And Jacob dwelt in the land where his father sojourned -- in the land of Canaan.
One short sentence closes one part of Genesis and opens another. Jacob settles in the land his father Isaac had only passed through as a stranger. It reads like a full stop on a long, wandering life. Yet commentators read very different things into that quiet word "lived."
This one verse holds everything left of Jacob's own story before Egypt. From this point the narrative belongs to his children.
He was told in chapter 35 to go and live at Bethel. Here it says he "lived in the land of his father's sojournings." But the history now is the history of his sons. His history until he went to Egypt is in this one verse.
The verse says he lived there. But he never owned the land. A sojourner stays in a country that is not his own, and that is all Jacob ever was.
Verse 1 states a truth of deep significance: "Jacob lived in the land of his father's sojournings, in the land of Canaan." It had taken him some years to settle there. Yet even while living there, he was still only a sojourner (Heb. 11:9). He did not remain indefinitely, but later went down to Egypt, where he died.
Trace the places named in his last journeys and you notice what he never acquires in any of them.
Then, in the freedom and strength of all this, our patriarch resumes his journey. He goes from Bethel to Bethlehem. From there he travels by the tower of Edar to Mamre in the south country, where his father Isaac was living. But in none of these places do we read of house or land again. It is the tent, the altar and the pillar, and the journey still going on. Then the burial of his aged father. And at last, one with his fathers, he lives in the land where they had lived before him.
Commentators differ here. One reads the settling as Jacob getting ahead of God's plan. God then corrected him through circumstances.
The first verse has told us that he lived in the land where his father had been a stranger. In this he was moving ahead of God's purpose. So God soon allowed circumstances to move him and his sons into Egypt. In that way everything happened that God had foretold to Abraham in Genesis 15:13-14.
Another weighs the Hebrew word itself and refuses to read blame into it. He still notes that God would not let the rest last.
Jacob's dwelling in the land where his father was a stranger is not, I think, a contrast in evil. Scripture uses the same word yashav (to dwell) of Abraham and Lot together in Canaan, and of Lot in Sodom. He was no longer a wanderer outside the land, but someone living in it. Still, he was more settled than Abraham was — only, when he did settle, God stirred him up out of his rest.
The verse also finishes a section. Genesis 36 has just spent a whole chapter on the line God did not choose, and this arrangement repeats a pattern.
The section called "The generations of Esau" begins at Genesis 36:1 and runs to Genesis 37:1. As with Ishmael and Isaac, Scripture mentions the rejected line first, but only briefly, and does not follow its dates. The chosen line comes second, and then enough dates are given to let us follow the passing of the years. This foreshadows a principle of God's ways, stated so clearly: "He takes away the first, that He may establish the second" (Heb. 10:9).
Put the two portions side by side. Their difference in length is the message.
The next chapter follows with a long list of Esau's generations, ripening early into dukes and kings. The world must have its day… In chapter 37 a single verse sets Jacob's portion against all this. Its very shortness speaks volumes to the ear that hears.
Being in the right place did not mean an easy life ahead. God's dealings with Jacob were not finished.
The next mention of Jacob is in Genesis 37. There we read that he "lived in the land of his father's sojournings." This was his proper position, the one faith had called him to. Still, after a pause, the discipline goes on. He had to be weaned from depending on anything at all. Though Rachel is gone, her two sons remain, and through them Jacob undergoes a continued crucifixion of his affections.
- Settled. After years of wandering, Jacob at last lives in Canaan — the land his father had only travelled through as a stranger.
- Sojourned. He owned nothing there — no house, no land, only tent, altar and pillar. In the end he went down to Egypt and died there.
- Stirred. Commentators differ on what the settling meant. Was it a step ahead of God's purpose, or the end of his wandering? They agree on one thing: when he settled, God moved him on.
- Silent. All of Jacob's remaining history before Egypt fits into this one verse; from here the story belongs to his sons.
- Second. Esau's line gets a whole chapter of dukes and kings. Jacob's gets one line. God takes away the first to establish the second.
These are the generations of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, fed the flock with his brethren; and he was doing service with the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of Zilpah, his father's wives. And Joseph brought to his father an evil report of them.
Genesis keeps family records, and this verse opens the record of Jacob's line. It turns at once to one son: a seventeen-year-old shepherd who brings home a bad report about his brothers.
One writer starts with what this record leaves out, and names Joseph a type of Christ — a living picture of Him:
His generations center simply in Joseph (v. 2): there is no list of names. The answer is simply that the true genealogy of the line of faith centers in the person of the Lord Jesus, of whom Joseph is a type.
Another writer traces the whole story from this one verse:
Genesis 37:2 gives "the generations of Jacob." Joseph is the special object of interest. He is a plain figure of Him whom His brothers rejected and who was separated from them. God exalted Him to hold the power of the throne over the Gentiles. In due time His brothers are brought to repentance and humbled before His glory, and He makes Himself known to them.
The first thing we are told about Joseph is his work, not his rank. That work carries weight across Scripture:
The first view that we have of Joseph is at seventeen years, feeding the flock along with his brothers. The ruler God appoints is always a shepherd! We see this with Moses and with David. In Matthew, the Gospel of the kingdom, we hear the scribes quoting Micah to the king: "Out of you shall come a Governor who shall rule My people Israel." The margin has "feed." The word literally means "be a shepherd to" My people Israel. Jacob's prophecy at the close of this book connects this character of Christ's rule with the type of Joseph (49:24).
(He quotes an older translation. The ESV of Matthew 2:6 reads "shepherd my people Israel.")
Joseph works with the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father's servant-wives. The same writer sees meaning in that detail:
But he is with the children of the servant-woman. That is a telling picture of Israel's condition when our Lord came in the flesh — perhaps in politics as well as in spirit. Joseph is separated from them too, far from them in his morals, just as the Lord was. That was the ground of the later separation, and it came from their side, not from his. "The world... hates me because I testify about it that its works are evil."
Commentators differ over the report, and one writer leaves the question open:
He worked with his half-brothers, feeding Jacob's flocks. He brought his father the report of their bad practices. If these things were serious, Joseph may have needed to do it. But Scripture does not say one way or the other. On the other hand, we know that the Lord Jesus was always right to talk with His Father about the evils of His natural brothers.
Another writer sees courage in the boy, and jealousy in his brothers:
He was a witness of their evil ways, and his father loved him. Both things made Joseph hateful to the sons of the servant-mothers. The special robe Jacob gave him did not soften their harshness, and neither did his two dreams. "Wrath is cruel, anger is overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy?"... Everything on record stamps Joseph as a devout youth. He had moral courage. He was faithful toward those who were going wrong. He had a lowly mind, and wondered at the dreams as much as anyone or more.
One writer points to what the record never says about Joseph:
The generations of Jacob are mainly about the doings of his sons, who came from him. They are about Joseph most of all. Verse 2 introduces him at the age of seventeen. It has been said that in him we have the most perfect and complete type of the Lord Jesus in all the Scriptures, and we believe that is true. In keeping with this, we shall see that Scripture records no sinful or unworthy action of his. This increases the value of his life as a type, though he was a sinful man like the rest of us.
- Generations. Jacob's record gives no list of names. It narrows to one son, because the line of faith runs toward one Person.
- Shepherd. Joseph first appears feeding the flock. The ruler God appoints is always a shepherd first: Moses, David, and the Governor in Micah's prophecy.
- Separated. He works among the sons of the servant-women, but stands far from them in his morals. That gap is the seed of the split, and the break comes from their side, not his.
- Report. Scripture does not say whether the boy was right to carry it home, and commentators differ. What he spoke against was real evil.
- Faultless. The record never puts one sinful act of Joseph on show. He was a sinful man like us, but the silence makes his life a fuller picture of Christ.
And Israel loved Joseph more than all his sons, because he was son of his old age; and he made him a vest of many colours.
One sentence sets up all that follows in Joseph's story. Jacob loves one son more than the rest, and he puts that love on public display in a garment. Commentators read this in two ways: as a real family failure with real damage, and as one of Scripture's clearest pictures of the Father's delight in His Son.
The favouritism is not excused. One writer names it, then turns from Jacob's household to a love no one could call unfair:
Verse 3 tells us that Jacob loved Joseph more than all his other sons. This was Jacob's failure. Love in a family should be completely impartial and concerned about the true welfare of every child. Above all this, though, this history reminds us that God's love for His Son must be unique.
Scripture guards that uniqueness. God brings many into His family, yet one place is never shared:
In His great grace God has brought His saints into relationship with Him as children and as His sons. He has given us "the Spirit of His Son…crying, Abba, Father" (Gal. 4:6). But we must never forget that the Son has His own special place at the Father's side, and it is His alone.
Love can stay hidden in a father's heart. This garment made it visible to everyone:
Israel bears witness to this place of distinction by clothing Joseph with a coat of many colours — a public testimony to the delight of the father in his son… The same chapter that tells us, "God so loved the world," also tells us that "the Father loves the Son." A measure is given of the love of God for the world, infinite though it is. But no measure is, or can be, given of the Father's love for the Son… Joseph's coat of many colours, the public testimony of his father's love, has its bright counterpart in the opened heavens of the New Testament. The heavens never open apart from Christ. When they open, they always bear some fresh witness to the Father's delight in the all-varied graces of the Son.
Other places in Scripture show how such garments were used. One writer follows the clue:
They were worn as marks of distinction — "for the neck as spoil," as Sisera's mother says. She thought he should wear this "spoil of dyed materials" as a special honour, fitting such a mighty conqueror as he was.
The word behind the garment names an ordinary piece of clothing:
The inner garment is the kethoneth, a long tunic worn by men and women, made of wool, cotton, or linen. This was the garment God made of skins for Adam and Eve, and what Jacob made of many colours for Joseph.
Why would Scripture record a father's gift of a coat? One writer answers by reading the colours as glories:
God calls the Lord Jesus His well-beloved Son, and has given Him many glories. A robe of many colours is His, but they are the colours of His glories. Not one greater, or more brilliant, than the glory of His humiliation. He laid aside His riches, and became poor, that we through His poverty might be made rich.
Later in the story the brothers tear that coat off him. The stripping carries its own meaning:
The many-coloured coat, as we saw earlier, was a mark of renown, or of superior dignity or excellence… The persecutors of the Son of God were not content until they had stripped Him of everything the many-coloured coat of Joseph stood for — His dignity, His moral excellence, His honour. They did this as far as it lay in their power.
His father's love changed the boy. It also cost him:
Loved and marked out by his father in this way, his heart grew large. He tasted the sweetness of his father's affection, and his own affection came out in return. Nothing produces affection in us so much as the assurance that it exists for us. As it is written, "We love because He first loved us."… But at the same time this exposed him to the envy of those who had proved themselves unworthy of it.
The brothers' problem was not Joseph himself. It was what they did not share:
He was the object of his father's love, and the subject of very high destinies. His brothers' hearts were not in communion with these things, so they hated him. They had no fellowship in the father's love… In all this they represent the Jews in Christ's day. "He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him."
- Loved — Jacob's favouritism was a real failure at home. Yet it points past itself to the Father's love for His Son, which is unique and needs no apology.
- Clothed — the coat made the father's love public. Its New Testament counterpart is the opened heaven, which never opens apart from Christ and always shows the Father's delight afresh.
- Marked — such garments were badges of honour, so the coat spoke of dignity, not decoration.
- Hated — the brothers had no share in the father's love, and that lack, not any wrong from Joseph, bred the hatred.
- Stripped — his brothers later tore that coat off him. He pictures the One robbed of every mark of honour before God exalted Him.
And his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, and they hated him, and could not greet him with friendliness.
The chapter opens on a household where affection has become evidence. The brothers do not react to anything Joseph does; they react to what they see in their father's face, and the sight breeds a hatred that even ordinary conversation cannot survive.
One writer traces the root of the trouble to what the brothers had no share in:
He was the object of his father's love, and he was marked out for very high destinies. His brothers' hearts had no share in these things, so they hated him. They had no fellowship in the father's love. They would not accept the thought of Joseph's exaltation.
Another writer puts the fault on the father, not on the son:
The love of Jacob for Joseph drew out the bitter animosity of his brothers. Jacob was to blame for this, of course, not Joseph, but the same thing has happened in many families. In the case of the Lord Jesus, Israel hated both Him and His Father (John 15:24). They did not have the slightest excuse for this, though Jacob's brothers might have had some excuse for hating Joseph.
Their hatred took away even a friendly greeting. One writer follows it from that first sign to where it ended:
The clearer it became that his father loved him in a special way, the more they hated him. Their hatred first showed in their speech — they "could not speak peacefully to him." Later it broke out in wicked action. But we see at once a type of the One of whom Psalm 69 speaks prophetically: "They ... hate Me without cause"; and again, "I have become a stranger to my brothers, an alien to my mother's sons."
Joseph had served his brothers and done them no injury. One writer answers the puzzle of why such a person should be hated at all:
Why was Joseph hated by his brothers? Was he not in their company as one who served? He was. But they were evil. However welcome his service might be, his presence exposed their evil and called out their hatred. For the same reason, and far more deeply, the world hated Christ. He could say, "It hates Me because I testify about it that its works are evil."
The verse says nothing about what this cost Joseph himself. One writer pictures it:
Joseph had done them no harm — no, he loved them, so very much: yet he lived among his brothers as one alone. He "was separate from his brothers." How it must have hurt poor Joseph — out "feeding the flock with his brothers," or at home with them, and never hearing a kind word from any of them.
The love that drew the hatred was also what had to carry Joseph through it:
On one side he learned the tenderness and the resources of his father's affection. On the other he suffered reproach and persecution for being so favoured. So early in life, and in his own family, Joseph learned — as all God's servants do — the basic truth that had to sustain him in the highest service later on: that the one loved by God is the one hated by man. His father's love, marked out by the coat of many colours, had to make up to him for the hatred of his brothers. It had to strengthen him and prepare him for all their opposition and envy.
One writer turns the verse on the reader:
In verse 4 of our chapter we read that Joseph's brothers "hated him and could not speak peacefully to him." It was the same with Jesus here on earth. People hated Him without a cause. And this is every sinner's attitude toward Christ until he comes to Him by faith and learns His love. You may not want to believe this of yourself, but it is true all the same. You may not know this enmity to Christ is in your heart, but it is there just the same.
- Loved — the whole trouble starts with a father's love his brothers had no share in. They wanted no part in what the father valued.
- Hated — the clearer the love, the deeper the hatred. It showed first in their speech, long before they raised a hand.
- Exposed — the deeper cause was moral. His service was welcome, but his presence showed up their evil, and that is why the world hated Christ too.
- Alone — the loved son lived among his own family as a stranger, never hearing a kind word from any of them.
- Sustained — every servant of God learns this early. The one loved by God is hated by man, and the Father's love must make up for it.
And Joseph dreamed a dream, and told [it] to his brethren, and they hated him yet the more.
Joseph's brothers already resent him. Then God gives him a dream, and he tells it to the very men who cannot speak a kind word to him.
Joseph did not invent this dream. One writer traces every dream in his story back to God's own hand.
Next comes the record of Joseph's two dreams. It is remarkable how large a part dreams played in his history. Scripture records no fewer than five of them before the climax, and every one contained a prophecy. Each was therefore produced by the finger of God touching the unconscious mind of the sleeper. Each marked a divine intervention, and indeed a revelation of secret things.
Should we expect dreams like that today? One writer points to what has changed since Joseph's day.
In the ages before Moses there was no written revelation of God's will. He often used dreams to communicate His mind, or to reveal coming events beforehand… Now we have His written revelation, the completed Bible. Only in very rare and exceptional cases can we recognise a dream as having come from God. "For a dream comes with much business," that is, from purely natural causes, Scripture says.
The words "he told it to his brothers" are the hinge of the verse. Joseph could have stayed quiet and stayed safe.
In Joseph's case, we see that his brothers refused his first dream, and yet he in no way softened his testimony… This was simple testimony founded on divine revelation; but it was testimony that brought Joseph down to the pit. He could have held back his testimony, or taken off some of its edge and power, and so spared himself. But no — he told them the truth, and so they hated him.
They already hated him before the dream. The dream added a second thing they refused to hear.
The dreams that speak of Joseph's future supremacy are a fresh motive for the envy and hatred of the brothers. He had been a witness against them of their evil; now he is a witness to them of his future glory. They will have neither one nor the other. The Lord did the same. He witnessed against the evil of the world and bore witness to His coming glories. Like Joseph, He drew hatred on Himself… Before the assembled leaders of Jerusalem He can say, "From now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power." A furious outburst of hatred followed that confession.
Was it wise to repeat a dream like this to men who envied him? One writer leaves the question open, and still refuses to blame the dream.
Whether it was wise or fitting to repeat his dreams to those who had no love for him may be a question. But the dreams were of God, as the effect on his brothers was of the enemy… The whole record marks Joseph out as a devout youth. He had moral courage. He was faithful toward those going wrong. He had a humble mind, and wondered at the dreams as much as anyone or more… A sign of coming exaltation always provokes adversaries to madness and revenge. Yet, strange as it may seem in their eyes, God turns even their spite and wicked ways to accomplish His purpose.
God gave this promise of honour to a boy who was soon thrown into a pit. It was not wasted. It became fuel for the years in between.
We may not doubt that God had a gracious purpose in this. He was exercising Joseph's spirit and strengthening his heart for the distress and the many troubles ahead of him, before those remarkable foreshadowings came true… The dreams were simple and striking, and they touched the whole family. If his brothers could not forget them, the sufferer could forget them still less. In the middle of grief and shame he remembered the visions of strange dignity that awaited him.
The dream looks like nothing more than a family quarrel. One writer sees it opening onto something far wider.
All this applies in a striking way to the One Joseph pictures, our Lord Jesus. The Jews, His brothers by natural descent, hated Him without a cause and rejected Him when He came among them. Yet the day is coming when they will bow down before Him. But not only this. He is to be the central Object of worship to the heavens as well as the earth. What had been secret is now revealed. We know that God's purpose, according to His good pleasure, is "to unite all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth."
- Given — the dream was not Joseph's ambition. It was God's finger touching a sleeping mind, a revelation of secret things.
- Told — he passed it on unchanged; softening it would have spared him, and telling it took him to the pit.
- Hated — first he testified against their evil, then to his coming glory. They would have neither, and God used their spite to serve His own purpose.
- Carried — God gave the promise early to steady Joseph through the long years of trouble before it came true.
- Fulfilled — the bowing widens from his brothers to earth and heaven alike, with Christ at the centre.
And he said to them, Hear, I pray you, this dream, which I have dreamt
Joseph is already the least loved member of his family when he asks his brothers to listen to his dream. That raises two questions: where did the dream come from, and was it wise to tell it?
Joseph is not repeating a random night's imagination. Dreams shape his whole story, and writers trace each one back to God.
Next comes the record of Joseph's two dreams. It is striking how large a part dreams played in his history. Before the story reaches its climax, Scripture records no fewer than five, and every one of them contained a prophecy. So the finger of God produced each dream, touching the sleeper's unconscious mind. Each one marked a Divine intervention — indeed, a revelation of secret things.
Was Joseph wise to tell such a dream to brothers who had no love for him? Writers leave that open. But they do not leave open where the dream came from.
Joseph spoke the truth about their evil ways, and his father loved him. That made him hateful to the sons of the servant mothers. The special robe Jacob gave him did not soften their harshness, and neither did his two dreams. "Wrath is cruel, anger is overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy?" Was it wise or fitting to tell his dreams to those who had no love for him? That may be a question. But the dreams were of God, just as their effect on his brothers was of the enemy.
Joseph did not soften his message after the first dream. He told the second one too.
Now, in Joseph's case, we see that he in no way relaxed his testimony because his brothers refused his first dream. "Now Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers they hated him even more" … "Then he dreamed another dream and told it to his brothers." This was simple testimony founded on divine revelation. But this testimony brought Joseph down to the pit. If he had held back his testimony, or blunted its edge and power, he might have spared himself. But no — he told them the truth, and so they hated him.
Joseph had already spoken against his brothers' evil. Now he tells them of his coming glory. Writers find the same pattern in the Lord's words before the leaders of Jerusalem.
The dreams speak of Joseph's future supremacy, and that gives the brothers a fresh motive for envy and hatred. He had been a witness against them of their evil; now he is a witness to them of his future glory. They will have neither one nor the other. The Lord did the same. He witnessed against the evil of the world and bore witness to His coming glories. Like Joseph, He drew the world's hatred upon Himself. Before the assembled leaders of Jerusalem the Lord speaks of His coming glories: "From now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power." A furious outburst of hatred follows that confession. Priests and elders unite to spit in the face of the Son of God.
The next verse gives the dream itself: sheaves of grain in a field. It pictures something still far off.
In Joseph's first dream he tells his brothers that he and they were binding sheaves of grain in the field: his sheaf arose and stood erect, and those of his brothers all bowed down to his sheaf (v. 7). Joseph probably did not understand that God meant the dream as a prophecy: his brothers would one day bow to his authority. Genesis 42:6 tells us they did. Of course, the most vital lesson here is that all Israel will yet bow to the Lord Jesus, whom they have despised and hated.
Years of trouble lie between the telling of the dream and its fulfilment. God had a purpose in that gap.
We may not doubt that God had a gracious purpose here. He was exercising Joseph's spirit and strengthening his heart for the distress and many troubles that would be his portion before those remarkable foreshadowings came true… The brothers could not easily forget dreams so simple and striking, dreams that touched nearly the whole family. Still less could the sufferer forget them. In the middle of much grief and shame, he remembered the visions of strange dignity that awaited him within his lifetime and theirs.
- Given — the dream was not Joseph's invention. Each of the five dreams in his story carried a prophecy and marked God stepping in.
- Spoken — Joseph told it as testimony resting on divine revelation. Blunting its edge would have spared him the pit.
- Hated — he spoke against their evil, then spoke of his coming glory. They would accept neither.
- Fulfilled — the sheaves came true when his brothers bowed to him, and point on to Israel bowing to the One they rejected.
- Carried — the dream that stirred their hatred also strengthened Joseph for the grief and shame before the glory.
Behold, we were binding sheaves in the fields, and lo, my sheaf rose up, and remained standing; and behold, your sheaves came round about and bowed down to my sheaf.
Joseph is a young man working the fields with brothers who already resent him. Then God gives him a dream of the harvest field, where his sheaf stands and the others bow. Two questions follow. Where did the dream come from, and how far does its meaning reach?
Joseph did not invent this picture, and he did not boast about it. One writer asks whether he was wise to repeat it to brothers who hated him. Then he looks at where the dream came from, where their hatred came from, and what God does with both.
Was it wise or fitting to repeat his dreams to those who had no love for him? That may be a question. But the dreams were from God, while the effect on his brothers came from the enemy... Everything recorded marks Joseph as a godly youth. He had moral courage. He was faithful toward those who went wrong. He had a humble mind that wondered at the dreams as much as anyone, or more... Such a sign always provokes opponents to madness and revenge. Yet God turns even their spite and wicked ways to accomplish His purpose.
Commentators differ here. Another writer defends the telling outright.
To tell what his dreams, or his visions in the Spirit, had shown him was from God.
God drew the picture from work these men did every day: binding grain in a field.
In Genesis 37, what could be simpler or better suited to these men? Joseph's sheaf rises up and keeps standing, while the other sheaves come round and bow down to his sheaf... The dream was so plain, vivid and startling that it needed no interpreter.
The dream reached further than Joseph's own life, and further than he understood.
Joseph likely did not understand that God meant the dream as a prophecy: his brothers would one day bow to his authority. Genesis 42:6 tells us they did. The most vital lesson here is bigger still. All Israel will yet bow to the Lord Jesus, whom they have despised and hated.
One writer looks past Joseph to what the harvest field pictures. Then he presses the point on the reader.
The scene of this dream is the harvest field. It is Christ's kingdom on earth... All the earth shall own His rule... He does not yet openly take up His great power and reign. But He will, when He reaps the harvest of this earth. Now is the day of His kingdom and patience.... He waits in patient grace to see if you will submit to His authority of your own choice. If you refuse Him now, while He is patient, sheer force will make you own His righteous rule in the day of His power.
His brothers threw the first dream back at him. Joseph could have gone quiet. He did not.
In Joseph's case, he did not soften his testimony when his brothers refused his first dream... This was simple testimony founded on God's revelation. But it was testimony that brought Joseph down to the pit. If he had held back his testimony, or blunted its edge and power, he might have spared himself. But no — he told them the truth, and so they hated him.
Slavery in Egypt looked like the death of everything the sheaves had promised. It was the opposite.
These dreams of their young brother enraged his jealous brothers, and they got rid of him. They sold him to passing merchants, who took the boy to Egypt and sold him as a slave. This did not look like the fulfilment of Joseph's dreams of future greatness. It was indeed a very sorrowful road to the answer of his dreams, but it was THE road.
- Source — The dream came from God; the hatred it stirred came from the enemy. Joseph wondered at it as much as anyone.
- Sheaf — God spoke in the language of their daily work, so plain and startling that no one needed an interpreter.
- Sequel — Those same brothers bowed to Joseph in Egypt. Commentators see beyond that a day when Israel bows to the Lord they despised.
- Silence refused — Joseph did not blunt his testimony when they rejected the first dream. That faithfulness put him in the pit.
- Sorrowful road — Slavery looked like the end of the dream; it was the way to it. Submit to Christ's rule now in the day of His patience, or own it later under His power.
And his brethren said to him, Wilt thou indeed be a king over us? wilt thou indeed rule over us? And they hated him yet the more for his dreams and for his words.
Joseph told his brothers his first dream, and they answered with two sharp questions and a deeper hatred. Where did that dream come from, why did telling the truth make the hatred worse, and what does the scene point forward to?
One writer separates two questions: where the dreams came from, and whether Joseph was wise to repeat them.
Joseph was a witness against their evil ways, and his father loved him. That made him hateful to the sons of the servant mothers. The special robe Jacob gave Joseph did not soften their harshness, and neither did his two dreams. Whether it was wise or fitting to repeat his dreams to those who had no love for him may be a question. But the dreams were of God, just as the effect on his brothers was of the enemy.
The brothers needed no help reading the dream. One writer thinks Joseph understood less of it than they did.
Joseph tells his brothers his first dream. He and they were binding sheaves of grain in the field: his sheaf rose and stood upright, and the sheaves of his brothers all bowed down to it (v. 7). Joseph probably did not understand that God meant the dream as a prophecy: his brothers would one day bow to his authority. Genesis 42:6 tells us they did. Of course, the most vital lesson here is that all Israel will yet bow to the Lord Jesus, whom they have despised and hated. At the time Joseph's brothers thought it ridiculous that he would ever have dominion over them (v. 8).
Their hatred had a history. It began with the father's preference and grew when God marked Joseph out.
And so his sufferings begin. The Lord marks him as the heir of glory. He speaks of the goodness he had found, and of God's high purpose for him. And his brothers hate him. They envy him; and who can stand before envy? They had already begrudged him his father's favour, and now they hate him for God's. They hate him for his words and for his dreams.
The verse gives two causes: his dreams and his words. One writer traces the words back to the lives behind them.
Finally, Joseph's brothers hated him for his words. … So too Christ is still the object of a hatred that men cannot hide, however hard they try. … But never forget what lies behind the "harsh things that ungodly sinners have spoken against him": the "ungodly deeds that they have committed in such an ungodly way." The evil lives of Joseph's brothers lay behind the hatred in their hearts and the evil words of their lips (Jude 15).
The brothers refused the first dream. Joseph then told them a second one.
Now, in Joseph's case, we see that he in no way relaxed his testimony because his brothers refused his first dream. … This was simple testimony founded on divine revelation; but it was testimony that brought Joseph down to the pit. Had he held back his testimony, or blunted its edge and power, he might have spared himself. But no — he told them the truth, and so they hated him.
One writer finds the same refusal repeated on a national scale.
He was the object of his father's love, and the subject of very high destinies. His brothers' hearts were not in fellowship with these things, so they hated him. They had no share in the father's love. They would not yield to the thought of Joseph's exaltation. In all this they represent the Jews in Christ's day. "He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him." … They would neither own Him as the Son of God nor as king of Israel.
Nothing they did to Joseph stopped the dreams.
Joseph was lord. His rule was absolute in that great land. His dreams came true. The other sheaves bowed to his sheaf; sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed to him. His brothers had said, "Let us … throw him into one of the pits … and we will see what will become of his dreams." Well, now they had seen!
- Given — The dreams came from God. Commentators differ on whether Joseph was wise to repeat them to brothers who had no love for him.
- Refused — The brothers caught the meaning at once. They would not accept the thought of Joseph raised above them.
- Envied — They already resented their father's favour. Now they resented God's, and their own evil lives lay behind the hatred.
- Unsoftened — Joseph blunted nothing. Had he held back the testimony he could have spared himself, but the truth he told took him to the pit.
- Fulfilled — They asked whether he would really reign. In Egypt they bowed, and Israel will yet bow to the One Joseph pictures.
And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it to his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamt another dream, and behold, the sun and the moon and eleven stars bowed down to me.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he told [it] to his father and to his brethren. And his father rebuked him, and said to him, What is this dream which thou hast dreamt? Shall we indeed come, I and thy mother and thy brethren, to bow down ourselves to thee to the earth?
Joseph tells his second dream to the whole family, and this time his father answers him. The rebuke raises three questions: was Joseph boasting, what did the sun and moon stand for, and did Jacob believe him?
Jacob did not need the dream explained. The heavenly bodies carried a plain meaning in a household like his.
Both his dreams foretold his coming greatness and glory. The meaning was so plain that his brothers, and his father too, saw it at once. The drift of the two was the same. But only the second suggested that his father and mother, as well as his brothers, would bow down to him in a day to come. There was a further difference. Sheaves belong to an earthly harvest, while sun, moon and stars are heavenly objects. The sun is a symbol of supreme authority, and the moon of authority derived from it and joined with it. Jacob saw at once how well this fitted the place of father and mother in his large family.
Commentators differ on what Jacob was reacting to. One reading is that he heard pride in it.
The second dream seems to have raised questions in his brothers' minds. He told them, and told his father too, that he had dreamed of the sun and moon and eleven stars bowing down to him. His father rebuked him. He evidently felt that pride in Joseph had produced the dream. The implication was plain to him: he himself, Rachel and his eleven children would all bow down to Joseph.
Another finds no fault in Joseph, and puts the trouble on the brothers.
The second dream implied a remarkable honour, and it moved Jacob. He could not help storing up its meaning, dim as it still was to him. Joseph was simple and open, with no presumption in him at all. That only made his brothers' spite burn hotter, and it soon found an occasion to break out in outrageous malice. How like the way of the Jews with Him who was long afterwards to be the blessed One that Joseph pictured!
Jacob's rebuke was not his last word. The next verse says he held on to what he had heard.
His father rebuked him. He assumed that what the dream pointed to could never happen. Yet Scripture records that he "kept the saying in mind." That shows he could not dismiss it, and that he saw more in it than he had thought at first. He had faith in God, even if it was weak; whereas the brothers had none.
Jacob questioned the dream; his brothers resented it. That reaction has a direct echo in the trial of Jesus.
And see what happens next. When Joseph tells his second dream, we read that his brothers envied him. It was the same with the great One whom he pictured. It is written of Pilate, "he knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered him up" (Matthew 27:18). And who can stand before envy, as the proverb asks? The rulers and the Pharisees were jealous of His standing. "Look, the world has gone after him," they said, in alarm.
The move from sheaves in a field to sun, moon and stars is not repetition. It widens the scope.
One dream might have been enough to foretell the glories of Joseph. It would be far too small to picture the glories of Christ. For His supremacy will have a twofold character… The dream of the sheaves bowing to Joseph's sheaf may well speak of that excellent supremacy over all the earth which Christ is destined to wield. Yet this first dream does not set out His supremacy in full. He is destined to be supreme not only on earth, but to hold universal sway over heaven and earth… And this second dream speaks of that heavenly supremacy. It presents heavenly bodies — the sun, the moon, and the stars — bowing down to Joseph.
Jacob measured the dream by the household he knew. The picture reaches further than that.
Jacob's view of the prophetic dream seems limited to his own family. He heard that the sun and moon and eleven stars paid homage to Joseph. He then asked whether he, Joseph's mother and Joseph's brothers would really bow to the ground before him. The sun and the moon were, to Jacob, father and mother. But this dream goes far beyond Jacob's family, or the nation of Israel.
- Read — Jacob needed no interpreter. Sun stands for supreme authority, moon for authority derived from it, and he applied both to himself and Rachel.
- Rebuked — He objected to the dream. Some read his reaction as a charge of pride; others find no presumption in Joseph at all.
- Retained — The rebuke was not the whole of Jacob. He kept the saying in mind, and that marks faith, weak but real, in a man whose sons had none.
- Resented — The brothers answered the second dream with envy, the same motive Pilate saw in those who handed Jesus over.
- Reach — Jacob measured the dream by his own household. The sheaves picture supremacy over the earth, and the stars supremacy over heaven too.
And his brethren envied him; but his father kept the saying.
Joseph has just told his second dream to the whole family, and the news splits the household in two. Ten brothers burn with envy at what it means, while their father keeps the saying and wonders.
Their envy had a target: the place of authority the dream gave Joseph.
Joseph told his brothers, and his father too, that he dreamed the sun and moon and eleven stars bowed down to him. His father rebuked him. He seemed to feel that pride on Joseph's part caused the dream, because the implication was plain to him: he, Rachel and his eleven children would bow down to Joseph. But his brothers envied him. Did this not show they were afraid Joseph would have such a place of authority? We know too that it was not only unbelief that moved the Jewish leaders to reject Christ. It was envy as well (Matt. 27:18).
The brothers refused two things from Joseph, not one. The same double refusal met Christ.
The dreams that speak of Joseph's future supremacy are a fresh motive for the envy and hatred of the brothers. He had been a witness against them of their evil, now he is a witness to them of his future glory. They will have neither one nor the other. The Lord did the same. He witnessed against the evil of the world, and He bore witness to His coming glories. Like Joseph, He drew the hatred of the world onto Himself. Before the assembled leaders of Jerusalem the Lord speaks of His coming glories. "From now on," He can say, "you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power." A furious outburst of hatred followed that confession. Priests and elders united to spit in the face of the Son of God.
Jacob corrects his son, then holds on to what his son said. The second response is the telling one.
The recounting of these dreams greatly fanned the flame of hatred, as we see in verses 5, 8 and 11. His father rebuked him, thinking that what the dream pointed to could never happen. Yet the record says that he "kept the saying in mind." He could not put it out of his thoughts. He recognised that there was more in it than he had first thought. He had faith in God, even if it was weak; whereas the brothers had none.
The same dream produced faith in one man and fury in ten. That difference does not lie in the dream.
Was it wise or fitting to tell his dreams to those who had no love for him? That may be a question. But the dreams were of God, and the effect on his brothers was of the enemy. Even to his father the second was distasteful, though he kept it in mind. Everything recorded here marks Joseph as a godly youth. He had moral courage. He was faithful toward those who were going wrong. He had a lowly mind, and wondered at the dreams as much as anyone, or more. And we cannot doubt that God had His gracious purpose in it: to exercise Joseph's spirit and strengthen his heart for the distress and many troubles that would be his before those remarkable foreshadowings came true.
Envy has a cure: taking the lower place so that Christ may have the higher one.
When Joseph tells his second dream, we read that his brothers envied him. It was the same with Christ, the One Joseph pictured. Of Pilate it is written that "he knew that it was out of envy that they had delivered Him up" (Matt. 27:18)… How different the spirit shown by John the Baptist, who said, "He must increase, but I must decrease." It was his joy to step into the background, so that Christ his Lord might, as God intends He shall, be preeminent in everything.
The brothers set out to make sure the dreams never came true. Their plan became the road to their fulfilment.
What a mercy it was for his half-brothers, who were not brothers in heart, that their cruel purpose took effect only in part. In divine goodness, wisdom and power God turned it to bring about the very exaltation which they hated as much as they envied. Like Cain, they meant to kill their brother. And why? Because, underneath it all, their works were evil and their brother's were righteous.
- Revelation. The dreams were God's, not Joseph's ambition; he wondered at them as much as anyone.
- Envy. The brothers saw what the dreams meant — Joseph over them — and hated it. Pilate saw that same envy behind the handing over of Christ.
- Rebuke. Jacob thought such a thing impossible and corrected his son.
- Kept. Yet he could not put the dream out of his mind. Weak faith held on where his sons had none at all.
- Fulfilled. The plot to bury the dreams became the very path to the exaltation the brothers envied.
And his brethren went to feed their father's flock at Shechem.
One line about pasture opens the darkest chapter in Joseph's life. The brothers take the family flocks to Shechem, and their father later sends Joseph after them. Why Shechem, of all places — a town the family had every reason to avoid?
Shechem was not neutral ground. It was the city where Jacob's sons had killed its people. One writer sets Hebron and Shechem side by side, then asks where our own feet have taken us.
Jacob had many sheep and cattle. His sons fed the sheep at Shechem — the city where they had killed its people. Hebron, high on a mountain, makes us think of heaven; but Shechem makes us think of sin, deception and murder. Jacob's sons left Hebron and their father to feed the sheep down at Shechem. Have we not all left our heavenly Father and chosen this bad world?
The text does not say why the brothers chose that pasture. One commentator presses the question, and finds a faint sign of life in Jacob's soul.
Why this return to Shechem? Was it because the purchased land, the family estate, was there? It was a dangerous place to be connected with. It had proved a snare to the whole family, and the Lord had called them away from it. Had Jacob been as watchful as he should have been, we might not now be hearing again of Shechem and of the flocks and the brothers there. Still, it is good to see signs of uneasiness in his mind about it. He sends Joseph to find out how the flocks and the brothers were doing there, as though he had some misgiving about them in such a suspect place. We may take this as the pulse of an awakened soul in Jacob, though that pulse is weak.
Both names carry meaning. Read as a picture of Christ, the journey traces the Son's path from the Father's side into the world.
Shechem means "shoulder." It speaks of taking up responsibility, which Israel did under law. So the Lord Jesus, sent by the Father, came to the place where Israel was responsible to be, under the law God had given them. Joseph was sent "from the valley of Hebron" (v. 14). Hebron means "communion." This reminds us that the Father sent His Son from the place of close communion. That communion had been the portion of the Father and the Son from all past eternity.
One word runs through this part of the story: sent. Commentators see here a first outline of what the New Testament later states plainly.
Joseph gives willing and hearty obedience. "Here am I," he answers to his father's command. "So," we read, "he sent him from the valley of Hebron, and he came to Shechem." Here we see a picture of the coming of the Son of God into the world. In type, it is the arrival of Israel's Messiah among them. He was "sent" by his father; and in the New Testament we read that "the Father has sent the Son."
Joseph goes knowing what his brothers think of him. He does not shrink back. He does not turn home when the errand proves harder than he expected.
Joseph then starts on his mission. He is sure of his father's love and aware of his brothers' hatred… He answered the will of the father, and did not shrink from the post of danger which the father did not fear for him… So Joseph followed this path of service, carrying his father's message and showing his father's concern. He came to Shechem. There his mission met a check: his brothers were not there. Such checks often happen to test how real we are — whether the Father's will is all we want. Joseph's heart was set on finishing the mission. Instead of going home when he could not find them, he waits at his post until he gets news of them.
The cruellest detail is that the errand itself gave the hatred its opening.
In his own measure Joseph was like the Lord. He was a vessel of divine wisdom in humiliation that deepened into the shadow of death. His brothers rejected and scorned him most of all, and he was sold to the Gentiles. The very errand of love on which his father sent him to them gave them the opportunity for taking out their hatred on his lowly and blameless head.
- Sent from. Joseph leaves the valley of Hebron — a name meaning communion — a picture of the Son sent out from the Father's side.
- Sent to. Shechem was the scene of the family's old violence and a proven snare. The sent one goes straight there.
- Sent by. Jacob sends Joseph out of uneasiness about the flocks in that dangerous place — a weak pulse of life in him, but a real one.
- Sent through. Missing his brothers at Shechem tested him. Was the father's will all he wanted? He waited instead of going home.
- Sent into. The errand of love handed his brothers their opportunity. They poured out hatred on a blameless head — as men later did to Christ.
And Israel said to Joseph, Do not thy brethren feed [the flock] at Shechem? Come, that I may send thee to them. And he said to him, Here am I.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he said to him, Go, I pray thee, see after the welfare of thy brethren, and after the welfare of the flock; and bring me word again. And he sent him out of the vale of Hebron; and he came towards Shechem.
Joseph's brothers are away with the flocks at Shechem, and his father sends him to check on them. But the place has a dark history, and his brothers already hate him. Commentators read this short journey as a picture of the Father sending His Son.
Shechem was not safe ground for this family. One writer asks why the flocks were back there at all, and sees a trace of worry in the errand Jacob gives:
Why this return to Shechem? Was it because the purchased land, the family estate, was there? It was a dangerous place to be connected with. It had proved a snare to the whole family, and the Lord had called them away from it. Jacob should have been more watchful. If he had been, we might not be hearing again of Shechem, or of the flocks and the brothers there. But still, it is good to see signs of uneasiness in his mind about it. He sends Joseph to find out how the flocks and the brothers were doing there, as though he had some misgiving about them in so suspicious a place.
The two place names mark the ends of the journey. One writer reads them as a map of what the Son left and where He came:
Shechem means "shoulder," and speaks of assuming responsibility, which Israel did under law. So the Father sent the Lord Jesus to the place where Israel was responsible to be, under the law God had given them. Joseph was sent "from the valley of Hebron" (v. 14). Hebron means "communion." This reminds us that the Father sent His Son from the place of close communion. That communion had been the portion of the Father and the Son from all past eternity.
Another sets the same two places side by side, then turns them on the reader:
Hebron, high on a mountain, makes us think of heaven; but Shechem, of sin, deception and murder. Jacob's sons left Hebron and their father to feed the sheep down at Shechem. Have we not all left our heavenly Father and chosen this bad world?
Joseph agrees to go, knowing what kind of welcome waits at the other end of the road:
Joseph would have had good reason to draw back from such an errand. He knew his brothers' wickedness and hatred. He knew the envy of their hearts against him. He could with reason have asked his father to excuse him from this undertaking. But no; "Here I am," he says, always ready to obey, and glad to seek his brothers' welfare.
The word "sent" draws the New Testament parallel. The errand pictures a mission that met the same welcome:
Joseph first comes before you as a young man of seventeen (Gen. 37:2), and we find that his father sends him on a journey, saying, "Go now, see if it is well with your brothers… and bring me word" (v. 14). In the same way, of the blessed Lord we read, "The Father has sent His Son to be the Savior of the world" (1 John 4:14). Did the world know Him? Ah, no! "He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, yet the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him" (John 1:10-11). So it was here. No sooner does Joseph appear among his brothers than they plot, as you know, for his death.
Joseph reaches Shechem and cannot find his brothers. One writer draws out what he does next, and what it teaches anyone sent on an errand for God:
Responding to the will of the father, he did not shrink from the post of danger which the father did not see for him. Suppose the One greater than we are, in love and in wisdom, appoints us a path of service that would be pleasing to Himself. He knows all, and He sees no danger for us. Then we may surely enter on it in simple confidence… Joseph's heart was set on finishing the errand. Instead of turning back when he could not find his brothers, he waits at his post until he gets news of them, and then follows them to Dothan.
Asking after the welfare of others is a service anyone can take up:
Joseph's service brought him reproach and misunderstanding. In the end he had the joy of fellowship with his brothers, and "Joseph provided… his brothers" with food (Genesis 47:12). Paul cared for all the churches. Timothy had genuine concern for the saints. Epaphras prayed fervently for them. These are a few of those who sought the welfare of their brothers — a happy service open to all.
- Sent — Joseph goes because his father sends him, and the New Testament uses that same word of the Father sending His Son into the world.
- From — he leaves Hebron, whose name means "communion" — a picture of the place the Son came from.
- To — he goes to Shechem, a place that speaks of sin and murder, and a snare the Lord had already called the family away from.
- Willing — knowing their hatred, he answers "Here I am." When he cannot find them at Shechem, he presses on to Dothan.
- For — the whole journey aims at the welfare of his brothers, and that service is still open to anyone.
And a man found him, and behold, he was wandering in the country; and the man asked him, saying, What seekest thou?
Joseph reaches Shechem on his father's errand, but his brothers are not there. Instead a stranger finds him wandering in the open country and asks what he is looking for.
Joseph arrives where his father sent him and finds no one. One writer treats the setback as a test of the servant's heart.
Joseph followed this path of service. He carried his father's message and expressed his father's interest. He came to Shechem, but his mission stalled when he found that his brothers were not there. Such checks often happen to test how real we are about whether the Father's will is entirely our desire. Joseph's heart was clearly set on completing it. Instead of turning back when he could not find them, he stayed at his post until he got news of them. Then he followed them to Dothan, unprepared for the murderous and spiteful welcome waiting for him.
The word "wandering" pictures a young man with no home and no direction of his own. Commentators see in it a likeness to the Son of God.
How like the blessed Son of God! He, too, "found in human form," was here, "Wandering as a homeless stranger."
The stranger asks, Joseph answers, and the answer is not about sheep but about people. His whole purpose was his brothers.
Then the father sent out his beloved Joseph to seek his brothers who were lost. Israel put Joseph into their hands. All this foreshadows God's unspeakable gift in sending His only Son into this world to seek what is lost.
Joseph learns nothing from his brothers themselves; the news comes from a passer-by who happened to overhear them. The same writer sees the pattern of a lonely life in which only a few ever hear what the mission was.
Joseph wandering in the field, in complete loneliness, is only a shadow of Him who here on earth had "nowhere to lay His head." Though often in the middle of crowds, His life was one of loneliness and sorrow. He was like "a lonely sparrow on the housetop." Few could, or even cared to, share His thoughts. Sometimes, as with Joseph, "a man found" Him, and to such people He told His errand. To these, His disciples, He could pour out the intentions of His burdened heart; but the world did not know Him! But how He kept up His search for those "lost sheep of the house of Israel" to whom He was "sent." Nothing could turn Him back.
The stranger's information sends Joseph to a named place, and commentators differ on what the name means. One reads it as "their decree," and hears in it a people living by rules of their own making.
Joseph did not find his brothers at Shechem, just as the Lord Jesus did not find Israel in the place of obedience to the law of God. Dothan means "their decree." Just as Joseph found his brothers at Dothan, so the Lord Jesus found Israel in a place of their own decrees and traditions, rather than in the place of submission to the law of God. He told the Pharisees and scribes, "So for the sake of your tradition you have made void the word of God" (Matt. 15:6).
Another reads it as "cisterns," and hears an echo of a nation that dug its own wells and got no water.
"Dothan" means "two wells," or, perhaps better, "cisterns." This at once recalls what God says of Israel in Jeremiah 2:13: "they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water." This was Israel's exact condition when the One who had "the fountain of life" was among them.
The wandering ends in a meeting, and the meeting ends in a pit. The search itself handed his brothers their chance.
Joseph was like the Lord in his measure. He was a vessel of divine wisdom in humiliation that deepened into the shadow of death. His brothers rejected and scorned him more than anyone else, and sold him to the Gentiles. The very errand of love on which his father sent him to them gave them the opportunity to pour out their hatred on his lowly and blameless head.
- Sent. Joseph is in the field only because his father sent him. Writers see in that sending a picture of God sending His Son to seek the lost.
- Checked. The brothers are gone from Shechem. A setback like this tests whether the servant wants what the sender wants.
- Seeking. His father sent him to look for his lost brothers, so the search was for people, not property.
- Persisting. He could have gone home with a good excuse. Instead he waited for news and followed on, like the One whom nothing could turn back.
- Costing. The errand of love gave his brothers their opening, and they poured out their hatred on a blameless head.
And he said, I am seeking my brethren tell me, I pray thee, where they feed [their flocks].
A stranger finds Joseph wandering in a field, and Joseph's answer holds his whole errand: his father sent him to look for his brothers, and he will not go home until he finds them. Why record this small roadside exchange at all, and what does it show about the one who spoke it?
Joseph had reached Shechem and found nobody there. That empty field handed him a reason to give up and go home.
Joseph does not find his brothers when he comes to Shechem. They have departed. Now is his chance to return to Hebron if his heart is not wholly in his mission. Here is a good excuse for turning back and giving up the task. But no; he has no thought of turning back, or of giving up the work his father gave him to do.
Everyone who serves meets a stalled errand. Another writer sees a test in this delay.
Joseph followed this path of service. He carried his father's message and expressed his father's interest. He came to Shechem, but there his mission stalled, because his brothers were not there. Such checks often come to test how real we are — is the Father's will wholly our desire? Joseph's heart was set on finishing it. Instead of returning when he could not find them, he waits at his post until he gets news of them. Then he follows them to Dothan.
Commentators see in Joseph's journey a shadow of a far greater one.
In this journey there is a foreshadowing of a far greater journey taken by the Son of God. He left the Father's home of light and love. He came into this world of death and darkness, and He knew well the evil into which He came. And yet He did not turn back. Even at the cross we read, "Jesus, knowing all that would happen to Him, came forward" (John 18:4). If the love of the Father would send Him, then the love of the Son is ready to do the Father's bidding. "Behold, I have come to do Your will, O God." He comes as the sent One of the Father to declare the Father's love.
In the verse Joseph is alone in a field, telling a passing stranger what he is after.
Joseph wandering in the field, in complete loneliness, is only a shadow of Him who had "nowhere to lay His head." He was often surrounded by crowds, yet His life was one of loneliness and sorrow… Sometimes, as with Joseph, "a man found" Him, and to such people He told His errand. To these, His disciples, He could unburden the thoughts of His heavy heart; but the world did not know Him! But oh, how He kept up His search for those "lost sheep of the house of Israel" to whom He was "sent." Nothing could turn Him back.
Joseph asks where his brothers are pasturing the flock. The answer sends him on to Dothan, and commentators differ on what that name means. One reads the name as a picture of Israel's thirst.
"Dothan" means "two wells," or perhaps better, "cisterns." This at once recalls what God says of Israel in Jeremiah 2:13. They have forsaken Him, "the fountain of living waters," and dug out for themselves "broken cisterns that can hold no water." That was Israel's condition exactly when the One with whom is "the fountain of life" was among them.
Another writer takes the name to mean something else.
Joseph did not find his brothers at Shechem, just as the Lord Jesus did not find Israel in the place of obedience to the law of God… Dothan means "their decree." Joseph found his brothers at Dothan. In the same way, the Lord Jesus found Israel in a place of their own decrees and traditions, and not in the place of subjection to the law of God.
Joseph's errand is a service still open to anyone.
Joseph's service brought him reproach and misunderstanding. In the end he had the joy of fellowship with his brothers, and he provided for them (Genesis 47:12). Paul cared for all the churches. Timothy had genuine desires for the saints. Epaphras prayed for them with all his heart. These are a few of those who sought the welfare of the brothers — a happy service open to all.
- Sent. Joseph speaks as a man under orders. He is the son carrying his father's message — a shadow of the Son sent from the Father's home into a world He already knew was evil.
- Sought. His answer names his whole purpose: he is after his brothers and their welfare.
- Stopped. The empty field at Shechem tested whether the Father's will was wholly his own desire. Such checks come to every servant.
- Sustained. He did not go home. He waited, asked, and followed on to Dothan — his persistence showed the errand was his own.
- Shared. The same errand comes to us. Seeking the welfare of brothers is a happy service open to all.
And the man said, They have removed from this; for I heard them say, Let us go to Dothan. And Joseph went after his brethren, and found them at Dothan.
Joseph reaches Shechem, but his brothers have moved on. Rather than turn back, he follows them to Dothan — a place whose name, commentators say, exposes what Israel had become.
Not finding his brothers at Shechem gave Joseph a reason to go home with a clear conscience. One writer draws attention to what he did instead.
Joseph does not find his brothers when he comes to Shechem. They have left. Now is his chance to return to Hebron if his heart is not wholly in his mission. Here was a good excuse for turning back and giving up the task. But no; he has no thought of turning back, or of giving up the work his father gave him to do.
Another writer sees such hold-ups as a common test of the servant's heart.
Joseph took this path of service. He carried his father's message and stood for his father's interest. He came to Shechem, but found his brothers gone, and his mission stalled. Such checks often come to test how real we are — whether the Father's will is all we want. Joseph's heart was set on finishing the errand. Instead of going home when he could not find them, he waited at his post until he got news of them. Then he followed them to Dothan, unprepared for the murderous and spiteful welcome that awaited him.
The journey was long, and the men at the end of it hated him.
Joseph was certainly not one to break from his brothers without cause. He followed them forty miles to be with them and serve them, but "they hated him without a cause." He was a picture, given in advance, of One whose deepest human sorrow was that "His own people did not receive Him." He was wounded in the house of His friends, and He said to those He had held close, "One of you will betray me."
Commentators differ on the meaning of the name. Some take it from a root meaning decrees or rulings, and see in it the place Israel had made for itself.
Dothan means "their decree." Just as Joseph found his brothers at Dothan, so the Lord Jesus found Israel in a place of their own decrees and traditions, rather than in the place of subjection to the law of God.
Another writer draws a line between two kinds of law.
They were zealous law-keepers, and Dothan points to this exactly, if I am not mistaken. The name means "laws" — not "precepts," the moral and spiritual guidance that God's law was, but imperial "decrees." Israel had gone away from God and from the path of their forefather. That is what God's word had become to them.
A different reading takes the name from wells, and hears in it the complaint of Jeremiah.
"Dothan" means "two wells," or perhaps better, "cisterns." That at once recalls what God says of Israel in Jeremiah 2:13: "they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water." This was Israel's condition exactly when the One who held the fountain of life was among them.
The same writer follows the picture from Dothan to Christ's invitation.
Because of their self-righteousness and pride they would not be convinced by Him of their wickedness. So He appealed to their unsatisfied hearts and cried out, on the last day of the feast, the great day: "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink." Joseph goes from Shechem, the scene of their wickedness, to Dothan — heart thirst. This is still Christ's way with souls. Some find it impossible to think of themselves as great and grievous sinners. But they do have empty hearts. When they see how broken earth's cisterns are, they will come to Him who is Himself the satisfying fountain of true joy.
One writer looks past the brothers' cruelty to the One Joseph pictures.
They were heartless toward the innocent sufferer and toward the father who had sent him in love. Yet in the middle of it rises the foreshadowing of Him who was to come, one infinitely greater than Joseph. He too was the Beloved of His Father, and His Father sent Him as Son of Man to seek the lost.
- Sent. Joseph does not go on his own. He carries his father's message to the very brothers who hate him.
- Checked. Shechem is empty. The delay tests him: is the father's will his own desire, or a job he can drop?
- Followed. He refuses the excuse to go home. He waits for news, then walks the forty miles to reach them.
- Found. Commentators differ on the name: their own decrees, or broken cisterns. Either way Dothan marks a people far from God — and thirsty hearts still find Christ the true fountain.
- Foreshadowed. The one loved by his father, sent in search of those who resent him, sketches the Son of Man sent in search of the lost.
And when they saw him from afar, and before he came near to them, they conspired against him to put him to death.
His father sent Joseph to check on his brothers. The plot against him is formed before he is close enough to speak. Commentators see here the pattern of a much larger story: love sent, love seen far off, love condemned before it can speak.
They decide the moment they see him, before Joseph can speak a word. One writer sets this distance beside another distance in the Bible: a father who ran to meet his returning son.
Joseph's touching story also points ahead to the reception the world has given to the One sent by the Father. Having no heart for their father, these men of evil ways have no eyes to recognise the one his love had sent. To them Joseph is only a dreamer whose dreams they would gladly stop by conspiring to kill him... And how eager man is to express his hatred: "They saw him from afar... they conspired against him to kill him." But God's thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways. If it is a question of the Son of the Father's love coming near to men, then He will be rejected while still far off. But it is different when a sinner is drawn to the Father. Then we read that "while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him."
One writer hears the brothers' words echoed in a parable Jesus told about a landowner's son. He then points to the answer God gave to that murder.
These words are a powerful reminder of the parable in Matthew 21: "Finally he sent his son to them, saying, 'They will respect my son.' But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, 'This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and have his inheritance.' And they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him." God sent His Son into the world with this thought: "They will respect my son." But man's heart had no respect for the "well beloved" of the Father. They cast Him out... Man crucified Him; but God raised Him from the dead. Man placed Him on a cross between two thieves; God set Him at His own right hand in the heavens.
To conspire is to plan in advance. That word separates this crime from a flash of temper. It shows what the human heart can do when it has time to think.
The evil heart of man is marked by corruption and violence. The brothers are ready to rid themselves of Joseph by violent acts. They were also prepared to cover their violence with corrupt and lying words. "Let us kill him," they say, "and we will say, Some fierce animal has devoured him." Violence and corruption are the outstanding marks of fallen man. He is shameless in both. He is not merely overcome by a sudden temptation. Like Joseph's brothers, he can plan his violent act and his corrupt lies in advance.
The conspiracy aimed to cancel Joseph's future. It became the road to it. One writer traces the hatred back to Cain, and finds mercy for the brothers in their own failure.
God sent Joseph's dreams, and the outcome proved them real, while what other people call reality is only a daydream. And what a mercy it was for his half-brothers, who were not brothers in heart! Their cruel purpose succeeded only in part. God turned it, in His goodness, wisdom, and power, into the very means of bringing about the exaltation they hated as much as they envied. Like Cain, their intent was to kill their brother. And why? Because, at bottom, their works were evil and their brother's righteous.
The verse reads like a charge against ten men long dead. One writer turns it on the reader instead.
The Jew did this nineteen hundred years ago. You and I, and every man, would do the same today, if grace had not renewed us and we stood in the same place.
- Sent — Joseph comes as the one his father's love sent. Men with no heart for the father had no eyes for his son.
- Seen — They condemn him while he is still far off. In Jesus' story, the father runs to his returning son at that same distance.
- Planned — This was not sudden temptation. They arranged the violence in advance and had a lie ready to cover it.
- Foreshadowed — The scene matches the parable of the son sent to the vineyard. Man cast the Son out; God set Him at His own right hand.
- Overruled — The plot to cancel the dreams became the means of fulfilling them. Its failure was a mercy to the brothers who planned it.
And they said one to another, Behold, there comes that dreamer!
Joseph's brothers see him coming across the fields of Dothan, and they decide his fate before he is close enough to hear them. The way they name him shows what they could not forgive.
The errand was his father's. Neither father nor son measured the danger waiting at the end of it.
Joseph then starts on his mission. He is sure of his father's love. He knows his brothers hate him. And deep inside he carries an idea of future greatness that he does not yet understand. Responding to the will of the father, he did not shrink from the post of danger which the father did not foresee for him... instead of returning when he could not find them, he stays at his post until he gets news of them. He then follows them to Dothan. He was not ready for the murderous, spiteful welcome waiting for him.
What they could not stand was not the dreaming itself.
They could not bear the idea of his exaltation. They hated him, and called him "this master of dreams" (v. 19), so they plotted his death. But Reuben rescued him, and says, "Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit."
Distance was no protection for Joseph. The same distance means something very different when a sinner turns back to God.
For them Joseph is only a dreamer whose dreams they would gladly frustrate by conspiring to kill him... And how eager man is to express his hatred. "When they saw him afar off … they conspired against him to slay him." But God's thoughts are not our thoughts, nor His ways our ways. If it is a question of the Son of the Father's love drawing near to men, then indeed He will be rejected while still far off. But what if it is a question of a sinner drawn to the Father? Then we read that while he was "still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him."
The same reasoning turns up in a parable Jesus told.
These words strongly remind us of the parable in Matthew 21. "But last of all he sent to them his son, saying, They will respect my son. But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, This is the heir; come, let us kill him and have his inheritance. And they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him." God sent His Son into the world with this thought: "They will respect my son." But sadly, man's heart had no reverence for the "well beloved" of the Father. They cast Him out. Earth and heaven were at issue about Christ, and they are at issue still. Man crucified Him; but God raised Him from the dead.
They meant to bury the dreams along with the dreamer.
They thought his dreams were only an idle fancy, which they could easily get rid of. They had to learn that the dreams were a revelation of the purpose of God, and they could not overthrow it.
That failure turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to them.
The dreams of Joseph were God-sent, and as real in the outcome as the realities of others are only daydreams. And what a mercy it was for his half-brothers, who were not brothers in heart! Their cruel purpose took effect only in part. God, in His goodness, wisdom, and power, turned it to bring about the very rise they hated as much as they envied.
Their taunt challenged God's word. Events answered it then, and a larger answer is still coming.
Man imagines in vain that corruption and violence will prosper. The brothers of Joseph did the same. They had planned to kill their brother and meant to cover their act with lies, yet they could say with complete confidence, "We shall see what will become of his dreams." They will indeed see. And it is a terrible thing for those who reject Christ. They too will see, for it is written: "Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of Him."
- Sent. Joseph came on his father's errand. He knew his brothers hated him, and he did not turn back when the first search failed.
- Scorned. They refused his name and called him "master of dreams". They could not bear the rise his dreams promised.
- Settled. They formed the plot while he was still far off. The same reasoning appears in the parable of the vineyard: "This is the heir; come, let us kill him."
- Stopped. The dreams they called fantasy were God's declared purpose. Their plan half failed, and it produced the very rise they wanted to stop.
- Seen. Their taunt, "We shall see what will become of his dreams," came true against them. It points to a day when every eye will see the One they rejected.
And now come and let us kill him, and cast him into one of the pits, and we will say, An evil beast has devoured him; and we will see what becomes of his dreams.
Joseph's brothers see him coming across the fields and settle the whole plan in a few sentences: a murder, a pit, and a lie for their father. Their taunt about the dreams turns out to be the one part of the plan God takes them up on.
The plan is not a sudden loss of temper. It has a murder in it and a cover story ready before the murder happens.
The evil heart of man is marked by corruption and violence. The brothers are ready to rid themselves of Joseph by violent acts. They are also ready to cover their violence with corrupt and lying words. "Let us kill him," they say, "and we will say that a fierce animal has devoured him." Violence and corruption are the outstanding marks of fallen man, and he is shameless in both. He is not simply overcome by some sudden temptation. Like Joseph's brothers, he can deliberately plan his violent act and his corrupt lies.
The dreams are named in their taunt because the dreams are the offence. Joseph had been given his father's love, and then something more.
And so his sufferings begin. The Lord marks him out as the heir of glory. Joseph speaks of the goodness he had found, and of God's high purpose for him, and his brothers hate him. They envy him; and who can stand before envy? They had already begrudged him his father's favour, and now they hate him for God's. They hate him for his words and for his dreams. They are in the field together, as Cain and Abel had been long before. There they discuss whether to kill him, to throw him into a pit, or to sell him to strangers. And all this happened while he was serving them. He had come a long way to ask after their welfare ... and to carry them blessings from their father's house with their father's love. Such a moment was their opportunity.
One writer reads the scene as a picture of Christ. He sets the brothers' words beside words spoken in the Gospels.
He came into this world, which He had made along with everything in it, but what happened? He was hated. He was not wanted. So Joseph's brothers hated him... In the same way, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ sent His Son to be the Saviour of the world. When He came into the world men said, "This is the heir. Come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours" (Mark 12:7). Joseph's brothers say, "Come now, let us kill him... and we will see what will become of his dreams." In other words, they plan to murder him, and then to back up their murder with deceit and lies. That was the proposal, but it was not carried out, because Reuben stepped in and Joseph was thrown into the pit. But with the Lord Jesus Christ the murder did take place. Men did kill Him.
They meant "we will see" as mockery. The answer comes, and it reaches far past Joseph.
Man imagines in vain that corruption and violence will prosper. Joseph's brothers had planned to kill their brother, and they meant to cover the act with lying. Yet they can say with complete confidence, "We will see what will become of his dreams." They will indeed see. And it will go badly for those who reject Christ. They too will see. Is it not written, "Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him"?
Part of the plot succeeded: Joseph did go into the pit. That partial success is how the dreams came true.
God sent Joseph's dreams, and they proved as real in the event as other people's realities are mere daydreams. His half-brothers were not brothers at heart. What a mercy it was for them that their cruel purpose only took effect in part! God's goodness, wisdom and power turned it into the very elevation they hated as much as they envied. Like Cain, they intended to kill their brother. And why? Because, underneath it all, their works were evil and their brother's were righteous.
One writer will not leave this story in the past, or with one nation.
The Jews did this nineteen hundred years ago. You and I, and every man, would do the same today if grace had not renewed us and we stood in similar circumstances.
- Seeing, hated. The plot starts before Joseph arrives — envy of his father's favour and of God's purpose for him is enough.
- Seeing, planned. They plan the violence and the lie together, with the "wild animal" story ready before the killing.
- Seeing, repeated. The same reasoning returns in the Gospels: this is the heir, so kill him and take the inheritance. There the murder went through.
- Seeing, granted. Their "we will see" was a sneer; every eye will see the One they pierced.
- Seeing, ourselves. The heart that plotted at Dothan is not a foreign heart, and only grace makes the difference.
And Reuben heard [it], and delivered him out of their hand, and said, Let us not take his life.
Joseph's brothers have already agreed to kill him. Only the voice of the oldest brother stands in the way. His words stop the killing, but they do not stop the crime — and commentators read this half-rescue as both a mercy from God and a warning about good intentions that never turn into action.
The plot to kill Joseph was real. One writer explains why it failed.
Joseph was still some distance away when his brothers saw him coming. They plotted to put him to death (vv. 19-20). From the time the Lord Jesus was born, Herod was determined to kill Him (Matt. 2:13-16). But at this time God's sovereign protection was clear. Reuben, the oldest of the brothers, had some sense of responsibility for a younger brother, and he was able to persuade them not to kill him. In the same way, the Jews often tried to kill the Lord Jesus. But they could not do it until the time God Himself had set. In the meantime their fear of consequences restrained them (Matt. 21:45-46).
Reuben's proposal of the pit was not the whole of what he meant to do. He had a second step in mind that he kept to himself.
Reuben suggested simply putting Joseph into a pit from which he could not escape, intending himself to afterward liberate Joseph so that he could return to his father (v. 22). He evidently felt that, being the oldest, he would be answerable to his father for what the brothers did, for evil does not generally continue long without being discovered.
The brothers did not all act with the same cruelty. Yet one writer refuses to split them into the guilty and the innocent.
There may be different measures in the common enmity; but in a great moral sense they are all one generation. Reuben was Jacob's firstborn. We may suppose that he felt more answerable to their aged father for the boy than any of them did. He saves Joseph from the sword, and Judah proposes a sale of him to the merchants, instead of the pit. In ways like these there are measures in the common enmity… here, all are the guilty brothers of Joseph.
Reuben says the right thing, but he risks nothing by saying it. One writer asks why he did not speak out plainly instead.
Many are like Reuben — they try to occupy a neutral place. He seeks, in a timid, half-hearted way to save the life of Joseph. If he knew Joseph did not deserve such treatment, why did he not step out and say plainly, "No; lay no hand on this defenceless boy. Why do you want to kill the child? I shall stand by him; and if you kill him, you must do it over my dead body." "Well said, Reuben!" we would all exclaim. But no; he is too cowardly. He tries in a weak way to save Joseph's life, but he makes sure it costs him no risk. And he suffers along with his wicked brothers, just as if he had taken the leading part, like Judah.
Reuben's good intentions had a habit of collapsing. One writer sees the same pattern through his whole life.
Joseph was in danger from his brothers, and Reuben, as the eldest, should have protected him. He does go so far as to say, "Shed no blood" — people like him hate the thought of blood, especially in theology — "throw him into this pit." He meant to rescue him; but something always happens to upset a Reuben's good intentions. He means to be an upright man, no doubt, but falls into the terrible sin of which his father accuses him.
So why did Reuben's plan never work? One writer points to Joseph's dreams.
His older brother Reuben comes to the rescue. He plans to get Joseph out of the pit they threw him into, and to send him back to his father. Joseph would have been glad to hear of Reuben's plan. But that kindness would have stopped Joseph's dreams from coming true, and so it failed.
One writer reads the whole scene — the failed defence, the pit, the sale — as a picture of Christ.
Joseph is sent to see the welfare of his brothers, follows them to Dothan, and there the last errand of love brings out their deepest hatred. They determine to get rid of him. They will have this dreamer no more. Reuben sets himself against their plan to murder him. But the result is that, at Judah's proposal, he is thrown into the pit and given up for death. Yet he is taken out of it and sold to the Midianites — a wonderful picture of One greater than Joseph.
- Restraint. The brothers agreed on murder, but it never happened. Writers see God's hand protecting Joseph through an older brother's sense of duty.
- Half-measure. Reuben's mercy was real but timid; he tried to save Joseph at no cost to himself.
- Neutrality fails. He never stood openly with Joseph, so he shared the guilt as fully as the brother who sold him.
- Overruled. Even his secret plan to restore Joseph to their father collapsed, because it would have stopped Joseph's dreams from coming true.
- Shadow. The errand of love met the deepest hatred. The brother thrown into the pit and sold points to One greater than Joseph.
And Reuben said to them, Shed no blood cast him into this pit which is in the wilderness; but lay no hand upon him -- in order that he might deliver him out of their hand, to bring him to his father again.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass when Joseph came to his brethren, that they stripped Joseph of his vest, the vest of many colours, which he had on;
Joseph reaches his brothers, and their first act is to tear off his robe — the gift his father made for him. Commentators read that act as raw family hatred, and also as a picture of what men would later do to Christ.
The verse names the robe twice. The word behind it covers an ordinary piece of clothing, and a dictionary of Bible words shows where else it appears:
The inner garment is the kethoneth, a long tunic worn by men and women. It was made of wool, cotton, or linen. This was the garment God made of skins for Adam and Eve, and what Jacob made of many colours for Joseph. Gen. 3:21; Gen. 37:3, 23-33. It formed part of the priest's dress... It was this garment of the Lord's that was woven in one piece, John 19:23.
Not every writer reads the robe as brightly coloured:
The name does not mean exactly "of many colors." Nor was it a seamless robe of one piece, the kind the Lord Himself usually wore. It is a "tunic of pieces," which suggests variety. I think it points to the many powers seen in the Lord in those mighty works which He called works "from the Father."
The father gave the robe. The stripping answers the father as much as the son:
His brothers stripped him of his coat of many colours and threw him into the pit. The father had marked him out with that coat; the brothers degrade him by tearing it off. It happens again and again with Christ. Some special display of divine power, wisdom and grace sets Him above all others, and at once man strips Him of His coat of many colours. Man tries to drag Him down to the level of an ordinary man by asking, "Is not this the carpenter's son?"... With Joseph the stripping was only the first step toward the pit. So with Christ: man rejected every witness to His glory, and at last, with wicked hands, delivered Him to death.
The hatred was not about cloth. It was about the favour the robe marked out:
Joseph here shows himself as the righteous or separated one, and so he stirs up the hatred of his wicked brothers. The light makes the deeds of darkness visible, and the darkness hates the light. In the same way the world later hated Joseph's Lord, because He testified that its deeds were evil. And the marks of divine favour placed on the righteous one only stir that hatred further... His brothers envy him. Later, out in the field together, they take counsel like another Cain, who killed his brother: shall they kill Joseph, throw him into the pit, or sell him to strangers?
One writer sees the same scene at the cross, down to the mood of the men who carried it out:
They likely took pleasure in stripping Joseph of his coat of many colors, because of their jealousy toward him over his father's favouritism. All of this reminds us of men taking the garments of the Lord Jesus and casting lots for them at the time of His crucifixion (Matt. 27:35). Joseph's brothers calmly sat down to eat. In the same way, Matthew says of those who crucified the Lord, "they sat down and kept watch over Him there" (Matt. 27:36).
What the robe stood for is what His enemies set out to remove, and the story did not end there:
The many-coloured coat... was a mark of renown, of superior dignity or excellence... The persecutors of the Son of God were not satisfied until they had stripped Him, as far as they were able, of everything the many-coloured coat of Joseph stood for — His dignity, His moral excellence, His honour. They took everything they could lay their guilty hands on... Yes, they stripped Him. But like a sheep silent before her shearers, He did not open His mouth. He submitted without complaint to the mockery and humiliation, and because of this God has "highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name."
The crime is real, but it is not the last word:
Enough was done, and enough is written, to show that the Holy One of God stood before the eyes of the One who knows how to carry out His deliberate counsel and foreknowledge. God did this not only despite the unbelief of the Jews who had turned away from Him, and despite the hands of lawless Gentiles, but through them. In their blind pride they did not know what they were doing. Yet they knew more than enough to leave both without excuse.
- Given. The father marked out his son with the robe, a sign of renown and dignity. Hatred aims first at what love gave.
- Stripped. What the father put on, the brothers tore off, trying to reduce the favoured one to nothing special.
- Repeated. Men did the same to Christ. They took His garments and stripped away His dignity and honour, then sat down to watch.
- Silent. He did not answer the stripping — He submitted like a sheep before the shearers.
- Exalted. The stripping came first, then the pit. But the pit was not the end: God has exalted Him and given Him the name above every name.
and they took him and cast him into the pit; now the pit was empty -- there was no water in it.
This is the lowest point of the story. Joseph's brothers seize him, strip off his coat, and drop him into a dry pit. Commentators see raw family cruelty here. They also see a picture of Christ drawn in advance — and they mark where the picture stops.
Joseph loses the coat before he loses his freedom. The robe was his father's mark of honour on him. The brothers tear it off first.
The father had distinguished him by a coat of many colours; the brothers degrade him by stripping him. So it is with Christ. On many notable occasions He stands out above all others by some special display of divine power, wisdom and grace. At once man strips Him of His coat of many colours. Man tries to drag Him down to the level of a mere man by asking, "Is not this the carpenter's son?" or "Is not this the carpenter?" As with Joseph, the stripping was only the lead-up to the pit; so with Christ, the rejection of every witness to His glory led men at last with wicked hands to hand Him over to death.
Abraham once carried his son Isaac up a mountain to sacrifice him. Joseph goes the other way — down. One writer reads meaning in the two directions.
Isaac goes up to the mountain to be offered up. Joseph goes down to the pit. The mountain speaks of the glory of the Person offered up. The pit tells of the misery and degradation of those for whom He is offered up… If his brothers are ever to enter blessing and share in Joseph's glory, then Joseph must take their place — the place of distance and shame that the pit sets out. "Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins," and "unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies it remains alone."
The dry pit is the exact line where Joseph stops resembling Christ.
Joseph may again take up the story of the cross as his brothers cast him into the pit. But for him "the pit was empty; there was no water in it." How different the cross of Christ! At God's word "Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son." That same God can now say, "Awake, O sword, against My shepherd, against the man who stands next to Me." Twelve legions of angels await His commands, yet He tells not one of them to hold back the sword of judgment. It is no empty pit into which He must go. He can say, "You have put me in the depths of the pit, in the regions dark and deep. Your wrath lies heavy upon me, and You overwhelm me with all Your waves" (Ps. 88:6-7).
One writer marks two more differences: Joseph was not abandoned in the pit, and Joseph never chose it.
Cruel as the treatment by Joseph's brothers was, he was not forsaken. But Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"… The sufferings of Joseph were against his will; but the death of Jesus was His own voluntary offering. "I lay down my life for the sheep."
The dry pit could not kill Joseph. It could only hold him until his brothers found another way.
At Dothan, then, Joseph's brothers are found, and at once they plan to kill him. In fact they cast him into a pit, but one that holds no water. "It is not lawful for us," the Jews said to Pilate, "to put any man to death." Then they draw him out of it and sell him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. So Israel handed the Lord over to the Gentiles.
The pit is not the end of Joseph's road.
He was rejected and cast into the pit. He passed, in figure, through the deep waters of death, and so reached the place of dignity and glory. He was raised from the dungeon to rule over the land of Egypt, and to keep his brothers alive and provide for them… A striking picture of Him who hung upon the cross, lay in the grave, and is now on the throne of the majesty of heaven.
The verse says nothing about Joseph pleading from the pit. Years later, his brothers say it themselves.
Joseph did not speak of it; no one in Egypt knew of it; but conscience spoke inside them. It had been quiet for a time, but it could not be silent for ever. It now woke, and each of them remembered the very look of anguish on his face: "We saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen." Memory does not die, though it may sleep for a while.
- Stripped. The coat comes off before the man goes down — degrading the one the father honoured is the first step toward destroying him.
- Lowered. The pit displays not Joseph's glory but the brothers' corruption; to bless them, he must go down to where they are.
- Empty. No water meant Joseph lived. Christ's pit was not empty, and He chose to enter it.
- Drawn out. The dry pit only held him. His brothers pulled him up and sold him on — as Israel later handed the Lord to the Gentiles.
- Remembered. Joseph ends on a throne. His brothers end with an awakened conscience, recalling the pleading they refused to hear.
And they sat down to eat bread; and they lifted up their eyes and looked, and behold, a caravan of Ishmaelites came from Gilead; and their camels bore tragacanth, and balsam, and ladanum -- going to carry [it] down to Egypt.
The brothers throw Joseph into a pit, then sit down to a meal. While they eat, a trading caravan comes into view on the road to Egypt. Commentators see two things here: the human heart at its coldest, and God's hidden plan starting to move.
They ate while their brother lay in the pit. One writer sets that meal beside another meal, eaten by men who had just handed over an innocent victim.
Having cast Joseph into the pit, his brothers "sat down to eat bread." Nor was it otherwise at the cross. The presence of Joseph only reveals the evil of his brothers. In the same way, the cross exposes how deep the corruption of man's heart goes. The leaders of Israel hand the true Passover Lamb over to death, and then calmly sit down to eat the Passover feast. They are an evil and adulterous generation, like the adulterous woman of Proverbs, of whom it is written, "she eats and wipes her mouth and says, 'I have done no wrong.'"
Nothing spoiled their appetite, and nothing troubled their conscience — for the time being. Another writer says a quiet conscience is not the end of the matter. God alone can wake it.
None can teach like God. He alone can give the conscience the true sense of sin. He alone brings the soul down into the deep places of its own condition in His presence. Men run on in their life of guilt, taking notice of nothing, until the arrow of the Almighty pierces their conscience... Joseph's brothers had no idea of all that was to flow to them from what they did to him. "They took him and cast him into a pit … and they sat down to eat bread." "Woe to those … who drink wine in bowls and anoint themselves with the finest oils, but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph." (Amos 6:6)
The camels carried the ordinary trade goods of the region. Balm came from Gilead, and it stood for more than its price.
The gum of the balsam bush, of great medicinal value. Gilead was noted for producing it. It is used as a proverb to describe the healing God had for His people if they really turned to Him. Jer. 8:22; Jer. 46:11; Jer. 51:8. It was carried by the merchants into Egypt and elsewhere. Gen. 37:25; Ezek. 27:17.
One writer pictures Joseph travelling to Egypt among those same spices.
Meanwhile Joseph had gone "wrapped" with the myrrh and spices of the Ishmaelites to Egypt. Was it his fragrance that attracted Potiphar to buy him?
The sight of the traders changed the plan. Murder became business.
The traders on their way to Egypt at once suggest to Judah a chance of making a profit out of their brother. Why not sell Joseph and make a little money? If they are not going to satisfy their hatred by killing Joseph, why not satisfy their greed by selling Joseph?... "Profit" is the word that governed the actions of Joseph's brothers. Judah asks the question of the greedy heart — not "Is it right?" or "Is it wrong?" but "What profit is it?"
One writer sees more here than family cruelty. Out of the crime he sees a figure of Christ rise.
Yet in the middle of this heartlessness — toward the innocent sufferer, and toward the father who had sent him in love — a foreshadowing rises of Him who was to come. He is infinitely greater than Joseph. He too was the Beloved of His Father, and sent as Son of man in search of the lost. As the Faithful Witness, He drew out man's evil by divine good, and in everything He pleased God the Father.
The caravan the brothers used to get rid of Joseph was the very transport God used to place him where He wanted him.
Notice what Joseph's trial did. God's ordering kept it from anything that would hinder it. It was meant to frustrate God's purpose, and it looked completely against it. Yet that trial, and his righteous suffering in Egypt, only brought about the very thing they seemed to frustrate. It was the Egypt his brothers sold him to, and the prison Potiphar put him in, that brought him to the butler and the baker. That is what made him governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
- The meal. Men can eat calmly beside a brother they have just destroyed. The pit shows what is really in the heart.
- The silence. Their consciences said nothing that day — but God alone gives the true sense of sin, and He gave it to them years later.
- The profit. The passing caravan turned hatred into a transaction; Judah's question was not "Is it right?" but "What profit is it?"
- The picture. Joseph is the beloved son, sent by his father in love and rejected by his brothers. He points to One infinitely greater, sent to seek the lost.
- The road. The traders who carried Joseph away were carrying him toward the throne. The plan meant to defeat God's purpose is the plan that fulfilled it.
And Judah said to his brethren, What profit is it that we kill our brother and secrete his blood?
Joseph is in the pit. A caravan of traders comes into view, and Judah turns the moment into a business proposal.
Judah does not call the murder wrong. He calls it unprofitable.
The company of merchants on their way to Egypt at once suggests to Judah the chance of making a profit out of his brother. Why not sell Joseph and make a little money? If they are not going to satisfy their hatred by killing Joseph, why not satisfy their covetousness by selling Joseph? So they gave their brother up to the Gentiles, and gave themselves up to money-making… "Profit" is the word that governed the actions of Joseph's brothers. Judah asks the question of the covetous heart — not "Is it right?" or "Is it wrong?" but "What profit is it?"
Judah's plan looks merciful. It spares Joseph's life, appeals to blood ties, and spares them the trouble of hiding a body. But it draws one line and refuses the next.
A company of Ishmaelite traders appears, travelling towards Egypt. Judah is quick to see an ideal way to get rid of Joseph and make some money at the same time. So he points out to his brothers that killing Joseph and hiding it would gain them nothing. Selling him as a slave to the Ishmaelites would bring a profit — and leave them no dead body to get rid of. He also appeals to their sense of loyalty to their family relationship. Joseph was their brother. He seems to have a conscience against killing his brother, but no conscience against selling him as a slave!
Reuben saves Joseph from the sword; Judah proposes a sale instead of the pit. The differences are real, but they do not split the brothers into innocent and guilty.
There may be different degrees in the shared hatred; but in a deep moral sense they are all one generation. Reuben was Jacob's firstborn, and we may suppose he felt himself more answerable to the aged father for the boy than any of them. He saves Joseph from the sword, and Judah proposes selling him to the merchants instead of the pit. … The Judge of all the earth will surely do right. Sins will get their many stripes and their few stripes. But the world has cast out Jesus, and the world is the world. Here, all alike are the guilty brothers of Joseph.
Joseph's father sent him in love, and his brothers hand him over to strangers. One writer sees a greater Son behind that picture.
How evident that in Jehovah alone can one boast, and that the objects of His choice are in themselves nothing and worse than nothing! Yet heartlessness towards the guiltless sufferer, and towards the father who had sent him in love, is not all we see. In the middle of it rises a foreshadowing of Him who was to come, One infinitely greater than Joseph. He too was the Beloved of His Father, and sent as Son of Man in search of the lost.
The same writer notes which brother made the proposal — and what God later brought out of his line.
We may notice that it was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads who proposed the sale of Joseph. It was Judah. In his own house he later showed the evil that brought curse after curse. In the end he had to admit that Tamar, whom he had sentenced to die by fire, was more righteous than himself. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory, far beyond all that Joseph pictured, for He went far lower in humiliation and suffering.
Judah's story does not end with this bargain. Years later he speaks up about another younger brother.
He had taken the lead in selling Joseph to the Midianites going to Egypt, speaking with much hardness of heart. Now he has to speak about Benjamin, and what a change is clear! Instead of hardness, great tenderness of feeling, especially for his old father, Jacob. Then it did not matter how Jacob would feel: now it mattered everything to him. Here we see the working of a repentance not to be repented of.
- Calculation — Judah does not ask whether the deed is right, only what it pays.
- Cover — Calling Joseph "our brother" and keeping their hands clean dressed a crime up as restraint.
- Company — Reuben holds back, Judah sells, the rest agree. The degrees differ; all share the guilt.
- Christ — A father sends his beloved son; the brothers hand him to strangers. Writers see the shadow of a greater rejection — and the Redeemer came through guilty Judah's line.
- Change — The hard man who sold one brother later pleads for another. Commentators call that repentance at work.
Come and let us sell him to the Ishmaelites; but let not our hand be upon him; for he is our brother, our flesh. And his brethren hearkened [to him].
Joseph is in the pit, his brothers are eating nearby, and a trading caravan appears on the road to Egypt. Judah's proposal sounds almost merciful: spare his life, keep our hands clean. Yet it ends with a boy sold for silver. What will a conscience allow when money is on the table?
Killing Joseph would have satisfied their hatred. Selling him satisfies something else:
If they are not going to satisfy their hatred by killing Joseph, why not satisfy their greed by selling him? So they handed their brother over to the Gentiles, and handed themselves over to making money. "Profit" is the word that governed the actions of Joseph's brothers. Judah asks the question of the covetous heart — not "Is it right?" or "Is it wrong?" but "What profit is it?"
Judah gives his brothers two reasons to sell rather than kill. One is money. The other is that Joseph is family:
A company of Ishmaelite traders appear, traveling toward Egypt. Judah is quick to see an ideal way of getting rid of Joseph and gaining some money at the same time… He also appeals to their sense of some loyalty to their family relationship. Joseph was their brother (v. 27). He seems to have a conscience against killing his brother, but no conscience against selling him as a slave!
The words Judah uses are the Bible's set phrase for blood kinship, and Genesis uses it elsewhere too:
The same kindred: "you are my bone and my flesh," Gen. 29:14; "he is our brother, our own flesh." Gen. 37:27.
Reuben holds back from murder. Judah swaps the pit for a sale. The rest agree. One writer puts them all inside a single verdict:
There may be different measures in the common hatred, but in a great moral sense they are all one generation. Reuben saves Joseph from the sword, and Judah proposes selling him to the merchants instead of the pit… The Judge of all the earth will surely do right, and sins will get their many stripes and their few stripes. But the world has cast out Jesus, and the world is the world. Here, all are the guilty brothers of Joseph; and, as the outcome of their plans and their shared hatred, he is sold to the merchants.
Commentators read Joseph's life as a picture of Christ. Even the name of the man who proposes the sale points forward:
Judah sells him for a few pieces of silver, just as Judas sold the One he pictured — the same name, and a descendant of the same man. They kill him ("in a figure"). He passes to the Gentiles, where he is tempted, slandered, and numbered with wrongdoers.
What the brothers take for him measures him against the price of any slave:
Twenty pieces of silver is the price they get for him. This was just two-thirds the price of an average adult slave (see Ex. 21:32). Judas asked the chief priests what they would give for Jesus. Thirty pieces of silver is their offer… "Every man has his price" is a common saying of the world, and it is often untrue. But every soul that Satan cheats out of Jesus has its price. Some accept gold, others position or power. With some it is cheap pleasure, or lust, or some favourite secret sin.
The brothers chose the sale to be rid of Joseph. One writer traces where that road led — through prison and the two men he met there:
Notice how Joseph's trial… meant to frustrate God's purpose, and looking completely against it — and his righteous suffering in Egypt — only bring about the very thing they seemed to prevent. It was the Egypt his brothers sold him to, and the prison Potiphar put him in, that led him to the butler and baker, and made him governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
- Profit. Judah asks about gain, not about right and wrong. That is the question a covetous heart asks.
- Price. Twenty pieces of silver was below the price of an average slave. That was their brother's value to them.
- Pretence. The words "our brother, our own flesh" claim kinship in the same breath that sells him. This conscience refuses blood but accepts money.
- Picture. Judah sells Joseph for silver into foreign hands. Commentators see here Christ, sold by Judas and passed to the Gentiles.
- Purpose. The sale meant to defeat God's purpose became the road to Egypt and to rule. God's plan runs straight through man's worst bargain.
And Midianitish men, merchants, passed by; and they drew and lifted up Joseph out of the pit, and sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty silver-pieces; and they brought Joseph to Egypt.
Joseph's brothers turn their hatred into a business deal. They pull him out of the pit, hand him to a passing caravan, and take the silver. Behind this family crime sits a question the rest of Genesis answers: who was really directing the sale?
Reuben had planned to save Joseph. The sale happened while he was away, and the price his brothers took is set here beside the law's own price for a slave.
Reuben's plan to save him from his brothers fails. True, they do not kill him. They strip him of his coat of many colours and throw him into a pit in the wilderness. And in Reuben's absence, it seems, they sell him to the Ishmaelites. Twenty pieces of silver is the price they get for him. This was just two-thirds the price of an average adult slave (see Ex. 21:32). Judas asked the chief priests what they would give for Jesus. Thirty pieces of silver is their offer. They valued Him at the price of a slave. Yet He was always God's delight. All angels adore Him, demons fear Him, and to the crowds of the redeemed He is the "all" and the "altogether lovely"... The sold and slighted Saviour may well watch it all and say, with what sounds like irony, "What a fine price they set on Me!" (Zech. 11:13).
Judah's proposal in the previous verse shapes what happens here. Notice which question he does not ask.
The group of merchants on their way to Egypt at once gives Judah the idea of making a profit out of their brother. Why not sell Joseph and make a little money? If they will not feed their hatred by killing Joseph, why not feed their greed by selling him? So they gave their brother up to the Gentiles, and gave themselves up to making money... Judah asks the question for the covetous heart — not "Is it right?" or "Is it wrong?" but "What profit is it?"
Commentators see the sale as a picture of a later betrayal. Even the dry pit carries meaning.
In fact they throw him into a pit that holds no water. ("It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death," the Jews said to Pilate.) Then they draw him out of it and sell him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. So Israel handed the Lord over to the Gentiles.
The picture is close, but it is not the same. The empty pit that spared Joseph marks the point where the comparison breaks down.
Like Isaac in this picture, Joseph did not die; there was no water in the pit. But our precious Jesus sank in the deep mire... Isaac lay on the altar and was spared. Joseph went into the pit and was spared. But when Jesus hung on the cross, God did not spare His own beloved Son. Joseph's brothers treated him cruelly, yet he was not forsaken. Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"... Joseph suffered against his will. Jesus offered up His own life freely.
The brothers thought they were getting rid of a problem. In fact they were moving their family toward the land God had told Abraham about long before.
The famine was the immediate reason they went down to Egypt. But through the famine, and through the wickedness of Jacob's sons in selling their brother to the Ishmaelites (Gen. 37:28), God was simply carrying out His own purposes. Long before this He had said to Abram, "Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions."... So even human anger is harnessed to the chariot wheels of God's decrees.
Twenty years later, in an Egyptian prison, the memory of this day comes back to them.
Conscience connects their present trouble with their past sin. The prison has so far done its work. They not only say, "We are guilty," but "We are guilty concerning our brother." We saw the anguish of his soul, but we hardened our hearts. He begged us, but we shut our ears to all his pleading. "That is why this distress has come upon us."
- Price — Twenty pieces of silver was two-thirds the going rate for a slave. They sold a brother for less than a stranger was worth.
- Profit — Judah's question was not "Is it right?" but "What profit is it?" Selling Joseph fed their greed instead of their hate.
- Pattern — The brothers handed Joseph to outsiders for twenty pieces. Commentators see here a picture of Christ, handed to the Gentiles and sold for thirty.
- Limit — The pit had no water, and Joseph lived. God did not spare Christ, and Christ gave Himself freely. The picture points to Him, but it never reaches Him.
- Purpose — Their crime carried out what God had told Abraham: his family would serve in a foreign land, then come out rich. God harnessed their anger to His plan. Their guilt still found them twenty years later.
And Reuben returned to the pit, and behold, Joseph [was] not in the pit; and he rent his garments,
Reuben left Joseph alive in a waterless pit, meaning to come back for him and take him home to their father. He returns to an empty hole and tears his clothes. The verse leaves us with a man undone by a rescue that came too late.
Reuben's plan was not simple cruelty. One commentator sees God at work inside the scene, defeating the brothers' scheme through the brothers themselves.
God defeated their evil plan by touching the hearts of two of the brothers, Reuben and Judah. Of the two, Reuben appears in the better light. His purpose was to bring Joseph back to his father in the end. They stripped Joseph of the coat that showed the special place he had in his father's heart, and threw him into a pit with no water in it. Judah backed Reuben in this, but while Reuben was away he took the lead in selling Joseph to the Midianite merchants for twenty pieces of silver. So although Joseph did not actually die, he went down into the pit and was sold as a slave.
Torn clothes were a recognised act with a settled meaning. One commentator, writing about Ezra tearing his clothes, lists this verse among the examples.
The tearing of his clothes was the outward expression of his indignation and grief (Gen. 37:29; Lev. 10:6; Judges 11:35; Esther 4:1).
Reuben does not ask where Joseph is. He asks where he will go. One commentator hears fear in that question and asks what Reuben was afraid of.
Reuben was clearly not present when the brothers sold Joseph. When he returns to the pit he is shocked to find him gone (v. 29). His question to his brothers, "and I, where shall I go?" shows he feared being held responsible. Did he think Joseph had escaped and gone to report the whole matter to his father?
If Reuben had succeeded, Joseph would have gone straight home. One writer explains why that rescue was never going to work.
His elder brother Reuben comes to the rescue, meaning to get him out of the pit the brothers had thrown him into, and take him back to his father. Joseph would of course have been delighted if he had known Reuben's plan. But that kindness would have stopped Joseph's dreams from coming true, and so it failed.
One writer treats this moment at the pit as the signature of Reuben's whole character.
Two other features stand out in Reuben's character. One of them is the constant misery of the undecided mind. It is never really repentant, yet it is always full of regret over its weaknesses and its missed opportunities. When Reuben returned to the pit and found Joseph gone, "he tore his clothes … and said, 'The boy is gone, and I, where shall I go?'"
The brothers were not all guilty in the same way. One writer weighs Reuben's share against the rest.
All the brothers were guilty, but not to the same degree. Reuben was unstable, and morally corrupt, as we know from his history (Gen. 35:22; Gen. 49:3-4), but he was not cruel by nature. Like his brothers he has wronged his father, yet not all human affection has died in his heart. He would have spared Joseph's life, and his father's feelings.
Reuben's half-measure saved nobody, and it did not save Reuben either. One writer turns that into a question for the reader.
Many are like Reuben — they try to take a neutral place. He tries in a weak way to save Joseph's life, but he is careful that it costs him no risk. And he suffers along with his wicked brothers, just as if he had taken the leading part, like Judah… You cannot take a neutral place between this Christ-rejecting world and openly confessing His name.
- Intention. Reuben meant well: his purpose was to lift Joseph out and give him back to his father.
- Absence. He was not there when the sale happened. Good intentions that wait for a safe moment arrive at an empty pit.
- Reaction. Torn clothes were the sign of grief and indignation. But his cry is about where he will go — he feared being held responsible.
- Overruling. The kindness failed because it would have cancelled Joseph's dreams. God's purpose ran straight through the brothers' evil.
- Warning. Remorse that never turns into decision leaves you standing with the guilty. There is no neutral place to take.
and returned to his brethren, and said, The child is not; and I, where shall I go?
Reuben comes back to the pit alone, expecting to lift Joseph out and take him home, and finds it empty. His first words at the empty pit are not about his brother but about himself. That one sentence opens a window into the man.
Reuben's earlier plan (v. 22) was not pure rescue. His own place as the oldest son was part of the reckoning.
Reuben suggested just putting Joseph into a pit he could not escape from. He meant to set Joseph free later, so that Joseph could go back to his father (v. 22). He clearly felt that, as the oldest, he would answer to his father for what the brothers did. Evil does not usually stay hidden for long.
His question points away from Joseph and back to himself. One writer asks what lay behind it.
Reuben clearly was not there when the brothers sold Joseph. When he comes back to the pit, he is shocked to find him gone (v. 29). His question to his brothers, "and I, where shall I go?" shows he was afraid the blame would fall on him. Did he think that Joseph had escaped and gone home to tell his father the whole story?
Reuben was the eldest, so guarding Joseph was his duty. He did speak up for him — and one writer weighs what that speaking up was worth.
Joseph was in danger from his brothers. Reuben was the eldest, and he should have protected him. He does go so far as to say, "Shed no blood… throw him into this pit." He meant to rescue him. But something always happens to upset a Reuben's good intentions.
The same writer follows the trait down into Reuben's tribe, to a day when Israel went to war.
While Zebulun and Naphtali were "risking their lives on the heights of the field," locked in a death grip with a strong enemy, Reuben stayed among the sheepfolds. He was searching his heart about what he ought to do — sitting on the fence. I expect he had almost made up his mind by the time the battle was over. Well, it is a convenient way. And he has left many descendants.
Reuben tears his clothes. One writer separates that kind of grief from real repentance.
One feature that usually stands out in the Reuben character is the misery of the undecided mind. Such a mind is never truly repentant, yet it is always full of regret over its weaknesses or its missed opportunities. When Reuben returned to the pit and found Joseph gone, "he tore his clothes … and said, The boy is gone, and I, where shall I go?"
Reuben shared in the crime, but his brothers went further than he did. One writer says God keeps that difference in view.
Perfect goodness brings out the guilt of everyone. But though all are guilty, there are different measures of guilt. The Judge of all the earth will take account of this in due time, giving one person few lashes and another many. We see hints of these different degrees of guilt in the story of Joseph. All the brothers were guilty, but not in the same degree. Reuben was unstable, and morally corrupt, as we know from his history (Gen. 35:22; Gen. 49:3-4), yet he was not necessarily cruel. Like his brothers he has wronged his father, but not all human affection is dead in his heart. He would have spared Joseph's life, and his father's feelings.
Reuben's words — the boy is gone — become the family's settled account of Joseph for years. Writers see in this the shadow of a greater rejection.
Joseph is sold into Egypt, and his brothers have got rid of him. Jesus is killed, and the world has got rid of Him. The lies and deceit of Joseph's brothers work so well and for so long that Joseph is almost forgotten. If he is ever remembered, it is only as the one who is dead, or "the one that is not."
- Intention. Reuben meant to lift Joseph out and take him home. The plan was right. It was also about himself: as the oldest, he would answer to his father.
- Hesitation. He waited, and the chance was gone. Meaning well is not the same as acting in time, and his tribe kept the habit.
- Remorse. Torn clothes are not repentance. His cry is about his own exposure, not his brother's suffering.
- Accountability. The guilt was shared, but not equal. God weighs the difference and will settle it in His own time.
- Absence. "The boy is gone" became the family's story for years. Joseph was sold and almost forgotten — as Christ was rejected by the world.
And they took Joseph's vest, and slaughtered a buck of the goats, and dipped the vest in the blood;
Joseph is already gone, sold into Egypt, and his brothers must now face the father at home. Their answer is staged evidence: the coat their father had given Joseph, soaked in the blood of a goat.
The plan hangs on one object and on what Jacob will assume when he sees it.
They were guilty of cruel hatred both toward their brother and toward their father. They ask their father to examine the coat, to make sure it was Joseph's. Of course, in recognising it he assumed that a wild animal had killed and eaten his son. Apparently it did not occur to him to ask them if they found bones nearby or other pieces of clothing. A wild animal would not be so careful as to hide everything else and leave only a bloodstained coat.
Their words were as careful as their staging.
His brothers avoided the telling of a plain lie, they only inferred it, and Jacob fell into their trap.
Years earlier, Jacob had deceived his own father with goat skins. Writers point out that the two deceptions used the same tools.
Jacob is only reaping what he had already sown. Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a young goat." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceedingly small.
The clothing matters as much as the animal.
Esau's garment is called "fine clothing." As he was the elder, it may have been something very like Joseph's "coat of many colours." With fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; with fine clothing his sons deceived him. As he measured out, so it was measured back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
The goat turns up in other deceptions too.
So when Joseph's brothers sell him into Egypt, they take his coat of many colours, kill a young goat and dip the garment into the blood. They show it to their father, who thinks a wild animal has killed his beloved son. In both these cases the deceivers used a young goat, not a lamb. We find goats' hair used the same way when Michal, Saul's daughter, tried to deceive her father. David had fled from him.
They did not just hand over the coat. They sent a question with it.
They dipped the favoured coat, the coat that the old father had put on Joseph, in blood. Then they sent it to their father with these words: "This we have found; please identify whether it is your son's robe or not." This is the language of Cain: "Am I my brother's keeper?" Cain was laying the burden of Abel's blood on the Lord, hinting that the Lord should have been Abel's keeper, since He had shown such respect to him and his offering. So these words of Joseph's brothers seem to lay the burden of Joseph's blood on the aged father. If he loved him as much as this coat seemed to say he did, he should have looked after him better than this blood seemed to say he had.
The stripped coat recalls another stripping. And the brothers' secret had one witness they never counted.
Do you remember that they stripped Jesus of His clothes? When Joseph's brothers stripped off his coat, they killed a little goat and dipped the coat in the blood... It was very, very bad to deceive their old father like that. Even so, God saw all those things, and did not forget. He says, "they do not consider that I remember all their evil." For more than twenty years they kept quiet about the goat's blood on the coat. Nobody knew about it — nobody but God.
The same writer turns it on the reader.
How bad it is to try to cover up sin! God says, "be sure your sin will find you out." ... Now God has made a way to cover all the sins of those who confess them. There is no other way. Only the Lord Jesus' precious blood can cover people's sins.
- Blood that covers a crime. The brothers killed a goat and used its blood to hide what they had done. It was cruel to their brother and to their father.
- A lie without words. They never said Joseph was dead. They showed the coat and let Jacob reach that conclusion himself.
- Sown, then reaped. Goat skins once helped Jacob fool his father. Now goat's blood helps his sons fool him, measured back with precision.
- Delayed, not dropped. Long years may pass between the sowing and the reaping, but the reaping comes.
- Blood that truly covers. For over twenty years only God knew about the blood on that coat. The one covering that works is confession and the blood of Christ.
and they sent the vest of many colours and had it carried to their father, and said, This have we found discern now whether it is thy son's vest or not.
Jacob's sons have sold Joseph, and now they must deal with the father who sent him. They hand him the blood-stained coat and ask a question instead of making a statement. Then they let the old man draw his own conclusion.
They never claim that Joseph is dead. They put an object in front of their father and leave him to supply the ending.
Verses 31-35 recount the crafty way the brothers led Jacob to one conclusion: some evil beast had killed Joseph and eaten him. His brothers avoided telling a plain lie; they only implied it, and Jacob fell into their trap.
The words they choose keep Joseph at arm's length. He is not "our brother" but "your son." The words push the whole weight of the loss back onto the father who loved him.
What depths there are in the corruption that is in us! Here they took the favoured coat, the coat the old father had put on Joseph, and dipped it in blood. They sent it to their father with these words: "This we have found; please identify whether it is your son's robe or not." This is the language of Cain: "Am I my brother's keeper?" Cain was laying the burden of Abel's blood on the Lord. By these words he hinted that the Lord should have been Abel's keeper, since He had shown such regard for him and his offering. So these words of Joseph's brothers seem to lay the burden of Joseph's blood on the aged father. If he loved him as well as this coat seemed to say he did, he should have looked after him better than this blood seemed to say he had.
The same act wounds the brother who is gone and the father who remains.
They were guilty of cruel hatred both toward their brother and toward their father. They ask their father to examine the coat, to make sure it was Joseph's. Of course, in recognising it he assumed that a wild animal had killed and eaten his son. Apparently it did not occur to him to ask them if they had found bones in the area, or other pieces of clothing. For a wild animal would not be so careful as to hide everything else and leave only a bloodstained coat.
Jacob is the victim here. He is also a man who once deceived his own father in the same way.
They played a heartless trick on their father, and it plunges the old man into the deepest sorrow. Then these hypocrites gather round to comfort him. No one can excuse the wickedness of his sons. Even so, this scene shows Jacob only reaping what he had already sown. Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a young goat." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes.
Commentators read Joseph here as a picture of Christ. The sharp point is why he was with them at all.
Like the Lord, Joseph was in his measure a vessel of divine wisdom in humiliation that deepened into the shadow of death. He was rejected and scorned most by his brothers, and sold to the Gentiles. His father had sent him to them on an errand of love, and that very errand gave them the chance to vent their hatred on his lowly and blameless head.
The lie held for decades. But one witness saw everything.
It was very, very bad to deceive their old father like that. Even so, God saw all those things and did not forget... For more than twenty years they kept quiet about the goat's blood on the coat, so nobody knew it — but GOD.
Years later in Egypt, the same men faced a charge of theft they were innocent of. This time they did the opposite.
They had once hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
- Cover. They avoided a flat lie and used an implication instead; Jacob "fell into their trap" all the same.
- Cruelty. Calling Joseph "your son" echoes Cain's "Am I my brother's keeper?" The brothers shift the burden onto the grieving father.
- Crop. Goat skins once deceived Jacob's own father; goat's blood now deceives Jacob. Long years may separate sowing from reaping, but the reaping comes.
- Christ. Joseph came on an errand of love from his father. That errand gave his brothers their chance to be rid of him — a shadow of One rejected the same way.
- Confession. Twenty years of silence ended in Egypt, where the men who once hid their guilt stopped hiding it at all.
And he discerned it, and said, [It is] my son's vest! an evil beast has devoured him Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces!
Jacob's sons hand him a torn, blood-soaked coat and ask him to identify it. In one breath he reaches a verdict that is wrong, and it will govern the next twenty years of his life.
His sons handed him an object, not a statement. They let the evidence speak, and Jacob supplied the story himself — without testing it.
They ask their father to examine the coat, to make sure it was Joseph's. Of course, in recognizing it he surmised that a wild animal had killed and eaten his son. It seems it did not occur to him to ask them if they found bones in the area or other articles of clothing. For a wild animal would not be so careful as to hide everything else and leave only a bloodstained coat.
His sons planned that silence. They never spoke the lie out loud.
His brothers avoided telling a plain lie; they only implied it, and Jacob fell into their trap.
His sons used the same trick he had once used on his own blind father.
Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a young goat." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceedingly small.
The match goes further than the goat. It reaches back to a garment and a blind old man.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father, Isaac, by wearing Esau's fine clothes. Since Esau was the elder, that clothing may have been very similar to Joseph's robe of many colours. By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; by fine clothing his sons deceived him. As he measured out, so it was measured back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
Two verses later Jacob says he will go down to Sheol, mourning, to his son. Commentators point out that he cannot have meant a grave.
That the word cannot mean the grave here is clear from this passage. Jacob believed his son Joseph was dead. The sight of his son's robe of many colours, dyed red in blood, deceived him, and he exclaimed, "Joseph is without doubt torn to pieces." So he had not the slightest hope of his own body being put in his son's grave, since he did not believe that grave existed at all.
Jacob's conclusion shut him in. Another believing father, facing the death of his child, went the other way.
Jacob says, "I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning." But of David we read that he "arose… and went into the house of the LORD and worshipped." Both men are facing the death of a child. One says, "I will go down to Sheol mourning." The other says, "I will go up to the house of the LORD and worship." Yet both were true saints. One looked no further than death and the grave. The other looked beyond death to resurrection.
The brothers walked away from that scene believing the matter was closed. It was not.
Joseph's blood is on themselves, however much they try to hide it. The day is coming when their sin will find them out. Then this blood on Joseph's coat will be a swift witness against them.
Their secret held for a very long time. But one witness knew.
For more than twenty years they kept quiet about the goat's blood on the coat, so nobody knew it — but God.
Years later the same sons came back with news that overturned his verdict.
When Joseph made himself known to his brothers, he had been, as it were, dead for about twenty years. Twenty long years had passed since his father had said, "I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning." Jacob had torn his clothes, put on sackcloth, and wept for him. But now Israel said, "It is enough; Joseph my son is still alive." As a picture of Christ, death and resurrection are the two great points.
- Sown — Jacob once fooled his blind father with a goat and a garment. The same two things come back to him decades later.
- Reaped — the reaping came late, but it came exactly. God's government works with precision.
- Misread — his sons told no outright lie. They handed him the evidence and let him reach the wrong verdict himself.
- Unresolved — Jacob believed Joseph's body was gone, so he expected no grave and no comfort. He mourned downward, where another father worshipped upward.
- Overturned — the blood on the coat stayed a secret for over twenty years. Then "torn to pieces" gave way to "Joseph my son is still alive."
And Jacob rent his clothes, and put sackcloth on his loins, and mourned for his son many days.
Jacob's sons hand him Joseph's torn coat, and he draws the conclusion they intended. What follows is not a passing moment of grief. It is a way of life: torn clothes, sackcloth, and mourning that runs on for many days.
The clothes Jacob tore were his main outer garment.
The other main garment was the simlah, a cloak or wide outer mantle, worn by men and women, who wrapped themselves in it at night… The simlah is the garment that was torn in grief. Genesis 37:34; Genesis 44:13; Joshua 7:6.
Then he put on sackcloth. This was not a gesture made once and set aside. It was a rough covering worn against the skin, day and night.
A rough cloth made of hair, used for sacks and coarse clothing. Anyone who put it on as a symbol of sorrow or repentance wore it next to the skin, and did not take it off at night. It was often used together with ashes.
Fine clothing is what deceives Jacob here. Years before, he had used fine clothing himself to deceive his blind father.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob, by wearing Esau's garment, deceived his blind father, Isaac. Esau's garment is called "fine clothing." As he was the elder, it may have been something very similar to Joseph's coat of many colours. By fine clothing Jacob deceived his father; by fine clothing his sons deceived him. As he measured out, so it was measured back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
The gap between the two deceptions was long.
Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with "a young goat." There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes.
Later, Jacob faces another loss, and he answers it in a very different way.
In the first instance he tore his clothes, put sackcloth on his body, and refused to be comforted. "For," he said, "I will go down to the grave to my son, mourning." But in the last he says, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved" — in other words, "I submit." What a difference! What desolation, when the heart is wrenched and there is no resource in God! But what a contrast, when the Almighty God is a refuge… This is simple submission to the will of God, and it does for us what God so much desires — that we should find our resources in Him. The soul brought to this is never unsatisfied.
Jacob was a man of real faith. Yet another grieving father in Scripture met the same loss in the opposite way.
Jacob says, "I will go down to the grave to my son, mourning"; but of David we read that he "arose… and went into the house of the LORD and worshipped." Both men stand in the presence of the death of a child. One says, "I will go down to the grave mourning." The other says, "I will go up to the house of the LORD and worship." Yet both were true saints. One looked no further than death and the grave. The other looked beyond death to resurrection.
Joseph suffered as an innocent man, sent out by a father who loved him. Commentators see a larger picture behind that.
This is heartlessness toward the innocent sufferer, and toward the father who had sent him in love. Yet in the middle of it rises the foreshadowing of Him who was to come, one infinitely greater than Joseph. He too was the Beloved of His Father, and was sent as Son of Man to seek the lost.
Every day of those "many days" Joseph was alive. He mourned a death that had not happened.
Everything seemed to be against Jacob. But little as he knew it, the very things he thought were against him were working for the richest blessing, both for him and for his children… God used the loss of Joseph to preserve Jacob and his house, and also to preserve the lives of many more.
- Sign — Jacob tore his outer cloak and put on hair-cloth next to his skin. These were the marks of a man in mourning, not a passing gesture.
- Sowing — the garment that deceived Isaac came back as the garment that deceived Jacob. Thirty years passed, but "God's government of His people works with great precision."
- Sorrow — grief that refuses comfort has no refuge in God. Later the same man says, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved." That is submission, and it finds its resource in Him.
- Sight — Jacob looked no further than the grave and went down mourning. David lost a child too, and went up to worship. He looked beyond death to resurrection.
- Shadow — a beloved son, sent by his father in love and lost to him, points ahead to One infinitely greater. And while Jacob mourned, the son he wept for was alive, and God was using him to preserve his father's house.
And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted, and said, For I will go down to my son into Sheol mourning. Thus his father wept for him.
Jacob's sons bring him a bloodstained coat. He draws the conclusion they intended: his favourite son has been torn to pieces. What follows is one of the rawest pictures of grief in the Bible. Here is a father who refuses all comfort, and who expects to mourn until his own death.
Long before, Jacob had used goatskins and borrowed clothes to steal his brother's blessing from his blind father. Commentators notice that his sorrow now comes by the same means as his sin.
In Genesis 27 we read how Jacob deceived his blind father, Isaac, by wearing Esau's garment. That garment is described as Esau's "best garments," and since he was the elder son it may have been much like Joseph's "coat of many colours." Fine clothes were how Jacob deceived his father, and fine clothes were how his sons deceived him. He dealt out deceit, and it was dealt back to him. God's government of His people works with great precision.
The time-lag between the two events is part of the lesson.
Thirty years before, Jacob had deceived his father with "the skins of the young goats." Now, after long years, his own sons deceive him with a young goat. There may be long years between the sowing and the reaping, but at last the reaping time comes. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind very fine.
All his children gather round him, and they are the ones who deceived him. Their sympathy is an act, and their father's grief is their punishment.
His mourning for his son went on for a long time. All his sons and his daughters tried to comfort him, but he would not respond. Of course the comfort his sons offered was hypocritical, and we may be sure that Jacob's intense sorrow troubled their consciences all the more. He tells them that the agony of his mourning will not be relieved before he goes "down to Sheol" — the unseen state of soul and spirit that begins at death.
Jacob was a true man of God, yet here his hope reaches no further than the tomb. Set his words beside another grieving father's.
Jacob says, "I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning." Of David we read that he "arose ... and came into the house of the LORD and worshipped." Both men stand in the presence of a child's death, but one goes down mourning and the other goes up to worship. Both were true saints, yet one looked no further than death and the grave, while the other looked beyond death to resurrection.
Jacob believed there was no body left to bury. That rules out one reading of his words.
The word cannot mean the grave here. Jacob believed his son Joseph was dead. He had been deceived by the sight of his son's coat of many colours, dyed red with blood, and he cried out, "Joseph is without doubt torn to pieces." So he had not the slightest hope of his own body being laid in his son's grave, when he did not believe that grave existed at all.
Another writer weighs what Jacob's words would mean if death ended everything.
Jacob speaks of going down to Sheol to his son Joseph; and that has very little force if it means going down to nothing at all. David's words about his child make the point stronger still: "I shall go to him, but he will not return to me" (2 Sam. 12:23).
This refusal to be comforted is not Jacob's last word on bereavement. Compare it with what he says later.
In the first instance he tore his clothes, put sackcloth on his waist, and refused to be comforted... But in the last he says, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved" — in other words, "I submit." What a difference! What desolation, when grief tears the heart and there is no resource in God! What a contrast, when the Almighty God is a refuge, and the grieving one can say, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved!"
And the grief rested on a lie. The son Jacob mourned was alive.
When Joseph made himself known to his brothers, he had been, as it were, dead about twenty years. Yes, twenty long years had passed since his father had said, "I shall go down to Sheol to my son, mourning."... But now Israel said, "It is enough; Joseph my son is yet alive."
- Sowing. Jacob deceived a father with a garment and a goat; his sons deceived him with a garment and a goat. God's government works with precision, however many years lie between.
- Reaping. The comfort he is offered is worthless. His comforters caused the wound, and every tear he sheds presses on their consciences.
- Dimness. Jacob's faith goes only as far as the grave. David, in the same loss, went up to worship, looking past death to resurrection.
- Sheol. Jacob expected to go to his son. Sheol is the unseen state of soul and spirit after death, not a going down into nothing.
- Submission. The man who refused comfort later says, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved." He lives to say, "It is enough; Joseph my son is yet alive."
And the Midianites sold him into Egypt, to Potiphar, a chamberlain of Pharaoh, the captain of the life-guard.
Genesis 37 ends far from home. Joseph is alive, sold into Egypt, and now the property of one of Pharaoh's officials. The verse names the man who bought him and the post he held. Behind the sale stands a larger question: who was directing it?
Potiphar's post was "captain of the guard." One dictionary shows what the older margin does with that title:
The word "executioner" does not occur in the Old Testament text, only in the margin. In three places the text points out men as "captain of the guard," while the margin calls them "chief of the executioners or slaughtermen": Genesis 37:36; Jeremiah 39:9; Daniel 2:14.
So Joseph did not just change country. He became the property of the man over Pharaoh's executioners.
The chapter records two sales: brothers to traders, traders to an Egyptian. The story names those traders both ways — Ishmaelites and Midianites. The second sale moves Joseph out of Israel's family and into Gentile hands, and commentators see there the shadow of a later handing-over.
Joseph's brothers plan at once to kill him. In fact they throw him into a pit — but a pit with no water in it. "It is not lawful for us to put anyone to death," the Jews said to Pilate. Then they draw him out of it and sell him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. So Israel handed the Lord over to the Gentiles.
The parallel is not exact. Commentators mark the difference in price: twenty pieces of silver for Joseph, thirty for Christ (L. M. Grant).
The verse reads like a business record. One writer sets it beside what the brothers admitted years afterwards:
Scripture says nothing here about how deeply Joseph felt the trauma of his ordeal. But we learn something of it from his brothers' later words to one another: "we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen" (Gen. 42:21). He was now taken to a far distant country and made a slave at the tender age of seventeen. How many must have been the hours of his painful agony!
Egypt appears more than once in Genesis, and the outcome is not always the same. One writer draws the contrast from a single verb:
Thus Joseph passes into the land of the Gentiles and is "brought" into Egypt. Egypt was a snare to Abraham, and his stay in Egypt brought him only sorrow and shame. With Joseph, however, it brought blessing and glory. Why this difference? Is it not that in Abraham's case he "went down into Egypt to sojourn there" (Gen. 12:10); but Joseph was "brought" into Egypt. One went there in unbelief and self-will. God brought the other there according to His own settled purpose and foreknowledge.
The brothers meant the sale to defeat God's purpose. The place they sold him into is where God carried it out.
Notice how God's ordering kept Joseph's trial from anything that could hinder it. The trial was meant to frustrate God's purpose, and it seemed to run clean against it. Yet his righteous suffering in Egypt is the very thing that brought about the whole plan they seemed to be frustrating. It was the Egypt his brothers sold him to, and the prison Potiphar put him in, that brought him to Pharaoh's butler and baker — and that made him governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
God's overruling reached beyond one man. It also governed the timing of an inheritance:
But then God was in all this, as well as man; and it is His prerogative to bring good out of evil. Joseph's brothers might sell him to the Ishmaelites. The Ishmaelites might sell him to Potiphar. Potiphar might throw him into prison. But the LORD was above it all, and He was accomplishing His own mighty ends. "The wrath of man shall praise Him." The time had not yet come when the heirs were ready for the inheritance, and the inheritance ready for the heirs.
- Sold. The chapter closes with a price on a favoured son. Traders hand him to Potiphar, captain of Pharaoh's guard — a title the margin renders "chief of the executioners."
- Handed over. Israel's own family passed Joseph into Gentile — that is, non-Jewish — hands. Commentators see the shadow of a later handing-over, at a lower price: twenty pieces of silver against thirty.
- Suffered. The verse says nothing of Joseph's agony. His brothers supply the missing line years later, remembering the distress of his soul as he begged them.
- Brought. The verb matters. Abraham went down to Egypt in self-will. God brought Joseph there by His own purpose — same country, opposite outcome.
- Overruled. The very Egypt they sold him into, and the very prison Potiphar threw him into, made him governor over all Egypt. "We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him."
And it came to pass at that time, that Judah went down from his brethren, and turned in to a man of Adullam whose name was Hirah.
Genesis 38 opens with one move that changes everything for Judah: he leaves his brothers and turns aside to a man of Adullam. The chapter also breaks off the story of Joseph mid-flow, which raises two questions — where does this departure lead, and why is it recorded here?
The wording of the verse is itself a warning. One writer reads the direction of travel as a signal of what the chapter will contain.
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite (the Merchant) with all its ruin. The words of Scripture, "went down from," show the path of departure he set out on. They warn the reader that what follows will be marked by sin. Judah's deliberate departure will have serious results. He must learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He must learn that "whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Gal. 6:7).
Leaving does not happen all at once. One writer traces the same slow drift in Samson's life, and names what the enemy is after.
It is pretty easy to get away a very long distance without knowing it. The heart does not fall away all at once. It happened little by little in Samson's story (see Judges 13–16). He was a Nazirite — a man set apart for God. There was no feat of strength he could not perform with ease. What was the secret of it? God sustained him. As long as he stayed separate, God kept him. But after a while his affections drifted away from Jehovah... What the devil wants above all is to get you cosy with the world.
Joseph has just been carried into Egypt, and the narrative breaks off. One writer sees the placing as deliberate: Judah's record sets off the record of his brother.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph completely. Genesis 39 picks it up again, and at once tells of the great temptation he faced. It seems that the shameful story of Judah is told here to sharpen in our minds the way Joseph stood firm under a temptation of the same kind. Judah seems to have been among the better behaved of Jacob's sons. Yet the practices that marked him and his family were evil, and they clearly accepted them as nothing unusual.
It matters which brother this is. Judah had proposed the sale of Joseph, and the chapter shows what such a man's own household becomes.
The chapter needs few words to press home its proof of how low Judah had sunk morally, just as the next needs few to show Joseph blessed and a blessing... And notice that it was not Reuben or any other of the heads of the tribes, but Judah who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse upon curse. In the end the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself, the man who had condemned her to die by fire.
Beyond the personal failure, one writer reads Judah here as a picture of his whole people. The names in the chapter carry the point.
Right at the start Judah separates himself from his brothers and ties himself to the Canaanite — the "merchant" — marrying the daughter of Shuah (which means "riches"). These names say plainly what has marked the nation in the centuries since the cross! Yet his line still continues on the earth, even though God's wrath rests on the first two sons. Their names speak too: Er of "enmity," and Onan of "iniquity." The third son, Shelah (perhaps "sprout"), speaks of divine power in resurrection, bringing life out of death. So a remnant is kept.
The chapter that begins with a man walking away ends by feeding into the family line of Christ. One writer sees God's own hand in that.
The story of Tamar shows us God's own marvellous way of bringing Christ into connection with Judah. So her name appears in the Lord's family line in Matthew's Gospel, the first of those four women's names. Their presence there shows the grace that has stooped down to take up men... Tamar's sin is the point pressed home, just as Rahab's faith is. For Ruth to come in, the sentence of the law has to be set aside. And Bathsheba shows us grace winning even over a believer's sin.
- Down — the phrase "went down from" sets the tone. Judah chose to leave, and sin marks all that follows.
- Drift — the heart cools first, and the feet follow. Samson lost his separation the same slow way, and that is just what the devil wants.
- Contrast — the story of Joseph breaks off on purpose. Judah falls under temptation; Joseph, facing the same kind, stands firm.
- Harvest — the man who proposed selling Joseph reaps evil in his own house. He condemns Tamar, yet she is more righteous than he is.
- Grace — this walk away still leads into the family line of Christ. Tamar's sin, Rahab's faith, the law set aside for Ruth and Bathsheba's failure each show grace stooping to take up sinners.
And Judah saw there the daughter of a Canaanitish man whose name was Shua; and he took her, and went in to her.
Genesis 38 breaks into the story of Joseph. Judah has left his brothers, and here he marries into the people of the land. Commentators read the verse as a warning, and as the start of a family line that God's grace would not abandon.
The chapter sits inside Joseph's history. One writer reads the two brothers against each other.
This chapter is seldom read in public, because it deals with deeds of the darkest kind. It shows human nature raw, in its sordid character away from God. It has a strange place, tucked into the unfolding story of Joseph... Joseph's high moral conduct shines like a bright light. It makes the corrupt, unprincipled behaviour of his brother Judah stand out even more. Joseph was a conscript into the world, like Daniel in later years. Sadly many are determined to go into the place where Christ has been rejected. They do not lose their first love — they leave it.
The verse says Judah saw. Sight made the choice, and older commands counted for nothing.
In the second verse we see the downward path bringing Judah into the closest association with a daughter of a Canaanite... Here he repeats the sin of Esau, whose marriages were a grief to his parents (Gen. 26:35). Judah had no regard for the landmark Abraham set up long before. Abraham said, "you will not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites" (Gen. 24:3). He had no scruple about marrying a pagan, "the daughter of a foreign god" (Mal. 2:11). For the Christian today the principle is clear. The instruction of 2 Corinthians 6:14-15 is, "Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers." The phrase "Judah saw" suggests the standard he used in choosing a wife. It was much the same with Samson later: "Samson went down to Timnah, and at Timnah he saw one of the daughters of the Philistines" (Judges 14:1). There was no thought of choosing according to the mind of God.
Placed in the family line, Judah's act marks a low point. Abraham guarded against the danger, Isaac grieved over it, Jacob let it pass — and Judah supplies it himself.
But Judah afterwards goes beyond even all this in a very frightening way. He represents the fourth generation of this chosen family. He does not guard against trouble beforehand, as Abraham did in ordering his family. He does not grieve over trouble once it has come in, as Isaac did. He is not even simply indifferent to it, as Jacob was. He brings it in himself!
The names carry meaning, and so do the sons born of this marriage.
Here at the very start Judah separates himself from his brothers. He joins himself to the Canaanite — the "merchant" — and marries the daughter of Shuah (or "riches"). Surely these names tell us plainly what has marked the nation through the centuries since the cross! Even so, his line still continues on the earth. God's anger falls on the first two sons, whose names speak of "enmity" in Er and "iniquity" in Onan. But the third son, Shelah ("sprout"), speaks of divine power in resurrection, bringing life out of death. In this way a remnant is preserved.
Judah's marriage puts the family line at risk, and one writer sees more than human failure behind it.
This passage gives us the first crisis of succession in Judah. We know that our Lord came from Judah (Matt. 1:3; Heb. 7:14), and so we can see Satan pushing his way into these events. His aim was always to hinder the coming and work of the Messiah.
Judah's tribe would give Israel her kings. That makes this marriage worse, and grace greater.
Judah was to be the chief royal tribe, and the ancestor of the King of kings. Yet without reverence he takes a daughter of Canaan for himself. No wonder wickedness killed his firstborn... Such is man, and such is Judah; but such too is God. Where terrible sin abounded, grace much more abounded.
The family record itself proves it. Names from this chapter turn up in the ancestry of Christ.
Here is one of those remarkable cases where divine grace triumphs in glory over man's sin... "Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar" (Matt. 1:3). This is very striking. God, in His great grace, rises above the sin and folly of man to carry out His own purposes of love and mercy... How clear it is that there is nothing of man in this! Man could never have devised such a genealogy.
- Descent. A downward path brings Judah into the closest tie with a Canaanite family; Joseph, forced into the world, keeps his conduct high.
- Sight. "Judah saw" is the whole basis of his choice — the same word that marked Samson — with no reference to the mind of God.
- Landmark. Abraham had ruled out a wife from the daughters of Canaan. Judah ignored that landmark and brought the trouble in himself.
- Harvest. The names tell the outcome: a merchant people and riches, then enmity in Er and iniquity in Onan — yet Shelah, the "sprout," keeps a remnant alive.
- Grace. At the lowest point of the family record, God writes Tamar and Perez into the ancestry of Christ. No man could have designed such a genealogy.
And she conceived and bore a son; and he called his name Er.
Genesis 38 leaves the story of Joseph to follow Judah, who has left his brothers and married into a Canaanite family. Two questions follow the son born here: what grows from a step away from God, and what God will do with such a family.
One writer sees Judah's story placed here as a contrast to Joseph and the temptation he faced:
Genesis 38 completely interrupts the story of Joseph. Genesis 39 takes it up again and at once tells of the great temptation he faced. It seems the shameful story of Judah is told here to sharpen our sense of how firmly Joseph stood under a temptation of the same kind. Judah seems to have been one of the better behaved sons of Jacob. Yet the practices that marked him and his family were evil, and were clearly accepted as nothing unusual.
Judah's fall did not happen in one step. One writer shows how people let go of God's principles, a little at a time:
How this warns us of our tendency to drift from God's principles! What happened in the same chosen family, generation after generation, may happen in the same chosen person, year after year. People may desert the principles of God by easy stages. They may first relax them, then forget them, then despise them. Those principles may pass from a firm hand into an easy one, then into an indifferent one, until at last a rebellious hand flings them away.
Judah himself gives this first son his name. One writer takes up the meaning of that name and what the boy made of it:
Er was the firstborn of Judah's strength. His father named him, and the meaning of his name may be "watchful". Er clearly became watchful for chances to do evil... Jehovah saw his wickedness, and he reaped the due reward of his actions... It is not easy to bring up children in an evil world. When parents introduce their children to the things of this present evil age, those children will throw themselves into the world with all its ruin and its turning away from God.
Commentators differ on what Er's name means. Another writer takes it as "enmity" and reads the three brothers as a picture of the nation that came from Judah:
Right at the start Judah separates himself from his brothers and joins himself to the Canaanite — the "merchant" — by marrying the daughter of Shuah (or "riches"). These names tell us plainly what has marked the nation in the centuries since the cross! His seed still continues on the earth, though God's wrath rests on the first two sons. Their names speak: Er of "enmity", Onan of "iniquity". The third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of divine power in resurrection, bringing out of death. So a remnant is preserved.
In this chapter God is called by His covenant name, "Jehovah", not by the general word for God. The same name runs through the next chapter, where it does the opposite work:
This chapter needs few words to press home its proof of how low Judah had sunk, just as the next needs few to show Joseph blessed and a blessing. Both chapters mark the name "Jehovah", not just "God". In Genesis 38 that name judges the open breaking of His will. In Genesis 39 it makes Joseph prosper, because he sought to please Jehovah.
Judah's story only gets worse from here. Yet one writer points to what came out of this family line:
In Judah's history we find his utter wandering and misery. Yet in it, and out of it, comes the genealogy of grace. He marries Canaanites. Sin is in his family. He commits immorality with his own daughter-in-law. Everything had gone wrong. Yet out of this sprang the One in whom men would bless others.
One writer follows this line into the record of Jesus' family in Matthew's Gospel:
The Tamar of this chapter is the first of the women named in the genealogy of our Lord in Matthew 1... Such names would never have appeared in that record if it were not for the grace of God — the grace that triumphs over human sin.
- Departure. This son is born after Judah walks away from his brothers. Principles go by stages: first relaxed, then forgotten, then despised, then thrown away.
- Household. Judah named this son himself. Children throw themselves into whatever their parents show them.
- Names. Commentators differ on Er's name: "watchful", or "enmity". Set beside Onan's "iniquity" and Shelah's "sprout", the three sons picture a nation judged and a remnant preserved.
- Judgment. The covenant name Jehovah runs through both chapters. Here it judges the breaking of His will. In the next it blesses Joseph.
- Grace. Out of this wandering and misery comes the genealogy of grace — the line that runs on to the One in whom men would bless others.
And she again conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Onan.
Judah's second son by his Canaanite wife arrives, and his mother names him Onan. The verse reads like a plain birth record. Yet commentators find two things in it: the fruit of a wrong step Judah had already taken, and the start of a line God would not abandon.
Judah left his brothers and settled among the Canaanites before this son was born. One writer points to the wording Scripture uses for that move:
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite (the Merchant) in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the course of departure he set out on. They alert the reader that what follows will be marked by sin. Judah's wilful departure will have serious consequences. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He has to learn that "whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Gal. 6:7).
Another writer reads the three sons' names as a sequence. Er, Onan and Shelah sketch, in order, what Judah's line would prove to be and what God would still keep out of it:
Here at the start, Judah separates himself from his brothers and joins himself to the Canaanite — the "merchant." He marries the daughter of Shuah (or "riches"). These names give us in plain speech the characteristics of the nation in these centuries since the cross! His seed is, however, continued on the earth. God's wrath is on the first two sons, whose names speak: Er of "enmity," and Onan of "iniquity." The third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of divine power in resurrection bringing out of death. Thus a remnant is preserved.
A study of Bible names gives the sense of Onan in two directions at once — strength, and wrongdoing:
Onan — their vigour (feminine): their iniquity
Both halves of that meaning show up later in the chapter. Onan had strength to give, and he refused to give it:
Onan married Tamar but then refused to grant her the privilege of being the mother of Judah's heir. He was prepared to marry her and enjoy married relations, but he wanted to hold back from giving his strength. The sin that is so displeasing to God in Onan's case was not simply spilling his seed on the ground. It was selfishness. He wanted her to remain a childless and despised widow, and this governed his whole attitude. It was not a single sin but a repeated one, for the word "when" in verse 9 should read "whenever." So, as with his wicked brother, the solemn harvest was reaped, and the Lord slew him too (v. 10).
This chapter does not use the general title "God." It uses the Lord's personal name, and it uses it for judgment on this household:
The chapter needs few words to prove Judah's low moral state. The next chapter needs as few to show Joseph blessed and a blessing. Both mark the name "Jehovah," not just "God": in Genesis 38 He judges the open breaking of His will... And notice this: it was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his house the evil that drew down curse upon curse.
Onan dies childless and under judgment. Yet the family record that holds his name is the record through which Christ came. For one commentator, that is the point of the whole chapter:
Genesis 38 presents one of those remarkable cases where divine grace triumphs gloriously over man's sin. "It is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah" (Heb. 7:14). But how? "Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar" (Matt. 1:3). This is striking. God, in His great grace, rises above the sin and folly of man to bring about His own purposes of love and mercy... Man could never have devised such a genealogy. It is entirely divine.
- Departure. Judah "went down from" his brothers first. Onan and his brothers were born after that step — and a man reaps what he sows.
- Names. Er, Onan and Shelah mean enmity, iniquity, and a sprout — two sons under God's wrath, and a third through whom God preserves a remnant.
- Strength. Onan's name means both vigour and iniquity. His sin was strength he held back from another, again and again.
- Jehovah. The chapter uses the Lord's personal name, and it names Him as the One judging the open breach of His will in this household.
- Grace. Christ came through this same family line. No man could have devised such a genealogy; grace wrote it, rising over the worst of man's sin.
And again she bore a son, and she called his name Shelah; and he was at Chezib when she bore him.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph to follow Judah, who has left his brothers and married into a Canaanite family. This verse names his third son, Shelah, and adds the town where he was born — a small detail in which commentators find both a warning and a hope.
Shelah is the third son born since Judah left his brothers and married among the people of the land. One writer reads these names as a picture of the nation itself.
Right at the start Judah separates himself from his brothers and ties himself to the Canaanite — the "merchant" — by marrying the daughter of Shuah (which means "riches"). These names tell us in plain words what the nation has been like in the centuries since the cross! Yet his line is still kept going on the earth, even though God's wrath rests on the first two sons. Their names speak of "enmity" (Er) and of "iniquity" (Onan). The third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of God's power in resurrection, bringing life out of death. So a remnant is preserved.
Shelah's name is read in more than one way. Some take it as "sprout," a word of new growth. In another place the same writer ties the name to peace, and sets the third son against the two who were cut off.
First we are taken back to Er and Onan, so that we remember what kind of history Judah's family had. In these two, the enmity against God, and the iniquity that this enmity shows itself in, are condemned and pass away. No fruit of righteousness — Tamar, the "palm" — can come from them. In the third son, Shelah, Judah's line finds something like its resurrection, and his name speaks of "peace," found here for the first time.
The verse records where Judah was when this son was born. One writer takes that detail as deliberate and reads the town's name beside the child's name.
Shelah is the last son born, and his name is said to mean "a sprout." The people who are now outcasts will yet see a national revival. Israel is the fig tree putting out its leaves. Their long, dark winter will soon be over, and their springtime of sprouting will have come (see Matt. 24:32-35; Song 2:11-13). And the inspired writer is careful to tell us where Shelah was born: "Judah was in Chezib when she bore him." Chezib means "false." So the nation will sprout at a time when false prophets and false Christs are everywhere.
Why does this shameful family record sit in the middle of Joseph's story? One answer is that the contrast is the point.
Genesis 38 interrupts the story of Joseph completely. Genesis 39 takes it up again and at once tells of the great temptation he faced. It seems that the shameful story of Judah is told to sharpen our sense of how firmly Joseph stood when a temptation of the same kind came to him. Judah seems to have been one of the better behaved sons of Jacob. Yet the habits that marked him and his family were evil, and clearly treated as nothing unusual.
These three sons are the first generation of Judah's household, and the line of Christ runs through that household. One writer sees an enemy at work behind what follows.
This passage gives us the first crisis over who will carry on Judah's line. We know that our Lord came from Judah (Matt. 1:3; Heb. 7:14), so we can see Satan pushing his way into these events. His aim was always to hinder the coming and work of the Messiah.
The family that begins in this verse ends the chapter in open shame. Yet Christ came through it.
The chapter needs few words to press home its proof of how low Judah had sunk morally... And notice that it was not Reuben or any other head of a tribe, but Judah, who proposed selling Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil that brought curse after curse. In the end the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar, who was more righteous than he was — though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
- Departure. Judah left his brothers and married among the Canaanites. The three sons here are the fruit of that move.
- Enmity, iniquity, sprout. The names run downhill, then turn up: two sons under God's wrath, and a third who speaks of resurrection and a remnant preserved.
- Chezib. The Bible names the birthplace on purpose. Chezib means "false," and one writer makes it part of the picture, not a stray detail.
- Threat. Judah's household carries the line of Christ, and one writer sees Satan behind this first crisis over who will carry it on.
- Grace. From this exact family — guilty Judah, and later Tamar — came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
And Judah took a wife for Er his firstborn, and her name was Tamar.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph to follow Judah, who has settled among the Canaanites. Verse 6 looks like a small family detail: a father chooses a wife for his eldest son. It opens a chapter of failure, and out of that failure God draws the family line of the Messiah.
Judah chose the bride himself. One writer sets that choice beside how Abraham, Isaac and Jacob handled marriage with the Canaanites.
It would seem that Tamar, the daughter-in-law of Judah, was a daughter of the Canaanites, like her mother-in-law. Abraham had been most careful about the choice of a wife for Isaac; she was not to be a daughter of the Canaanites. But Isaac plainly did not step in when Esau took wives from the daughters of the Hittites, though they caused him grief. Isaac charged Jacob not to take a wife from the daughters of Canaan. Yet Jacob does not seem to have been troubled when Judah joined himself to the Canaanites through Shuah, or when he took Tamar to be the wife of his eldest son, Er. There is much instruction for Christians in all this: how very careful we should be about our associations, both for ourselves and for our children.
The verse names Er as the firstborn. What he became had much to do with the father who raised him.
Er was the firstborn of Judah's strength. His father named him, and his name may mean "watchful." Er, it seems, became watchful for chances to do evil… Er deceived himself. But was he not simply following his father? To bring up children in an evil world is not easy. When parents introduce their children to the things of this present evil age, they will find them throwing themselves into it with great energy. And that world lies in ruin, far from God.
Marriage to the firstborn put Tamar in line to carry on Judah's family. Judah later took that right from her.
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He kept that right from her, and in doing so blamed her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's favouritism toward his own family blinded him to the truth… Many people today let family ties sway their judgment in important matters.
Why is this chapter placed here at all? One writer sees a deliberate contrast: two men, the same temptation.
Genesis 38 completely interrupts the story of Joseph. It would seem that the shameful story of Judah is told here to heighten in our minds the way Joseph stood firm under a temptation of the same kind. Judah appears to have been among the better behaved of Jacob's sons. Yet the practices that marked him and his family were evil, and it seems they were accepted as nothing very unusual.
This is the same Judah who had sold Joseph. Yet God's line to the Messiah ran straight through his house.
It was Judah, not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse on curse. In the end he had to admit the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself, though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet by this guilty Judah, and by Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood, and will reign over the universe to God's glory.
Matthew's record of Christ's ancestry names four women, and Tamar comes first. Each of the four carries a different note, and Tamar's note is not her goodness.
With Tamar it is her sin that stands out, as with Rahab it is her faith. For Ruth to come in, the sentence of the law has to be set aside. And Bathsheba shows us grace winning even over a believer's sin. A salvation for sinners. A salvation by faith. A salvation from the sentence of the law. An eternal salvation. This is what the simple placing of these names declares… Tamar's sin alone brought her into the Lord's genealogy, and God has taken pains to record, doubly record, this striking fact. In the same way, simply as sinners, we have the right to rejoice in a work done for the need of sinners.
- Choice. Judah picked Tamar for Er, forgetting the care Abraham took over Isaac's marriage. The warning is for our own friendships and our children's.
- Consequence. The son named "watchful" grew watchful for evil, and writers trace that back to the father who raised him in it.
- Claim. The marriage gave Tamar a real right: to be the mother of Judah's heir. Judah's favouritism toward his own sons later took it from her.
- Contrast. The chapter interrupts Joseph's story on purpose. Two men met a similar temptation, and only Joseph stood.
- Conclusion. Through this guilty Judah and this Tamar came the One who cleanses from all sin. Her sin, not her goodness, put her name in Christ's family line — and that is the sinner's own right to rejoice.
And Er, Judah's firstborn, was wicked in the sight of Jehovah, and Jehovah slew him.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph to show what was happening in Judah's own home, and verse 7 is the first blow to fall there. Judah's eldest son dies by a direct act of God — and this is the family line that would give Israel her kings.
Er's life begins with his father's choice of a wife from Canaan. One writer sets Judah beside Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and finds him the worst of the four:
Judah does not guard his household against evil beforehand, as Abraham did. He does not grieve over evil once it has come in, as Isaac did. He is not even careless about it, whether it comes in or not, like Jacob. He brings it in himself! He does nothing less than take a daughter of the Canaanites to be the wife of his son Er!
Er's death is one item in a longer list. Another writer sets out Judah's whole record:
He sold his brother, he deceived his father, he married a Canaanite wife, he had both his sons killed by the Lord for wickedness, he deceived his daughter-in-law when promising his son Shelah to her, then had two sons by the same daughter-in-law (unwittingly).
The name for God in this verse matters. Older translations print it as "Jehovah"; the ESV renders it "the LORD." One writer notes how rarely it appears in the rest of Genesis:
The only places where we find "Jehovah" in the rest of the book are in Judah's case, chapter 38:7-10, where you can see that these are His special ways and His government; and with Joseph sold and in trial, chapter 39.
The same name marks two opposite outcomes in two neighbouring chapters:
The name "Jehovah," not just "God," stands out in both chapters. In Genesis 38 He judges the open breaking of His will. In Genesis 39 He makes the man prosper who sought to please Him, and that in the hardest circumstances — first as a slave, then as a prisoner.
Scripture never tells us what Er did. It tells us who saw it, and how fast God settled the account:
Er was the firstborn of Judah's strength. His father named him, and the meaning of his name may be "watchful." Er clearly became watchful for chances to do evil. He thought his sins would have no consequences. But the biblical principle in Galatians 6:7 holds good for all time: "God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap." Jehovah saw his wickedness, and he reaped what his actions deserved. Pay-day came fast for him: "and the LORD put him to death."
The same writer turns the warning toward the parents:
Er deceived himself. But was he not simply following his father? … When parents introduce their children to the things of this present evil age, they will find them throwing themselves with full energy into the world, in all its ruin and turning away from God.
The names of Judah's three sons carry meanings, and one writer reads God's dealings in them:
Yet his line still goes on in the earth. God's wrath rests on the first two sons, whose names speak — Er of "enmity," and Onan of "iniquity" — while the third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of the divine power of resurrection, which brings out of death. So a remnant is preserved.
Commentators differ on what Er's name means: one takes it as "watchful," another as "enmity."
God's judgment here is not the last word over this family. The line He strikes is the line that reaches the King of kings:
Judah was about to become not only the royal tribe above all others, but the ancestor of the King of kings. Yet he takes for himself, without any reverence, a daughter of Canaan. No wonder that wickedness killed his firstborn, and disgraceful sin his brother… Such is man, and such is Judah; but such too is God. Where terrible sin abounded, grace abounded far more.
- Sown — Judah married into Canaan, and he picked a Canaanite wife for his son. The evil judged in verse 7 grew in soil his father prepared.
- Seen — Scripture never describes Er's sin. It only tells us who saw it: he was wicked "in the sight of the LORD," and what a man sows he reaps.
- Named — Genesis rarely uses the covenant name in these closing chapters. Here it marks Er's death as God's own government at work, not bad luck.
- Spared — God cuts off enmity and iniquity in the two elder sons. He leaves the third, "sprout," alive: a remnant kept out of death.
- Surpassed — God judged this family, and from this family came the King of kings. Where sin abounded, grace abounded far more.
Then Judah said to Onan, Go in to thy brother's wife, and fulfil to her the brother-in-law's duty, and raise up seed to thy brother.
Judah tells his second son to marry his dead brother's widow and father a child in the dead brother's name. Two questions follow: what duty was Judah calling on, and why did refusing it displease God so deeply?
Judah was not inventing a family arrangement. He was calling on a known custom.
One marked exception was needed to keep up tribal inheritance in Israel. It existed elsewhere, but it applied to no other people as it did to them, and still less to a Christian: a Levirate, or brother-in-law, marriage. It came into force when a man died childless. Then his brother or next of kin was called to raise up offspring for the dead man. The aim was to hold the family line and the inheritance together. If the nearer kinsman refused, the widow had the right to take off his shoe in public and spit in his face.
More than property was at stake.
The law made a merciful provision (Deut. 25:5-10): no man's family should die out while a brother lived to carry on the line. In Israel, to be childless was a disgrace. If a man's name was blotted out — his family dying out — people saw it as a special mark of God's displeasure... In His provision there seems, too, to be a recognition of that hope in the heart of every Hebrew woman: that through her the promise of "the woman's seed" might somehow be fulfilled. This came true literally in the family line kept alive through Ruth.
Judah is giving orders about a marriage. His own marriage had already broken with what his family stood for.
Judah had no regard for the ancient landmark set up by Abraham, who said, "you shall not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites" (Gen. 24:3)... The way he chose his wife is suggested by the phrase "And Judah saw," much the same as Samson in later years... There was no thought of making a choice according to the mind of God.
Onan obeyed the letter of his father's command and refused its whole purpose.
Onan married Tamar but then refused to grant her the privilege of being the mother of Judah's heir. He was prepared to marry her and enjoy conjugal relations, but he wanted to hold back his strength. The sin that is so displeasing to God in Onan's case was not simply spilling his seed on the ground, but selfishness. He wanted her to remain a childless and despised widow, and his whole attitude was governed by this. It was not a single sin but a repeated one, for the word "when" in verse 9 should read "whenever."
Judah's line survives this chapter. Some writers find that outcome written into the meaning of his three sons' names.
His seed still continues on the earth, even though God's wrath rests on the first two sons. Their names speak: Er of "enmity," and Onan of "iniquity." The third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of divine power in resurrection, bringing life out of death. So a remnant is preserved.
The line Onan refused to continue went on anyway. The New Testament does not hide where it led.
"It is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah" (Heb. 7:14). But how? "Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar" (Matt. 1:3). This is especially striking. God, in His great grace, rises above the sin and folly of man to bring about His own purposes of love and mercy... How plain it is that when we reach the close of the first chapter of Matthew, it is "God manifest in the flesh" we find. Man could never have devised such a genealogy.
- Duty. The command was a levirate marriage. When a man died childless, his brother fathered a child to keep the dead man's name and inheritance alive in Israel.
- Dread. Israel saw a blotted-out name as a mark of God's displeasure. Every Hebrew woman's hope of childbearing touched the promise of "the woman's seed."
- Descent. Judah had already chosen his own wife by sight, with no thought of choosing according to the mind of God.
- Denial. Onan took the marriage and refused the child. God judged his selfishness — a sin he repeated, not a single lapse.
- Deliverance. The line two sons could not continue ran on to Christ — a genealogy naming Tamar that no man would have designed.
But when Onan knew that the seed should not be his own, it came to pass when he went in to his brother's wife, that he spilled [it] on the ground, in order to give no seed to his brother.
Genesis 38 pauses the story of Joseph and turns to Judah's family. Verse 9 shows a man taking his brother's widow while making sure she would never bear his brother's heir. The act looks technical. Commentators look behind it to the motive, and to why the Lord answered it with death.
Behind the verse stands a custom that later became law in Israel. Its aim was not private happiness but the survival of a family line and its land.
One marked exception was needed to keep up tribal inheritance in Israel: a levirate, or brother-in-law, marriage. It existed elsewhere too, but it applied to no other people as it did to Israel, and still less to a Christian. It was used when a man died childless. His brother or next of kin then had to raise up a child for the dead man. The aim was to bind up the family line and the inheritance. This mattered so much that if the nearer kinsman refused, the widow had the right to take off his shoe in public and spit in his face.
What was at stake for the widow and the dead man was more than property.
The law made a merciful provision: no man's family should die out while a brother was still alive to carry on the line. In Israel, to be childless was a disgrace. For a man's name to be blotted out — his family dying out — counted as a special mark of God's displeasure.
The verse itself gives the motive: Onan knew the child would not count as his. One writer names the sin behind that, and reads verse 9 as "whenever," not "when" — a habit, not one lapse.
Onan married Tamar but then refused to grant her the privilege of being the mother of Judah's heir. He was prepared to marry her and enjoy the relationship, but he wanted to hold back from giving of his strength. In Onan's case, the sin that is so displeasing to God was not simply spilling his seed on the ground. It was selfishness. He wanted her to stay a childless and despised widow, and that desire ruled his whole attitude. It was not a single sin but a repeated one, for the word "when" in verse 9 should read "whenever."
Another writer calls it a broken agreement.
Onan, the second son, agreed to take Er's widow as his wife so as to have a child who would count as his brother's. But he did not honour his side of the agreement, and the Lord considered this serious enough to kill him too. The reason was his complete selfishness: the child would not count as his own, though in fact it would be.
Genesis names God in two ways, and the difference matters. One writer marks where the name "Jehovah" appears in the book.
In the rest of the book, "Jehovah" appears in only three places. The first is Judah's case, chapter 38:7-10, where one sees His special ways and His government. The second is Joseph sold and in trial, chapter 39. The third is Jacob's waiting for His salvation. We often get "God" — His dealings as ruling all things, in contrast with men.
This is the family through whom the Messiah would come, and the chapter opens a crisis over who will carry that line forward.
This passage gives us the first crisis of succession in Judah. We know that our Lord came from Judah, so we can see Satan breaking into the situation. His aim was always to hinder the coming and work of the Messiah.
One writer asks why this chapter breaks into the story of Joseph at all.
It seems the sorry story of Judah is told to bring out all the more how Joseph stood firm under a temptation of the same kind. Judah appears to have been among the better behaved of Jacob's sons. Yet the practices that marked him and his family were evil, and clearly accepted as nothing unusual.
Onan refused to raise up his brother's line. It came anyway, and Scripture kept the record of the failure.
Tamar's sin was the very thing that brought her into the Lord's genealogy. And it is simply as sinners that we have the right to rejoice in a work done for sinners. In a day that is near, Judah will find his right standing not in legal righteousness, and not in mere descent from Abraham, but in the truth that God has stressed for us here.
- Duty. The custom protected two things: a dead man's name and inheritance, and his widow's hope of a child.
- Withholding. Onan took the marriage and refused the duty. Commentators put the offence in his selfishness, and in a habit he kept repeating.
- Government. The chapter uses God's covenant name, Jehovah. These deaths were His own direct dealing with Judah's line.
- Design. The Messiah would come through this line. Onan refused the very heir it needed, and Satan's hand was behind the crisis.
- Grace. The line survived. Tamar's name stands in the Lord's genealogy, sin and all, so that sinners may rejoice in a work done for sinners.
And the thing which he did was evil in the sight of Jehovah, and he slew him also.
This is the second death in Judah's family, and Genesis marks it with the name "the LORD." Two questions follow. What was so evil in what Onan did? And why does this dark story sit inside the family line that leads to the Messiah?
The act described in verse 9 was not the whole offence. Onan took the marriage and refused the duty that came with it.
Onan married Tamar, but then refused to grant her the privilege of being the mother of Judah's heir. He was prepared to marry her and enjoy relations with her, but he wanted to hold back his strength. In Onan's case, the sin that so displeases God was not simply spilling his seed on the ground. It was selfishness. He wanted her to stay a childless and despised widow, and that desire drove everything he did. It was not a single sin but a repeated one, for the word "when" in verse 9 should read "whenever."
Another writer frames it as an agreement made and then broken:
He did not keep his side of the agreement, and the Lord considered this serious enough to kill him too. The reason was his complete selfishness: the child would not count as his own, even though it really would be.
Which name for God the text uses matters here. Genesis does not simply say "God." It uses "the LORD" — Jehovah.
In the rest of the book, the name "Jehovah" is used in only a few places. One is Judah's case, chapter 38:7-10, where you can see that these are His own special ways and His government. Another is Joseph sold and in trial, chapter 39. Another is after Dan, where Jacob waits for His salvation, chapter 49:18 — the longing of an Israelite for the coming kingdom.
So this death is not bad luck. It is God dealing with Judah's house in His own government.
Onan's death is the second in a row. Judah watched his own household fall apart under God's hand.
Judah could have cried out, "My house is not so with God!" Er, his firstborn, "was wicked in the sight of the LORD, and the LORD put him to death." Then Onan, his second son, rebelled against his father's command, and the Lord killed him too.
Judah had married into Canaan, and the results showed in his sons.
Judah was to be the leading royal tribe and the ancestor of the King of kings. Yet he shamelessly takes a daughter of Canaan for himself. No wonder that wickedness killed his firstborn, and disgrace killed his brother.
Some writers find meaning in the names of Judah's three sons. They read the loss of the first two as a picture of God's dealings with the nation.
Judah's line still continues on the earth, even though God's wrath is on the first two sons. Their names speak of "enmity" (Er) and "iniquity" (Onan). But the third son, Shelah ("sprout"?), speaks of divine power in resurrection, bringing life out of death. In this way God preserves a remnant.
The text itself does not give these meanings. Commentators offer them as a suggestion.
This chapter is one of the ugliest in Genesis, yet God does not abandon Judah. The same story that records two deaths also carries the line that leads to Christ.
Yet from this guilty Judah, and from Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory. That reign goes far beyond all that Joseph pictured, just as He went far lower in humiliation and suffering.
God's answer to this chapter is not to cover it up.
Tamar's name appears in the Lord's genealogy in the gospel of Matthew. Her sin alone brought her there, and God has taken pains to record this striking fact — and to record it twice. In the same way, simply as sinners, we have the right to rejoice in a work done for the need of sinners.
- Selfishness — the sin was not one physical act. It was a settled refusal to give his brother an heir, repeated every time. Verse 9 means "whenever," not "once."
- Seen — the name "the LORD" marks this death. It shows God's own ways and His government at work in Judah's house.
- Sown — Judah married into Canaan, and he reaped the harvest in his sons. What the father allowed, the next generation acted out.
- Spared — two sons are gone, but a third remains. Some read Shelah's name as "sprout": a remnant brought out of death.
- Saved — the line God judged is the line God kept. Tamar's name stands in Christ's genealogy, and it was her sin that brought her there.
And Judah said to Tamar his daughter-in-law, Remain a widow in thy father's house, until Shelah my son is grown; for he said, Lest he die also, as his brethren. And Tamar went and remained in her father's house.
Judah has just buried two sons, and now he speaks to the widow they left behind. His words sound like a promise: a home, a wait, then marriage when his youngest son is grown. But the verse also tells us what he was thinking, and the two do not match.
Judah's arrangement looks like care. In fact it keeps from Tamar what was hers by right, and one writer also finds a flaw in the plan itself:
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He kept that right from her, and in doing so he blamed her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's favouritism towards his own family blinded him to the truth… Many people today let family ties sway their judgment in important matters. Judah's values are twisted. On a practical note, the idea that Shelah could be a husband before he was full grown also goes against the mind of God… Every area of life calls for maturity: physical, mental and emotional. Shelah was much younger than Tamar, and that was not a good recipe for a marriage.
Notice where Judah puts the blame. He fears for Shelah, so he sends Tamar away, and his own sons go unblamed.
Judah's promise had a date on it: "till Shelah my son grows up."
Judah promised Tamar that she could marry Shelah when he was grown, since he was still young. In the meantime he asked her to remain a widow in her father's house. But we shall see that Judah failed to keep his promise, just as the tribe of Judah has done again and again.
Tamar obeyed. She went back to her father's house and stayed there. Her willingness shows what she wanted:
Tamar had the natural desire for children. She was clearly content to wait until Judah's third son was old enough to be her husband. That seemed to show she valued her place in the family of Jacob.
Her patience did not last. Later she took matters into her own hands, and one writer weighs both sides:
Her desire for children was a right one. We can admire how she valued a place in the family where God's Name was known, and the righteous, trusting qualities she showed in her patient waiting as a widow. But we cannot excuse what she did to get what she wanted. It showed a lack of confidence in God, and the sin itself was unnatural… How ready we are by nature to try to get God's blessing in our own way.
Judah's neglect of Tamar is the first of three failures here. All three show up again in a later king:
Judah's failure has features that strongly remind us of David's failure. First, Judah neglected his duty towards Tamar. Second, he indulged the flesh and so badly dishonoured the Name of the Lord. Third, he was quick to pass the death sentence on evil he was guilty of himself. Do we not see these very same features in the failure of King David?
Everything in this chapter runs downhill. Yet the line to the King of kings runs straight through it, and it is not Judah who rescues it:
Judah was to be the royal tribe above all others, and the ancestor of the King of kings. Yet he takes a daughter of Canaan for himself with no regard for God. No wonder wickedness killed his firstborn, and disgraceful conduct his brother. No wonder the widow got no regard from the third son… Such is man, and such Judah; but such too is God. Where terrible sin increased, grace increased far more.
- Right withheld — Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. Judah told her to go home and wait, which looked like care but kept that right from her.
- Blame misplaced — Judah feared for Shelah, so he treated Tamar as the danger. His own sons he did not blame at all.
- Promise broken — Judah never kept the promise he made about Shelah. Writers see in that broken word a pattern the tribe of Judah repeated.
- Waiting misused — We can admire Tamar's waiting and how she valued a place in Jacob's family. Her later scheme has no excuse, since it showed a lack of confidence in God.
- Grace exceeding — The chapter runs downhill from here. Still the line to the King runs through it, because where sin increased, grace increased far more.
And as the days were multiplied, Judah's wife, the daughter of Shua, died. And Judah was comforted, and he went up to his sheep-shearers, to Timnah, he and his friend Hirah the Adullamite.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it was told Tamar, saying, Behold thy father-in-law is going up to Timnah to shear his sheep.
This verse is one line of news, and it turns the whole chapter. Everything before it explains why Tamar listens; everything after it follows from what she does with what she hears.
Judah had left his brothers and settled among the Canaanites. By this point he is deep into that life. One writer reads the opening phrase of the chapter as a signal for everything that follows.
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite (the Merchant) in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the path of departure he took. They warn the reader that what follows will be marked by sin. The consequences of Judah's deliberate departure will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He has to learn that whatever one sows, that will he also reap (Gal. 6:7).
One writer traces the evil in Judah's house back to Judah himself.
The chapter needs few words to prove how low Judah had sunk morally... It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse on curse. In the end the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself, who had sentenced her to die by fire.
The detail about shearing is not filler. Scripture mentions it rarely, and never in a good light.
Only four times in scripture do we read of sheep shearing. First, in Genesis 31:19; second here in Genesis 38:13 (Judah); third in 1 Samuel 25:4 (Nabal); and fourth in 2 Samuel 13:23 (Absalom). In each case, something unpleasantly selfish is involved. Peter was not told by the Lord to "shear My sheep," but "shepherd My sheep" and "feed My sheep" (John 21:16-17).
The local religion also supplied the disguise Tamar would use.
This shameful episode happened at sheep-shearing time, when something is taken from the sheep. To take and leave naked is Satan's work. The practices of the Canaanite religion increased sexual temptation. Ritual sex was part of their fertility magic. It seems Tamar posed as a temple prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into!
Tamar had waited as a widow for the marriage Judah promised her. By the time this news reaches her, the waiting has become a wrong.
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He kept that right from her, in effect blaming her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's prejudice in favour of his own family blinded him to the truth.
So the news of Judah's journey becomes her opening.
Eventually Judah's wife died. Judah was not driven to the feet of the Lord by that loss, but turned to the company of one whom he thought was a prostitute. He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but had not kept his promise. She therefore took matters into her own hands and deceitfully posed as a prostitute to seduce Judah (vv. 13-15).
She is not simply a victim, and not simply a schemer.
Her desire for children was a right one. We can admire the value she put on a place in the family where God's Name was known, and the righteous, trusting spirit shown in her patient waiting as a widow. But her actions to reach that end cannot be excused. She lacked confidence in God, and the sin itself was unnatural... How ready we are by nature to seek God's blessing in our own way.
The astonishing part is where this shameful story leads.
Out of this shameful history it is amazing to think that God has seen fit to bring about wonderful blessing. For Judah, Tamar and Pharez are all recorded in the genealogy of the Lord Jesus in Matthew 1:3. In fact, Tamar is one of only four women mentioned in that genealogy — Tamar, Rahab, Ruth and "the wife of Uriah" (Matt. 1:3-6). But this is meant to impress on us the wonder of God's pure grace, reaching guilty sinners through the gift of His holy, sinless Son!
- Departure. Judah "went down from" his brothers, and the sorrow of this chapter is the harvest of that choice — a man reaps what he sows.
- Season. Sheep-shearing appears only four times in Scripture, and selfishness marks each one — it is the season for taking.
- Broken word. Judah broke his promise and kept Tamar's right from her; favouritism for his own family blinded him.
- Mixed motive. We can admire her longing for a place in the family that knew God; we cannot excuse her deceit — she sought God's blessing her own way.
- Grace. Judah, Tamar and Pharez still stand in the genealogy of Matthew 1:3 — pure grace reaching guilty sinners.
And she put the garments of her widowhood off from her, and covered herself with a veil, and wrapped herself, and sat in the entry of Enaim, which is on the way to Timnah; for she saw that Shelah was grown, and she was not given to him as wife.
Tamar had watched Judah's youngest son grow up, but the promised marriage never came. So she traded her widow's clothes for a veil and sat by the road Judah would travel — the act the whole chapter turns on.
Tamar's action begins with Judah's failure, not her own. He had told her to wait as a widow in her father's house until Shelah was old enough, and then never delivered.
Judah promised Tamar that she could marry Shelah when he was grown up, since Shelah was still young. In the meantime he asked her to stay a widow in her father's house. But we shall see that Judah failed to keep his promise, just as the tribe of Judah has done again and again.
Judah withheld something she had a right to. Then he shifted the blame onto her.
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He withheld this rightful claim from her, and in effect blamed her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's bias towards his own family blinded him to the truth… To make Shelah a husband before he was full grown would also have been contrary to the mind of God. Maturity is assumed in every area of life: physical, mental and emotional. Shelah was much younger than Tamar, and this was not a good recipe for a marriage.
Tamar waits by that road because Judah will travel it. He is on it because of a choice he made at the start of the chapter: he left his brothers for the Canaanites.
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the path of departure he set out on. They warn the reader that sin will mark what follows. The results of Judah's wilful departure will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow.
The disguise she chose came from the culture around her.
The practices of the Canaanite cult increased sexual temptation. Ritual fornication was part of their fertility magic. It seems that Tamar posed as a temple prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into!
She would not wait any longer.
She took matters into her own hands. She used deceit, posing as a prostitute to seduce Judah.
Commentators differ. Some see real value in what she wanted, but refuse to excuse how she got it.
Her desire for children was a right one. We can admire how much she valued a place in the family where God's Name was known. We can admire too the righteous and trusting qualities she showed in her patient waiting as a widow. But we cannot excuse what she did to reach her goal. It showed a lack of confidence in God, and the sin itself was unnatural. Her deceit showed the natural scheming that is only too common among those whom God has brought into a place of privilege.
Others find nothing here to soften. For them the wonder lies elsewhere.
In all this history of Tamar's there is no redeeming feature. She comes before me in this picture as a sinner and nothing else. She was the wife of two men, one after the other, and divine judgment cut off each of them for his wickedness. Yet she herself dares to provoke that same judgment by a crime equal to theirs. But the wonder above all this is that this very sin brings her name into the Lord's genealogy.
This dark chapter is where mercy shows itself.
Tamar's history shows the boundlessness of divine mercy. We see God's own wonderful way of connecting Christ with Judah, and so Tamar is listed in the genealogy recorded in Matthew's Gospel. She is the first of the four women mentioned there, each with her own special place by God's grace.
Grace, not human planning, produced that line.
This is one of those remarkable cases where divine grace triumphs gloriously over man's sin. God, in His great grace, rises above the sin and folly of man to bring about His own purposes of love and mercy… Man could never have devised such a genealogy. It is entirely divine.
- Departure. Judah "went down from" his brothers first; every sorrow in this chapter grows out of that one step away.
- Debt. Judah owed Tamar his son Shelah. He never paid that debt, and he let her carry the blame for his sons' deaths.
- Disguise. She exchanged the widow's clothes for a veil, taking matters into her own hands instead of waiting on God.
- Discernment. Her longing for a place among God's people was right; her scheming to get it was not. Commentators differ on how much credit her patience deserves.
- Design. The one deed with no redeeming feature is the very deed that puts her name in Christ's genealogy. No man could have designed that line.
And Judah saw her, and took her for a harlot; because she had covered her face.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph and follows Judah down a road of his own choosing. Verse 15 is the moment the trap closes. A veiled woman waits by the roadside, and Judah does not know his own daughter-in-law. Two questions press on the reader: what did the disguise mean, and how does God work through a scene like this?
The chapter opens with Judah leaving his brothers. One writer reads the wording of that departure as a warning sign.
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite (the Merchant) in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the course of departure he had set out on. They warn the reader that sin will mark what follows. The consequences of Judah's wilful departure will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He has to learn that whatever one sows, that will he also reap (Gal. 6:7). The heart that has strayed from God is easy prey to the deceit and enticements of men. Anyone who does not walk closely with God will soon walk with the unconverted men of the world.
One writer traces Tamar's disguise back to a promise Judah never kept, and shows what Judah did after his loss.
Eventually Judah's wife died. Judah was not driven to the feet of the Lord by this, but turned to the company of one whom he thought was a prostitute. He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but had not kept his promise. So she took matters into her own hands and deceitfully posed as a prostitute to seduce Judah (vv. 13-15).
Judah took the woman for a prostitute because such women were a normal part of the culture around him.
This sordid event took place at sheep-shearing, the time when something was taken from the sheep. To take and leave naked is Satan's work. The practices of the Canaanite cult increased sexual temptation. Ritual fornication was part of their fertility magic. It seems that Tamar posed as a temple prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into!
Commentators have argued over the Hebrew word used in this chapter for such a woman. One writer sets aside the idea that it named a holy woman.
I doubt that many serious readers will agree with one scholar's notion that the Hebrew word means a holy woman or seer. Far more probable is the ordinary view, which supposes a "consecration" to the corrupt Astarte, or Venus, of early and later idolatry. Terrible to say, prostitution was an almost universal element of heathen holiness!
Later Judah called for Tamar's punishment, though he had drawn her into the sin himself.
What a hypocrite! Judah acts as if he is completely right and blameless, but it is he who has the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble, and now he wants her punished. If I cause another to sin because of my own wickedness, how great then is my responsibility. He has a double standard, which is not acceptable to a holy God. Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burnt, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought this forward as evidence (v. 25), and everyone saw Judah's part in the sin. Tamar is acknowledged to be more righteous than Judah (v. 26).
The story excuses nothing. Yet its names reappear in the opening pages of Matthew's Gospel.
We need not dwell on this. We only note that the Tamar of this chapter is the first of the women listed in the genealogy of our Lord in Matthew 1. Of the four women mentioned, only Ruth had a clean record morally, and she came from an accursed race. Such names would never have appeared in the record without the grace of God — the grace that triumphs over human sin.
We rank sins on a scale God does not use.
In our thoughts, the way of the harlot and the tax collector is worse than the easy, respectable course of the world. If we had the balances of the sanctuary, we would weigh things differently. "What is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God."
- Down — "Went down from his brothers" sets the direction of the chapter. Judah left God's people first; the roadside meeting came later.
- Disguise — Judah broke his promise to give Shelah to Tamar. So she covered her face and posed as a prostitute.
- Defilement — Canaanite religion used ritual fornication in its fertility magic. That was the world Judah had married into.
- Double standard — Judah demanded Tamar's death by fire for a sin he had drawn her into. The pledge in her hand exposed him.
- Deliverance — Tamar stands first among the women in Matthew's genealogy. Her name is there only because the grace of God triumphs over human sin.
And he turned aside to her by the way, and said, Come, I pray thee, let me go in to thee; for he did not know that she was his daughter-in-law. And she said, What wilt thou give me, that thou mayest come in to me?
Judah is travelling to his sheepshearers after his wife's death. He stops for a veiled woman by the road and starts bargaining. He does not know her: she is Tamar, his son's widow. He had promised her to another son and then left her waiting.
This chapter cuts into the story of Joseph. One writer reads that placement as deliberate: Judah's fall stands next to Joseph's stand under a similar test.
Genesis 38 cuts the story of Joseph off completely. Genesis 39 picks it up again and tells at once of the great temptation that faced him. The sad story of Judah seems to be placed here for a reason. It heightens our sense of how firmly Joseph stood under a temptation of the same kind. Judah seems to have been one of the better behaved sons of Jacob. Yet the practices that marked him and his family were evil, and clearly accepted as nothing very unusual.
Tamar is on that road because of a right Judah owed her and held back. One writer also names what blinded him.
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He withheld this legitimate entitlement from her, effectively blaming her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's prejudice in favour of his own family blinded him to the truth... Many today allow the ties of nature to sway their judgment in matters of importance.
Judah had just buried his wife. Grief could have driven him to God. It drove him to a roadside bargain instead.
Judah was not driven to the feet of the Lord by this, but turned to the company of one whom he thought was a prostitute. He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but had not kept his promise. So she took matters into her own hands. She posed as a prostitute to deceive and seduce Judah. He promised to send her a young goat as payment for his immorality. She then demanded security, and he gave her three things that were clearly his own.
Judah later calls Tamar more righteous than himself. But writers do not treat her trap as an act of faith.
Tamar lay in wait for Judah. She may have valued a place in the family that knew the true God. Even so, her action did not spring from faith in God. On a human level, her act was more righteous than Judah's, as he confessed. But morally the two were alike, partners in a serious sin. Behaviour like this might suit Canaanite families. But it was hateful to the holiness of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Three months later the truth came out, and Judah ordered the pregnant woman burned.
What a hypocrite! Judah acts as if he is completely right and without blame, but it is he who has the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble and now he wants her punished. If I cause another to sin because of my own wickedness, how great then is my responsibility... He has a double standard, which is not acceptable to a holy God... A frank confession will secure His mercy.
The strangest turn is what God does with this roadside transaction. Tamar's name appears in the list of Jesus' ancestors. One writer presses the point that it was not her goodness that put it there.
In Tamar's whole story, what strikes me is that there is nothing good in it at all... She comes before me in this picture as a sinner and nothing else. But the wonder above all this is that this very sin brings her name into the Lord's family line. It was this sin that made her the mother of Pharez, one of the direct ancestors of Christ!
The chapter ends with the head of the family admitting he was the guilty one. That admission is where the line to Christ runs on.
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads who proposed the sale of Joseph. It was Judah. And now his own house showed the evil that drew down curse on curse. In the end its head had to own the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself — whom he had sentenced to die by fire. Yet by this guilty Judah, and by Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
- Promise — Judah owed Tamar a husband and held him back to shield his own son. Her plan starts with his broken word.
- Blindness — grief did not turn him to God. He turned aside to a stranger and bargained over the price, not knowing who she was.
- Shared guilt — writers do not make Tamar innocent. She was more righteous than Judah, yet both shared one sin.
- Exposure — the security he handed over was clearly his own. His double standard ended in confession.
- Grace — the very sin that shames him is the link in the line to Christ, who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
And he said, I will send [thee] a kid of the goats from the flock. And she said, Wilt thou give [me] a pledge, until thou send it?
Genesis 38 leaves Joseph's story to follow Judah into a roadside deal with a veiled woman. He does not know she is his own daughter-in-law, and the pledge he gives her will later decide a life.
The verse records a price and a guarantee. One writer retells how the deal came about, and what Judah handed over to seal it:
Judah was not driven to the feet of the Lord by this, but turned to the company of one whom he thought was a prostitute. He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but had not kept his promise. So she took matters into her own hands. She used deceit and posed as a prostitute to seduce Judah. He promised to send her a young goat as payment for his fornication. She demanded some security, and he gave her three things that were clearly his own property.
Her demand for security did not come out of nowhere. Judah already owed her something, and he was holding it back:
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He held back this right that was hers, and in effect blamed her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's prejudice in favour of his own family blinded him to the truth. Many today let family ties sway their judgment in important matters.
Judah had promised her his youngest son, Shelah, and never kept his word. So when he now promises a goat, she asks for something in hand.
The line that leads to the Messiah runs through Judah. That raises the stakes of this roadside bargain:
This passage gives us the first crisis of succession in Judah. We know that our Lord came from Judah. So we can see Satan pushing his way into these events. His design was always to hinder the coming and work of the Messiah. Note that this threatens more than Tamar's security. It threatens her right to become the mother of Judah's heir.
The pledge of verse 17 comes back into the story later. Judah demands Tamar's death, and the pledge is what answers him:
Judah acts as if he is completely right and without blame, but it is he who has the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble, and now he wants her punished. If I cause someone else to sin by my own wickedness, how great my responsibility is... Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burned, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought it forward as evidence, and everyone saw that Judah shared in the sin. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy... Having established righteousness He is now free to show mercy.
The story does not stay a scandal. One writer finds nothing good in Tamar's record at all:
She comes before me in this picture as a sinner and nothing else. She was the wife of two men, one after the other, and divine judgment cut off each of them for his wickedness. Yet she dares in her own person to provoke divine judgment by a crime equal to theirs. But the wonder above all this is that it is this very sin that brings her name into the Lord's genealogy — for it was this sin that made her the mother of Perez, one of the direct line in Christ's ancestry.
Another writer traces the same line from Judah's house to Christ:
It was Judah, not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Then he showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse on curse, until the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar, more righteous than himself, though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood, and who will reign over the universe to God's glory.
- Promise broken. Judah had withheld from Tamar her right to bear his heir; the bargain of verse 17 grows out of a promise he never kept.
- Pledge taken. She would not accept a payment still owed. She asked for security in hand, and Judah handed over three things that were clearly his own.
- Proof produced. The pledge came back as evidence. It exposed the man who was ready to burn her for the sin he had led her into.
- Pardon granted. Judah owned the truth and confessed it. Having established righteousness, God was free to show mercy.
- Line preserved. Through this guilty pair came Perez — and through that line, the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
And he said, What pledge shall I give thee? And she said, Thy signet, and thy lace, and thy staff which is in thy hand. And he gave [it] her, and went in to her; and she conceived by him.
Judah's meeting with Tamar turns on one small deal. He hands over the three things that prove who he is, and three months later they come back as evidence against him.
A signet was a seal. Here is how people carried it and what it did.
Stones with words, letters, or symbols engraved on them. In ancient times people pierced them and hung them from the arm or the neck by a cord or chain, or set them in rings and wore them on the finger. The design was pressed into pieces of clay attached to official documents. In the East people do not treat such documents as genuine unless they are sealed.
So Judah handed over his signature, its cord, and his staff. His whole public identity was now in a stranger's hands.
This verse is one step in a longer slide. Judah's wife had died, and the loss did not turn him back to God.
Judah's wife Shuah died… Judah was not driven to the feet of the Lord by this. Instead he turned to the company of one whom he thought was a prostitute. He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but he had not kept his promise. So Tamar took matters into her own hands. She deceitfully posed as a prostitute to seduce Judah (vv. 13-15). He promised to send her a young goat as payment for his fornication. She demanded some security, and he gave her three things that were plainly his own (v. 18).
The surroundings had shaped him too. He had married into Canaanite life, and that life had its own religious sins.
This shameful event happened at sheep-shearing time, the time when something is taken from the sheep. To take and leave naked is Satan's work. The practices of the Canaanite cult increased sexual temptation. Ritual fornication was part of their fertility magic. It seems that Tamar posed as a temple prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into!
The pledge came back as a witness against the man who gave it. It reached him just as he was passing sentence on someone else.
Judah acts as if he is completely right and blameless. Yet he is the one with the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble, and now he wants her punished. If I cause someone else to sin by my own wickedness, how great is my responsibility… Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burnt. But she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought it forward as evidence (v. 25), and everyone saw Judah's own share in the sin. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy.
The man who had proposed selling Joseph is now the man exposed.
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil which drew down curse on curse. In the end the head of that house had to own the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself, though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
The story of Joseph stops for a chapter, and the contrast is deliberate.
Genesis 38 interrupts the story of Joseph… It seems that Judah's shameful story is told here to sharpen in our minds how firmly Joseph stood under a similar temptation… The Tamar of this chapter is the first of the women named in the genealogy of our Lord in Matthew 1. Of the four women named, only Ruth had a clean record morally, and she came of an accursed race. Such names would never have appeared in the record without the grace of God — the grace that triumphs over human sin.
Tamar wanted something legitimate — a place in the family — but seized it by scheming.
Her desire for children was a right one. We can admire how she valued a place in the family where God's name was known… But her actions to achieve her ends cannot be excused. They showed a lack of confidence in God, and the sin itself was unnatural… How ready we are by nature to try to get God's blessing in our own way.
- Drift. His wife's death did not drive Judah to the Lord. It drove him to a stranger by the roadside.
- Pledge. A signet was an engraved seal on a cord, used to prove a document was genuine. Judah gave away the three things that could only be his.
- Proof. What he gave in the dark came back in daylight as evidence. It reached him while he was condemning another for his own sin.
- Confession. He owned that she was more righteous than himself. A frank confession is where God's mercy meets a person.
- Grace. Tamar's name stands in the genealogy of Christ. Such names stand there only because grace triumphs over human sin.
And she arose and went away; and she laid by her veil from her, and put on the garments of her widowhood.
Genesis 38:19 is the quietest verse in a loud chapter: Tamar changes her clothes and goes home. In one move she hides every trace of the roadside — yet she leaves with a child and with the pledge that will one day name the father.
The clothing she returns to is the mark of a promise Judah never kept. Judah left her waiting for a son he never gave her.
Tamar had the right to be the mother of Judah's heir. He kept this right from her, and in doing so blamed her for the death of his sons. He did not blame his own sons for any wrong. Judah's prejudice in favour of his own family blinded him to the truth.
She takes off more than a roadside disguise. Commentators tie her costume to the religion of the land Judah had settled into.
The practices of the Canaanite religion made sexual temptation stronger. Ritual fornication was part of their fertility magic. It seems that Tamar posed as a temple prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into! Can there be anything so dreadful as this kind of union?
Verse 19 is the move that makes Judah's search fail. His messenger goes back with the payment and finds nobody.
At once she left the area and changed her clothes, going back to her widow's state. Of course, Judah then sent the young goat, expecting to get back the pledge he had left. But his messenger could not find the prostitute. He was even told that no prostitute had been in that place.
The disguise held for a time, but not for good. Commentators take episodes like this as a warning about secret sin everywhere.
Everything must come to light. The stream may flow for a time underground, but sooner or later it will break out. We may go on for years in a course of secret evil. We may cultivate some unholy principle, indulge some unholy desire, or feed some unholy temper or feeling. But the smouldering flame must break out in the end, and show us the real character of what we have done.
What breaks the case open is the very security Tamar asked for before she changed clothes. She kept the evidence; Judah kept the double standard.
Judah acts as if he is right and free of blame. But it is he who has the greater guilt… Judah is ready to have Tamar burnt, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought it forward as evidence (v. 25), and everyone saw Judah's part in the sin. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy. Tamar is acknowledged as being more righteous than Judah (v. 26)… Having established righteousness He is now free to show mercy.
Under those garments a child was growing, and the line to Christ ran through him. That is why this sordid chapter is not hidden away.
The history of Tamar shows us in God's own marvellous way how Christ comes into connection with Judah. So her name appears in the Lord's genealogy in the gospel of Matthew. It is the first of four women's names there, and their presence shows the grace which has stooped to take up men. Each of these four has its own gospel feature to bring out. The record presses Tamar's sin, as it presses Rahab's faith… Tamar's sin alone brought her into the Lord's genealogy, and God has taken pains to record this striking fact, and to record it twice.
- Withheld. Tamar wore widow's clothes because Judah kept back what he owed her. The garments in verse 19 are the badge of his broken word.
- Disguised. The veil she puts off belonged to the Canaanite shrine. The world Judah married into had reached his own household.
- Concealed. Changing clothes worked for a time. The messenger came back and could find no such woman.
- Exposed. A buried stream surfaces. The pledge she had kept named the man who was ready to burn her.
- Redeemed. The child hidden under those widow's garments carried the line to Christ. Tamar's name stands in His genealogy — proof that grace stoops to take up sinners.
And Judah sent the kid of the goats by the hand of his friend the Adullamite, to receive the pledge from the woman's hand; but he found her not.
Judah owes a young goat for a night with a veiled stranger, and he wants back the personal items he left with her as security. He sends a friend to settle the debt, but the friend comes back empty-handed — so what happens to a sin a man cannot buy his way out of?
Judah wanted a clean, private deal. One writer shows how Tamar had already made that impossible:
She left the area at once and changed her clothes, going back to her widow's dress. So Judah sent the young goat, expecting to get back the pledge he had left. His messenger could not find the prostitute. He was even told that no prostitute had ever been in that place.
The failed payment matters because of what stayed in her hands. The same writer says what she asked for, and what Judah handed over:
He promised to send her a young goat as payment for his immorality. She asked for some security, and he gave her three things that were clearly his own property. From that one occasion she conceived a child.
Judah does not go himself. He sends his friend from Adullam. One writer traces the trouble back a step further, to the day Judah left his brothers:
It is sad to watch Judah leave the relative safety and enjoyment of his brothers' company. His heart was already far from the joy of communion with his father. Now he takes this further step and leaves his brothers. We have seen this often with people whose hearts have grown cold. In time their feet follow where their minds already lean. A heart that has wandered from God is easy prey to the deceit and pressure of men. Someone who does not walk in fellowship with God will soon walk in friendship with the unconverted people of the world. In verse 1 we see that Judah must have had common interests with Hirah. In verse 12 he is called "his friend Hirah the Adullamite." James tells us that friendship with the world is enmity with God (James 4:4), but a man set on doing his own will had no room for such thoughts.
One writer reads the whole chapter under a single rule, and Judah's private dealings do not escape it:
Judah chose to walk away, and the consequences will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He has to learn that whatever one sows, that will he also reap (Galatians 6:7).
Judah's plan depended on nobody knowing. One writer answers that hope from Scripture:
God knows your most secret sin... Look into the word. You will find that God has usually shamed in this world those who counted most on secrecy in their sinning.
The items Judah could not recover come back later as evidence against him:
Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burnt, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brings it forward as evidence, and everyone can see Judah's share in the sin. This is the way God works. An honest confession will secure His mercy.
Writers do not soften the chapter. They point instead to what God did with it:
Judah, the head of the tribe, had to admit the sad shame of Tamar. She was more righteous than he was, and he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory.
Another writer finds nothing admirable in Tamar at all, and still marvels at what came of it:
She comes before me in this picture as a sinner and nothing else... But the wonder above all this is that this very sin brings her name into the Lord's genealogy. This sin made her the mother of Perez, one of the direct line in Christ's ancestry.
- Sowing. Judah left his brothers for other company. Every step that follows falls under one rule: a man cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow.
- Security. Tamar asked for security, and Judah handed over three items that were clearly his own. The debt could never be paid off in secret.
- Secrecy. The goat goes out with a friend and comes back unused. God has usually shamed those who counted most on secrecy in their sinning.
- Surrender. Tamar produces the pledge, and everyone sees Judah's part. An honest confession is what secures God's mercy.
- Sovereign grace. Through this guilty man and this woman came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. The very sin recorded here brings Tamar's name into Christ's family line.
And he asked the men of her place, saying, Where is the prostitute that was at Enaim, by the way-side? And they said, There was no prostitute here.
Judah's friend goes back to pay the debt and collect the pledge, but the woman has vanished. The men of the place say no woman like that was ever there, and what Judah left as security stays in someone else's hands.
The chapter opens with Judah leaving his brothers. Writers trace the whole sorry story back to that step.
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the path of departure he set out on. They warn the reader that sin will mark what follows. The consequences of Judah's wilful departure will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow.
The ESV calls her a cult prostitute, not simply a prostitute. That word belongs to Canaanite worship.
The practices of the Canaanite cult increased sexual temptation. Ritual fornication was part of their fertility magic. It seems that Tamar posed as a temple or cult prostitute. Such was the world that Judah had married into!
Why did Tamar do this at all? The answer goes back to a promise Judah never kept.
He had promised to give his youngest son Shelah to Tamar, but had not kept his promise. She therefore took matters into her own hands and deceitfully posed as a prostitute to seduce Judah. He promised to send her a young goat as payment. She demanded some security, and he gave her three things that were unmistakably his own. From that one occasion she conceived a child. She left the area at once and changed her clothes, going back to her state as a widow. Then Judah sent the young goat, expecting to get back the pledge he had left. His messenger could not find the prostitute, and the men there told him that no prostitute had ever been in that place.
Judah wanted this buried. It did not stay buried, and one writer turns the warning on the reader.
How bad it is to try to cover up sin! God says, "Be sure your sin will find you out." But you must thank God if He makes your sin find you out now. If not, it will find you out when you stand before God's judgment throne. God says, "Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy" (Proverbs 28:13).
Later the evidence surfaces. Judah then demands a death sentence for the sin he committed himself.
What a hypocrite! Judah acts as if he is completely right and without blame, but it is he who has the greater guilt... Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burned, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought it forward in evidence, and everyone could see Judah's share in the sin. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy.
Judah later admits Tamar was more righteous than he was. Commentators are careful not to let that admission turn her scheme into faith.
She did value a place in the family where the true God was known. But her plan to trap Judah on the road did not spring from faith in God. Humanly speaking, her act was more righteous than Judah's, as he admitted. Yet morally they were alike — partners in a grievous sin. Conduct like this might suit the families of the Canaanites. But it was hateful to the holiness of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
The child conceived in this squalid encounter becomes an ancestor of Christ.
She comes before me in this picture as a sinner and nothing else. She had been the wife of two men in turn, each cut off by God's judgment for his wickedness. Yet she dared to provoke the same judgment herself. But the wonder above all this is that this very sin brings her name into the Lord's genealogy. This sin made her the mother of Perez, who stands in the direct line of Christ's ancestry.
Matthew's opening chapter names Tamar, and then Bathsheba, without embarrassment.
The Spirit of God is leading us along the line through which Christ came, and He gives us, as links in the chain, Tamar and Bathsheba!... Man could never have devised such a genealogy. It is entirely divine. No spiritual person can read it without seeing in it a blessed display of divine grace.
- Departure. Judah went down from his brothers. He could not please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow.
- Disguise. Tamar posed as a cult prostitute — the religion of the world Judah had married into.
- Discovery. Judah sends the goat, the woman is gone, his pledge stays out. Sin kept quiet is not sin cancelled.
- Double standard. Judah demands Tamar's death for his own offence; commentators call both of them partners in one grievous sin.
- Divine grace. The very sin that shames Judah puts Tamar's name in Christ's genealogy — a line no man would have designed.
And he returned to Judah, and said, I have not found her; and also the men of the place said, No prostitute has been here.
Judah's friend comes back empty-handed, and the townsmen say no such woman was ever there. The errand was meant to settle a debt quietly and recover what Judah had left as security.
This errand belongs to a road Judah took earlier in the chapter. One writer reads the chapter's opening words as a warning sign:
Judah leaves his brothers to join the world of the Canaanite (the Merchant) in all its ruined character. The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the course of departure he began. They alert the reader that sin will mark what follows. The consequences of Judah's wilful departure will be serious. He will have to learn that he cannot please himself without reaping a harvest of sorrow. He has to learn that "whatever one sows, that will he also reap" (Gal. 6:7).
The young goat was the agreed price, and sending it was Judah's way of closing the account and getting his personal items back. The plain sense of what happened is stated simply:
Of course when Judah sent the young goat, expecting to get back the pledge he had left, the messenger was not only unable to find the prostitute, but was told that no prostitute had even been in that place.
The men of the place give Judah a clean public record — nothing happened here, nobody saw anything. That is exactly the kind of cover that cannot hold, because God has other witnesses:
God knows your most secret sin: "You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence" (Ps. 90:8)... The word tells you of an informer you carry in your own heart: conscience. It goes along with you, and it witnesses all your carefully laid plots. What it sees, it writes down, for it is a court of record... Consult the word. You will find that God has usually put to shame in this world those who promised themselves the most secrecy in their sinning.
Judah's anxiety at this moment is about reputation, not about God. That instinct is as old as Eden:
Shame merely drives them to hide from God and to make excuses to Him. And so with ourselves: as long as the shame of sin continues, we try to hide it, to get away from it, but it only drives us farther and farther from God. It is not a conscience taught by God, because we are more concerned about the shame before men than the sinfulness before God.
The goat was never delivered, so the pledge stays in Tamar's hands. Later she produces it:
Judah's pretended virtue is about to be exposed by what happens next... He has a double standard, which is not acceptable to a holy God. Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burned, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought this forward as evidence (v. 25), and Judah's part in the sin was made plain to everyone. This is the way God works. An honest confession will secure His mercy.
Judah is at his worst here. Yet that is not where the story ends:
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own household the evil that drew down curse upon curse. In the end the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar. She was more righteous than he was, and he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory.
- Departure. The failed errand is fruit, not root. Judah "went down from" his brothers, and a man reaps what he sows.
- Concealment. Judah's aim is a quiet settlement — goat delivered, pledge returned, no trace left.
- Denial. The townsmen's "no one was here" closes the case before men, but conscience keeps a record God will read out.
- Exposure. The debt was never paid, so the pledge stayed with Tamar. It became the evidence that stripped away Judah's pretended virtue.
- Mercy. Honest confession is where God meets a guilty man. And from this very line came the One whose blood cleanses from all sin.
Then Judah said, Let her take [it] for herself, lest we be put to shame. Behold, I sent this kid, and thou hast not found her.
Judah has left three personal items as a pledge with a woman he took for a prostitute, and the friend sent to redeem them cannot find her. He drops the search rather than be laughed at, which raises the question of the verse: is Judah troubled by the sin, or only by the shame?
Judah's worry is that people will laugh. What he does not say is that he has done wrong. Commentators separate these two reactions, and trace the difference back to the first people in the Bible who hid:
Shame only drives Adam and Eve to hide from God and to make excuses to Him. It is the same with us. As long as the shame of sin lasts, we try to hide it and escape it. But it only drives us farther and farther from God. That is not a conscience taught by God, because we care more about the shame in front of people than about the sinfulness before God... our sense of the guilt of sin should always be deeper than our sense of its shame.
The young goat was meant to buy back the signet, the cord and the staff. Judah would rather lose them than be laughed at. But the pledge he abandons is the very thing that will convict him:
Judah's pretended virtue is about to be exposed by the subsequent events... Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burnt, but she had secured a pledge from him. This she now brought forward in evidence (v. 25) and Judah's complicity in the sin is manifested before all. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy.
Judah counts on the matter staying between himself, his friend, and a woman nobody can locate. Writers on secret sin note that those most sure of secrecy are the ones God exposes:
God knows your most secret sin: "You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence" (Psalm 90:8)... You have an informer in your own heart — your conscience. It goes along with you and witnesses every plot you lay. What it sees, it writes down, for it is a court of record... Look into the word. You will find that God has usually shamed in this world the very people who counted most on secrecy in their sinning.
The man sent with the goat is Hirah of Adullam, the friend Judah made after leaving his brothers. Needing a friend to cover his tracks fits the road the chapter opened with:
The actual words of Scripture, "went down from," show the path of departure he had set out on. They warn the reader that sin will mark what follows... The heart astray from God is a ready prey to the deceit and incitements of men. Someone not walking in communion with God will soon walk in fellowship with unconverted people of the world.
The chapter cuts away from the story of Joseph. Commentators see the placing as deliberate, and they point out where Tamar's name later appears:
It seems we have the sad story of Judah told here to heighten in our minds the way Joseph stood firm under a temptation of the same kind... the Tamar of this chapter is the first of the women mentioned in the genealogy of our Lord, recounted in Matthew 1. Of the four women mentioned, only Ruth had a clean record from the moral point of view, and she came from a nation under a curse. Such names would never have appeared in the record had it not been for the grace of God — the grace that triumphs over human sin.
Judah is hushing up a sordid night. Through it God is carrying forward the line of the Messiah:
How shocking that she claimed her right in such a shameless and incestuous way! How self-righteous Judah was, ready to burn the mother of babies who were his own without his knowing it! And one of those babies is carefully marked out in Messiah's direct line. Such is man, and such Judah; but such too is God. Where heinous sin abounded, grace much more exceeded.
- Departure. "Went down from" set the chapter's direction. A heart far from God soon keeps company that suits it.
- Concealment. Judah fears ridicule, not guilt. That is a conscience measuring itself by people, not by God.
- Exposure. The pledge he lets go becomes the evidence against him. Those who count most on secrecy are the ones God shames.
- Confession. The way out is the one Judah avoids here — an honest admission, which secures God's mercy.
- Grace. Into this very history God writes the family line of Christ. Where sin abounded, grace abounded much more.
And it came to pass about three months after, that it was told Judah, saying, Tamar thy daughter-in-law has committed fornication, and behold, she is also with child by fornication. And Judah said, Bring her forth, that she may be burned.
Judah hears that his widowed daughter-in-law is pregnant. His answer comes in one breath: bring her out and burn her. Three months earlier he had committed the same sin with the same woman. Commentators use this verse to show how harsh a man can be about a sin he shares.
Judah's judgment is instant, and it falls on one person only. One writer points out how selective the verdict is:
Tamar's plan worked as she had wanted. Three months later, someone told Judah that she was pregnant through prostitution (v. 24). He had no hesitation in condemning her, and passed sentence that she should be burned to death. Clearly he never even thought about the man involved in the case. Judah could sin and no one asked a question. Yet for the very same sin he thought Tamar must die!
Judah sits here as the judge. One writer weighs his guilt against Tamar's:
What a hypocrite! Judah acts as if he is completely right and without blame, but it is he who has the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble, and now he wants her punished. If I cause another to sin because of my own wickedness, how great then is my responsibility. Judah is the one who started these sins, and now he places all the blame on Tamar… He has a double standard, and a holy God does not accept it. Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burned, but she had taken a pledge from him. She now brings it forward as evidence (v. 25), and Judah's part in the sin is shown to everyone. This is how God works. An honest confession secures His mercy.
Another writer sets Judah beside King David. David also passed a death sentence on a sin he had committed himself:
When Judah heard about Tamar's condition, he said, "Bring her out, and let her be burned." He was quick to pass the harshest sentence on a sin he had shared in himself. So it was with David! Nathan the prophet told the king his story. David's anger blazed against the man in it. He said to Nathan that as the Lord lives, the man who had done this thing must surely die.
This is not a one-off failure in an ancient family; it is what happens to anyone who takes up the judge's seat:
Judging our brother is a very deep-seated tendency in our heart. The Lord forbids it. If we do it anyway, two penalties are sure to follow, as He shows here. First, we ourselves shall come under judgment, and have measured out to us just what we have measured to others. Second, we shall drift into hypocrisy. As soon as we start judging others we become blind to our own defects… The most profitable form of judgment for each of us is self-judgment.
Later Judah admits she was more righteous than he was. That is a comparison, not a verdict of innocence:
Tamar's plan to trap Judah did not come from faith in God. That is true even if she valued a place in the family where the true God was known. On a human level, Tamar's act was more righteous than Judah's, as he confessed. But morally they were the same: partners in a grievous sin. Conduct like this might suit the Canaanite families, but it was hateful to the holy God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It may be hard for us to judge Tamar's true worth. Her desire for children was a right one, but her actions to reach her goal cannot be excused.
Judah is at his worst here. Yet one writer looks at where this family line leads:
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah who proposed the sale of Joseph. In his own house he then showed the evil that drew down curse upon curse. In the end the head of that house had to admit the sad shame of Tamar. She was more righteous than he was, and he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory.
- Sentence. Judah condemns Tamar to burning for a sin he committed himself. He never once thinks of the man involved. God does not accept that double standard.
- Cause. He is not just as guilty as Tamar. He is the one who caused her to stumble, so the greater responsibility is his.
- Blindness. The moment we take the judge's seat we lose sight of our own faults; the only safe judgment is self-judgment.
- Exposure. Tamar produces the pledge she had taken, and the accuser becomes the accused. Judah's own part in the sin comes out in front of everyone. Honest confession is what secures God's mercy.
- Grace. From this guilty man and this guilty woman came the One whose blood cleanses from all sin. He will reign over the universe to God's glory.
When she was brought forth, she sent to her father-in-law, saying, By the man to whom these [belong] am I with child; and she said, Acknowledge, I pray thee, whose are this signet, and this lace, and this staff.
Judah has sentenced Tamar to death by fire. As they lead her out, she sends him three objects and asks him to name their owner: the judge now holds proof of his own guilt.
Commentators explain what the word translated "cord" means here:
In Genesis 38:18, 25 the Hebrew word means "cord," and it was probably the cord by which the signet was hung.
Tamar had asked for these at the moment of the transaction, knowing what a day like this might require.
When he promised to send her a young goat as payment for his fornication, she demanded some security, and he gave her three things that were unmistakably his property (v. 18). From this one occasion she conceived a child.
Judah had passed sentence in the previous verse without a moment's hesitation, and without asking who the other party was.
He had no hesitation in condemning her, and passed sentence that she should be burned to death. Evidently he never even thought of the man who was involved in the case. Judah could sin without any question being raised, but he considered that for the very same sin Tamar must be killed!
Judah's own pledge now comes back as evidence against him.
What a hypocrite! Judah acts as if he is completely right and without blame, but it is he who has the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble and now he wants her punished… God's Spirit will say, as to his great heir David, "You are the man" (2 Sam. 12:7). He has a double standard, which is not acceptable to a holy God. Judah is ready to condemn Tamar to be burned, but she had secured a pledge from him. She now brought it forward in evidence (v. 25), and it showed Judah's part in the sin before all. This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy.
Judah's admission in the next verse has been used to explain a New Testament phrase, and the comparison sets its limits. Writing on the tax collector who went home justified, one writer draws the line carefully:
The sense here is not absolute but comparative justification, just as in Judah's expression in the Greek version of Genesis 38:26: "Tamar is justified rather than I" (that is, more righteous).
Commentators differ on how much credit Judah's words deserve. One reads them as the first sign of a real change: "when Judah exclaimed, 'She is more righteous than I,' it was the evidence of a divine work in his soul" (An Outline of Sound Words). Another is blunter — "he was more guilty than Tamar, for righteousness was not involved in the matter at all" (L. M. Grant).
Now Judah is the one asked to examine and identify. One commentator sees a pattern in these chapters, writing of Jacob's own deception: "As he measured out, so it was measured to him again. God's government of His people works with great precision" (F. B. Hole). Judah's turn had come:
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now he showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse upon curse. In the end its head had to own the sad shame of Tamar, more righteous than himself — the woman he had sentenced to die by fire.
The chapter is not preserved to shame Judah but because the family line to Christ runs straight through it.
Here divine grace triumphs gloriously over man's sin. "It is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah" (Heb. 7:14). But how? "Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar" (Matt. 1:3)… The Spirit of God is leading us along the line through which, as to the flesh, Christ came, and in doing so He gives us, as links in the genealogical chain, Tamar and Bathsheba! How clear it is that there is nothing of man in this!
- Pledge. The cord, signet and staff were Judah's own property. Tamar took them as security and kept them for this moment.
- Exposure. Judah sentenced Tamar without asking who the man was. Her pledge answered that question in public.
- Confession. Judah hears what David later heard: "You are the man." Commentators note that a frank confession secures God's mercy.
- Comparison. "More righteous than I" is comparison, not the justification taught in Romans. Writers differ on what it shows: a real work in Judah's soul, or only his greater guilt.
- Grace. The man who proposed selling Joseph and sentenced Tamar becomes a link in the family line of Christ. Nothing of man is in that chain.
And Judah acknowledged [them], and said, She is more righteous than I, because I have not given her to Shelah my son. And he knew her again no more.
Genesis 38 pauses the story of Joseph to record a shameful episode in Judah's family. The turning point comes when Judah, who had just ordered Tamar burned, gets back the pledge he had given her. He admits the guilt is his, and he names his own failure: he never gave her to his son Shelah. From that same family came the line that leads to Christ.
Does Judah's sentence mean Tamar stood right before God? One writer answers from the Septuagint, the old Greek translation of the Old Testament.
The sense here is not absolute justification but comparative justification. It is like Judah's words in the Septuagint version of Genesis 38:26: "Tamar is justified rather than I" — that is, more righteous.
Commentators differ over how much credit Judah's words deserve. Another writer thinks the comparison misses the real point.
Judah at least gave her credit for being more righteous than he was (v. 26). But he was in fact more guilty than Tamar, and righteousness was not involved in the matter at all.
Judah was ready to burn Tamar for a sin he shared. The pledge she produced ended the pretence.
Judah acts as if he is right and without blame. But he is the one with the greater guilt. It was he who caused Tamar to stumble and now he wants her punished... Judah was the prime mover in these sins and now he places all the blame on Tamar... He has a double standard, which is not acceptable to a holy God.
The same thing happened later in David. One writer sets the two men side by side.
When Judah was told of Tamar's condition, he said, "Bring her out, and let her be burned." He was quick to pronounce the most severe sentence against a sin he had taken part in himself. So it was with David! When Nathan the prophet told him his parable, David burned with anger against the man in the story, and he swore to Nathan that the man who had done this must die.
Judah does not argue, shift the blame, or bury the evidence. The verse adds that he never went near Tamar again. One writer sees more than shame in that confession.
When Judah exclaimed, "She is more righteous than I," we cannot doubt it was the evidence of a divine work in his soul. The precious fruit of that work came out later in his words to his father and to Joseph.
Another writer draws out what God does with such an admission.
This is the way God works. A frank confession will secure His mercy... Having established righteousness, He is now free to show mercy.
Judah's own house bred the evil that shamed him. One writer traces what God still brought out of it.
It was not Reuben or any other of the tribal heads, but Judah, who proposed the sale of Joseph. Now his own house showed the evil which drew down curse on curse. In the end its head had to own the sad shame of Tamar — more righteous than himself, though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet by this guilty Judah, and by Tamar, came He who cleanses from all sin by His blood.
Her name is written into the family record of Jesus. One writer explains why God put it there.
The history of Tamar shows us in God's own marvellous way how Christ comes into connection with Judah, and so her name appears in the Lord's genealogy in the gospel of Matthew... It is Tamar's sin that is insisted on... Tamar's sin alone brought her into the Lord's genealogy, and God has taken pains to record it, and to record it twice. In the same way, simply as sinners, we have a title to rejoice in a work done for the need of sinners. Judah shall find in a coming day his title, not in legal righteousness, nor in descent from Abraham, but in what God has emphasized for us here.
- Compared. Judah's words weigh him against Tamar. They do not say that either of them stood righteous before God.
- Exposed. He was the prime mover in the sin, yet he demanded the harshest sentence on the woman he had wronged. A holy God will not accept that double standard.
- Repeated. David did the same when Nathan told his parable. He condemned in another man the sin he had committed himself.
- Owned. Judah hid nothing and blamed no one. Writers read that confession as the first evidence of God's work in him. It bore fruit in how he later spoke to his father and to Joseph.
- Redeemed. From this guilty man and this shamed woman came the line of Christ. Tamar's name stands in Matthew 1 not for her goodness, but as proof that salvation is for sinners.
And it came to pass at the time of her delivery, that behold, twins were in her womb.
Genesis 38 breaks off the story of Joseph to tell the shameful story of Judah. It ends at a birth. Two children lie in Tamar's womb, and no one could defend the union that made them. So why did God let the line that leads to Christ pass through this door?
The chapter cuts into Joseph's life like an intrusion. One writer explains why it stands here:
Genesis 38 completely interrupts the story of Joseph. In Genesis 39 the story starts again... It seems that we have the shameful story of Judah told to sharpen our sense of how Joseph stood firm under a temptation of the same kind... The Tamar of this chapter is the first of the women named in the genealogy of our Lord in Matthew 1. Of those four women, only Ruth had a clean record morally, and she came from an accursed race. Such names would never have appeared in the record if it were not for the grace of God — the grace that triumphs over human sin.
At this birth the future of a nation lies hidden inside a scandal. One writer pictures it as a vineyard about to be cut down:
Even here grace secures a pledge. Pharez is a second supplanter, one who takes another's place. The hope of Israel is in the womb, and a blessing is in the cluster. Yet it is the cluster of a wild vine, fit to be doomed to the sickle, if sovereign, abounding grace did not say, "Do not destroy it." Isa. 65:8; Matt. 1:3.
The twins are Pharez and Zerah. One name speaks of breaking through, the other of the sunrise, and scarlet marks the scene. One writer sees here a hint of royal rights in the least likely place:
The colour "scarlet" stands for the rights of the Lord to rule. It is both remarkable and instructive to see how the thought of Christ's supremacy runs through Scripture like a "thread of scarlet." This beautiful thought first appears in what may be one of the darkest chapters in the Old Testament, Genesis 38. In dark, sordid circumstances something shows itself that has power to "break through" and to "rise up" — as the names of the twins suggest. This leads at last to the line from which David comes.
Both names bear fruit later in Israel's history, each in its own way:
Pharez, the "breaker forth," breaks out into fruit beyond counting, which fills all the later history of Judah. From him come her kings, and her great King. His twin is Zerah, whose name means the sunrise, and from him come singers later on, such as Ethan, and warriors, such as Shammah, Sibbechai and Maharai, strong defenders of the throne.
The delivery itself repeats a pattern the book of Genesis has already used more than once:
Tamar gave birth to twins. One began to come first, but the other took his place (vv. 27-29). This is another lesson of the first being last and the last first, as with Esau and Jacob, and many others.
The midwife cried out in surprise. One writer sees in the child who pushes past his brother a picture of Christ:
The closing verses (vv. 27-30) of this chapter show how mercy rejoices over judgment... The midwife had seen nothing like this before and exclaims, "What a breach you have made for yourself!" (v. 29 — older translations read, "How have you broken forth?"). But in this way the line to Christ moves forward. Pharez comes out, the second Jacob, one who takes another's place. From him would come the True Inheritor of every blessing. Christ is the righteous One who takes the place of every usurper. He will prevail, and His kingdom will stand for ever.
Tamar's name reaches Matthew's list not in spite of her sin but through it. One writer reads the four women there as a short statement of the gospel:
It is Tamar's sin that brings her in, and Rahab's faith that brings her in. For Ruth to come in, the law's sentence against the Moabites had to be set aside. And Bathsheba — named even as the wife of Uriah — shows us grace triumphing over even a believer's sin. Salvation for sinners, through faith, apart from law, and eternal: this is what the simple placing of these names declares.
One writer sets the guilty father beside his greatest descendant:
Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the whole universe to God's glory. That reign goes far beyond all that Joseph pictured, just as He Himself went far lower in humiliation and suffering.
- Interruption. Judah's story cuts into Joseph's on purpose. His failure makes Joseph's stand under the same temptation shine.
- Hope. Grace spares what looks like a wild vine fit for the sickle, because the hope of Israel lies in that womb.
- Breaking. The twins' names speak of breaking through and rising up. Even in the darkest chapter, the scarlet thread of royal rights shows.
- Reversal. The one who seemed first is not first. Through Pharez the line runs on to David, and then to Christ, the true heir of every blessing.
- Grace. Tamar's sin is the very thing that puts her name in the Lord's family line. Salvation is for sinners, through faith, apart from law.
And it came to pass when she brought forth, that one stretched out [his] hand, and the midwife took it and bound round his hand a scarlet thread, saying, This came out first.
Tamar's twins are born at the close of a shameful chapter in Judah's family. A hand comes out first, the midwife ties a scarlet thread on it — and the birth then overturns what that mark seemed to settle.
The colour of the thread matters. One writer follows scarlet right through Scripture, and shows where the trail starts and where it leads.
The colour "scarlet" stands for the rights of the Lord. It is both striking and instructive to see how the thought of Christ's supremacy runs through Scripture like a "thread of scarlet." This beautiful thought comes in at one of the darkest chapters in the Old Testament, Genesis 38. In dark, sordid circumstances something appears with power to "break through" and "rise up" (as the names of the twins suggest), and it reaches its high point in the family line that David comes from (Ruth 4:18-22).
The child who reached out first was not the child born first. One writer sets this beside a reversal that happens again and again.
Tamar gave birth to twins. One began to come out first, but the other took his place (vv. 27-29). This is another lesson of the first being last and the last first, as in the case of Esau and Jacob, and many others.
The reversal is not an accident. Another writer explains what the firstborn stands for, and why God keeps setting him aside.
God gave special rights to the firstborn son of each family (a double inheritance). Again and again we meet firstborn sons who fail, and their blessing goes to another who has no claim to it. Cain was the firstborn, but Seth took his place. So it was with Ishmael and Isaac, Esau and Jacob, Reuben and Joseph, and others. The underlying principle is clear: the firstborn speaks of man in his natural strength: 'for he is the firstfruits of his vigour' (Deut. 21:17). And this is the point: natural man acting in his own strength always leads to failure. For blessing to come at all, God has to provide the 'second'. Hebrews 10 states the principle plainly: 'He takes away the first that he may establish the second' (v. 9).
Both twins matter. Their names describe what each line became in Judah's later history.
Shelah is fruitful, but Tamar's children far more so. From them Pharez, the "breaker forth," breaks out into a vast fruit that fills the whole later history of Judah. From him come her kings, and her great King. Twin with Pharez comes Zerah, whose name means the [sun] rise, and from him come singers later on, such as Ethan, and warriors such as Shammah, Sibbechai and Maharai, strong defenders of the throne.
The chapter ends in shame. Yet one writer finds mercy in these closing verses, and a line kept alive.
The closing verses (vv. 27-30) of this chapter show how mercy triumphs over judgment. J. G. Bellett wrote of this, "The hope of Israel is in the womb, a blessing is in the cluster. Yet it is truly such a cluster of wild vine as might well be doomed to the sickle, if sovereign, abounding grace did not say, 'Destroy it not' (Isa. 65:8; Matt. 1:3)." The midwife had never seen anything like this, and she cries out, "How have you broken forth?" (v. 29). But in this way the line to Christ is carried on. Pharez comes out, the second Jacob, one who takes another's place. From him would come the True Inheritor of every blessing.
Judah had sentenced Tamar to death, then had to admit she was more in the right than he was. That is the pair God used.
This chapter needs few words to prove how low Judah had sunk… And notice that it was not Reuben or any other head of a tribe, but Judah who proposed selling Joseph. He then showed in his own house the evil that drew down curse after curse, until he himself, the head of that house, had to admit the sad shame of Tamar. She was more righteous than he was, though he had sentenced her to die by fire. Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood and who will reign over the universe to God's glory.
- Thread — A scarlet thread marks the first hand. Writers follow that colour through Scripture as the sign of Christ's right to rule.
- Hand — The child marked as first was not born first. Blessing does not follow birth order.
- Principle — The firstborn stands for man's own strength. That strength fails, so God sets the first aside and establishes the second.
- Names — Pharez means breaking through; Zerah means rising. One line gives Judah her kings, the other her singers and defenders of the throne.
- King — From this guilty pair comes the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign to God's glory.
And it came to pass as he drew back his hand, that behold, his brother came out; and she said, How hast thou broken forth! on thee be the breach! And they called his name Pherez.
Genesis 38 tells one of the darkest family stories in the Bible. It ends with a birth: the twin who should have come second pushes out first. The midwife names him Perez — a breach, a breaking out. That name carries the line of promise all the way to Christ.
By the time these twins arrive, everything in Judah's household has gone wrong. Yet here the family tree of the Messiah continues.
In Judah's history we find the utter wandering and misery of Judah, but in it and out of it comes the genealogy of grace. He marries Canaanite women. Sin is in his family. He commits sexual sin with his own daughter-in-law. Everything had gone wrong. Yet from this sprang the One in whom men would bless themselves. They would say, "May the Lord make your house like the house of Perez, whom Tamar bore to Judah," and "may you act worthily in Ephrathah and be renowned in Bethlehem." Yet of Perez himself it might be said, how have you broken out?
Her words are a question, not a blessing. The ESV reads, "What a breach you have made for yourself!"; older translations render it, "How have you broken forth!"
The midwife had seen nothing like this before and exclaims, "How have you broken out?" (v. 29). But this is how the line to Christ moves forward… We wonder how any good could come out of such a disastrous series of events. But what is impossible with men is not impossible with God. He brings glory to His Name out of the darkest shame.
The breaking out did not stop at the birth.
Shelah is fruitful, but Tamar's children much more so. One of them is Perez, the "breaker forth." He breaks out into a large family that fills all the later history of Judah. From him come her kings, and her great King. His twin is Zerah, whose name means the sunrise. From Zerah come singers later on, such as Ethan, and warriors, such as Shammah, Sibbecai and Maharai — sturdy defenders of the throne.
Judah has already confessed his sin earlier in the chapter. Jacob had taken his older brother's place; so does this child.
Judah is brought to know and confess his sin… and then mercy triumphs over judgment. Perez comes forth, and he is a second Jacob, the supplanter. Despite his elder brother's natural claim, he gets the birthright. The kingdom suffers violence at his hand, and he takes it by force. And from this Perez comes the true Inheritor of the blessing. He is the righteous Supplanter of every usurper. He will prevail, and His kingdom will stand for ever. (Matt. 1:3.)
Matthew's genealogy names four women, and Tamar comes first. The reason is not that her record was better.
The story of Tamar shows us how, in God's marvellous way of grace, Christ comes into connection with Judah. So her name appears in the Lord's genealogy in the Gospel of Matthew. Hers is the first of those four women's names, and their presence there shows the grace that has stooped to take up men… It is Tamar's sin that brings her in, as it is Rahab's faith. For Ruth to come in, the law's sentence about the Moabites had to be set aside. And Bathsheba — named even as the wife of Uriah — shows us grace triumphing over even a believer's sin. A salvation for sinners, through faith, apart from law, and eternal: this is what the simple insertion of these names declares.
Later, at Bethlehem, the townspeople bless Boaz by wishing his house to be like this man's house. The choice of pattern is startling once you know where he came from.
Is it not remarkable that the elders and the people should take the house of Perez as a pattern of blessing for the house of Boaz? Who was Perez? Let Genesis 38 answer… But it was through Perez, son of Tamar, that the promised blessing had to come. God led His line of promise through the base things of the world, and took up those whom man would spurn. This was to magnify His grace and exalt His name.
- Breach. The midwife's question comes over a child born out of order. Something broke out where men expected only shame.
- Breaker. The name Perez means "breaker forth." Out of him break the kings of Judah and Judah's great King, and beside him stands his twin Zerah — "sunrise."
- Birthright. Like Jacob before him, the younger son takes the elder's place. He points on to the true Inheritor, whose kingdom stands for ever.
- Grace. Tamar's sin is the very thing that brings her into Christ's genealogy. That is salvation for sinners, through faith, apart from law.
- Pattern. The elders take Perez's house as their pattern of blessing for Boaz. God ran His promise through what men would despise, to magnify His grace and exalt His name.
And afterwards came out his brother, round whose hand was the scarlet thread; and they called his name Zerah.
Genesis 38 is a dark chapter about Judah, Tamar and the sin between them. Its last verse names the second of the twins, Zerah, and commentators read that name as the turn from shame to the line that leads to Christ.
One writer ties the scarlet thread and the twins' names into one picture. It is Christ's right to rule, showing itself in the darkest of settings.
The colour "scarlet" stands for rights of lordship. It is both remarkable and instructive to see how the thought of Christ's supremacy runs through Scripture like a "thread of scarlet." This beautiful thought appears in what may be one of the darkest chapters in the Old Testament, Genesis 38. In dark and shameful circumstances, something with power to "break through" and to "rise up" (as the names of the twins suggest) is clearly at work. It leads on to a generation from which David springs.
Zerah's name points to a sunrise. The same writer hears that word again in a promise of light for a people in darkness.
In that beautiful passage, Isaiah 60:1-7, the same thought is in view. Sin, darkness and turning away from God have marked His people, and thick darkness covers them. But the Lord rises upon them, His glory shines out, and nations and kings come to acknowledge the "rising" (Zerah) that has broken through the darkness and shown His supremacy over all.
The midwife's thread was meant to settle which twin was the elder. It did not. Every later list in Scripture puts the other brother first.
Scripture always puts Perez, the son of Judah and Tamar, ahead of his twin brother Zarah, or Zerah, so he held the right of the firstborn. In David's reign the family of Perez held the highest rank in the tribe of Judah, and it appears to have stood out for its many children and its strength.
Losing the royal line did not mean losing a place. One writer traces what each brother's name produced in Israel's later history — the kings from one, and men of song and courage from the other.
Perez, the "breaker forth," breaks out into abundant fruit, which fills all the later history of Judah. From him come Judah's kings, and her great King. Twin with Perez comes Zerah, the sunrise. From him came singers, such as Ethan, and warriors, such as Shammah, Sibbechai and Maharai — strong defenders of the throne.
Matthew's genealogy of Jesus names Zerah, though the descent does not run through him. One writer suggests the mention is deliberate — it keeps the circumstances of the birth in view rather than hiding them.
Of all the women who might have been named, these four were, in different ways, the apparent blots on the genealogy. Far from hiding what was shameful about them, the record brings in details one might have thought could be left out. It is as if it wants to draw our attention to what might otherwise have been less noticed. So it mentions Zerah's twin birth with Perez, though Zerah himself is not in the line of the genealogy, as if to recall the sin that brought them into being.
Genesis 38 is full of human sin. One writer points to the genealogy of Jesus to show what God did with it.
Genesis 38 shows one of those remarkable cases where divine grace triumphs gloriously over man's sin. "It is evident that our Lord was descended from Judah" (Hebrews 7:14). But how? "Judah was the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar" (Matthew 1:3). This is especially striking. God, in His great grace, rises above the sin and folly of man to bring about His own purposes of love and mercy.
Another writer names Judah's guilt plainly, and then names what came through him.
Yet through this guilty Judah, and through Tamar, came the One who cleanses from all sin by His blood. He will reign over the universe to God's glory.
- Scarlet. The scarlet thread on Zerah's hand marks Christ's right to rule. His name marks a rising that breaks through the darkness.
- Reversal. The hand that came out first did not win the elder's place. Every later record puts Perez ahead of Zerah.
- Fruit. Zerah is not forgotten. From him came singers and warriors who defended the throne his brother's line would fill.
- Honesty. Zerah's name stands in Matthew's genealogy, though the line does not run through him. The record keeps the sin of that birth in plain view.
- Grace. Out of a ruined family God brought the One who cleanses from all sin. Grace won where nothing human deserved it.
And Joseph was brought down to Egypt; and Potiphar, a chamberlain of Pharaoh, the captain of the life-guard, an Egyptian, bought him of the hand of the Ishmaelites who had brought him down thither.
Genesis 39 returns to Joseph after a long break in the story. His brothers sold him, traders carried him down to Egypt, and an officer of Pharaoh now owns him. The verse raises the question the chapter answers. Had God lost sight of a young slave, sold twice over by men who wanted him gone?
Chapter 38 tells a completely different story, about Judah. One writer shows how the parts fit: chapter 39 picks up exactly where chapter 37 left off.
The last verse of chapter 37 and the first verse of chapter 39 belong together. The story of Judah comes in between, a complete twenty years on its own. "At that time" only marks the general period, and the whole story is given in one piece. Scripture does this very often. Joseph is a remarkable picture of Christ; Judah is the ancestor Christ came from as a man.
Twice in one verse Joseph changes hands — the traders brought him down, and Potiphar bought him. Writers ask what that change meant for a young man who had been his father's favourite — and what it was for.
What a change for him! He had been first and dearest in his father's love. Then his own brothers attacked him and wanted him dead, and now he is a slave in Egypt! Had the messages God gave him in his dreams made him independent of everything that came from man, whether love or hatred, and dependent only on God? If they had, he needed that now. And that, without doubt, was the value of the discipline he was going through.
The sting was sharper because of the dreams he had been given before any of this happened.
Strange that he had dreamed of future greatness, and here he was, brought low, sold twice over for a few pieces of silver, and held as a slave in a foreign land.
Potiphar's rank matters. It sets Joseph down close to Pharaoh himself.
The man who bought him was Potiphar, the captain of the guard. So this put Joseph in a place of real danger on the one hand, but close to Pharaoh on the other. Things began to work together for his final good, though that was in no way clear at the time.
His brothers meant the sale to defeat God's purpose for him. One writer shows that the sale, and the prison it led to, were the very road that purpose took.
Notice how far the trial of Joseph went. God's ordering kept it within limits, so that nothing in it could hinder His purpose. The trial was meant to frustrate that purpose, and it seemed to be completely against it. Yet that trial, and his righteous suffering in Egypt, brought about the very thing they seemed to stop. The Egypt his brothers sold him into, and the prison Potiphar put him in, led him to the butler and the baker — and that set him as governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
The years in Potiphar's house were not wasted time before Joseph's real life began. Every hard stage was preparing him for what was coming.
Every trial he passes through is only one more stage in the path that leads to glory. So is the way his brothers treated him, the slavery in the Egyptian's house, the false accusations of Potiphar's wife, Pharaoh's prison, and the neglect of Pharaoh's butler. His work as a shepherd, his errand to his brothers, and his service in Potiphar's house and in Pharaoh's prison are preparing him to use power in the day of his glory. The service in the trials prepares him for the right use of glory.
Look at the order in this verse. A brother sells him; foreigners buy him. One writer sees a picture of Christ in that order.
While Reuben was away, Judah took the lead in pulling him out and selling him to the Ishmaelites, who then sold him to an Egyptian master. What a foreshadowing of Christ, who suffered first from a faithless Judah, and then from the nations outside Israel as well! God's own history tells the future as truly in the pictures given in the law as in the heartfelt cries of the Psalms, or in the prophets who speak more directly.
- Sold. Traders bring Joseph down to Egypt, and Potiphar buys him — two sales in one verse. Writers do not soften how bitter that fall was for a favoured son.
- Placed. His buyer is Pharaoh's captain of the guard. The post was dangerous, but it stood close to the throne.
- Overruled. The very sale meant to cancel Joseph's dreams became the road to their fulfilment: "We cannot put God out of His way."
- Trained. Slavery and prison were not lost years. They were the school that fitted Joseph to hold power well.
- Foreshadowed. Judah sold him; foreigners bought him. Writers see in that pattern a picture of Christ's sufferings and the glory that followed.
And Jehovah was with Joseph, and he was a prosperous man; and he was in the house of his master the Egyptian.
Joseph arrives in Egypt as property. His brothers sold him, and an officer of Pharaoh bought him. Yet Genesis sums up his whole situation in one short line: the LORD was with him. So how can a man who has lost his family, his freedom and his future be a successful man while he is still a slave?
Everything in this chapter, good and bad, hangs on one line about God's presence.
Here is the explanation of all that happened: "The Lord was with Joseph." That being so, all he did prospered. Even what looked like disaster proved to be only a stepping-stone to something much better. Potiphar did not know the explanation of it, but he found he had made a first-rate bargain when he bought the young Semitic lad. The boy showed such skilful powers, together with God-fearing uprightness and integrity.
God had not just started being with Joseph. What is new is the force of the words now, when he is a slave. (Older translations print God's name as "Jehovah" where the ESV has "the LORD.")
The Egyptian never expected the treasure that one small purchase brought into his house. But the explanation is not hard to find, and it makes everything clear. "Jehovah was with Joseph, and he was a prosperous man." Never before was the word so emphatic. This does not mean Jehovah had been absent before, at home or abroad. Jehovah was with him when he gained his father's confidence and love. Jehovah was with him when by his faithfulness he earned the envy and hatred of his brothers. But now the words carry marked force: he is a slave in a strange land. But Jehovah was with him all the more because the need was greater.
The verse calls Joseph successful long before Egypt ever called him that.
The submissive man will always be a prosperous man. Nature would say that slavery and prosperity can never go together. But if we submit to His ways, the presence of the Lord can turn days of hardship into days of prosperity. The whole world would admit that Joseph was a prosperous man in the day of his exaltation. But faith sees, and God declares, that he was a prosperous man in the day of his humiliation. He will, in due time, ride prosperously as the ruler of Egypt, but first he must live prosperously as the slave of an Egyptian. The prosperity of the prison must come before the prosperity of the palace.
Joseph had just lost every family tie he had.
Joseph was sold in Egypt to Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh's bodyguard. But the Lord was with him (v. 2). He had suffered injustice, and had lost every connection with relatives and friends. The Lord delights to encourage the lonely and deprived. The result was that he was faithful and dependable in his work, prospering in it, though he was a slave.
So how did an Egyptian master come to notice God at work in his own slave?
His testimony was the testimony of his life, not his lips. What struck Potiphar was what he saw, not what he heard. If Joseph had spent his time complaining about his hard lot, or talking up his high destiny, he would have been no witness for the Lord in Potiphar's house. The Egyptian cared nothing about Joseph's past. Even if someone had explained his future to him, he would have understood none of it. But Potiphar could see and value his daily life of wholehearted attention to his duties. A Christian servant who lives a quiet, consistent, uncomplaining life and carries out his daily duties is a true witness for the Lord. That is something an unconverted master can value.
The same words come back later in the chapter, when Joseph lands in prison.
But Jehovah was with Joseph in the prison, just as much as in Potiphar's house. Verse 2 says He was with Joseph. Verse 21 says He was with Joseph, "and showed him mercy, and gave him favour in the sight of the keeper of the prison." It mattered little where he was, since Jehovah was with him. What a difference it makes when God is with us — and God in that special, known relationship, which the name "Jehovah" carries here as everywhere.
- Presence, first. "The Lord was with Joseph" explains everything else in the chapter. Even what looks like disaster becomes a stepping-stone to something better.
- Presence, strongest. The words carry the most force when Joseph is a slave in a foreign land. He was with him all the more because the need was greater.
- Presence, then prosperity. Faith and God call him prosperous in the day of his humiliation. The prosperity of the prison comes before the prosperity of the palace.
- Presence, then witness. Potiphar judged by what he saw, not what he heard: quiet, uncomplaining, wholehearted attention to daily duties.
- Presence, wherever. The same words come back in the dungeon. It mattered little where he was, since the LORD was with him.
And his master saw that Jehovah was with him, and that Jehovah made all that he did to prosper in his hand.
Joseph has been sold as a slave in Egypt. Here the story pauses to record what his master noticed about him. The question is not why Joseph did well, but how a master who did not know God could see the reason for it.
Commentators take one line as the key to the whole chapter. They also follow the word "hand" through it.
We are given the explanation of all that happened — "The Lord was with Joseph." Because that was true, everything he did prospered. Even what looked like disaster turned out to be only a stepping-stone to something much better. Verses 3 and 4 make us notice the striking way Joseph's "hand" is spoken of in the story. Because the Lord was with him, He "caused all that he did to succeed in his hands." So Joseph found favour with his master, who put all that he had into Joseph's hand. This was only natural. Potiphar did not know the reason for it, but he found he had made a first-rate bargain when he bought the young Semitic boy. Here was a slave with real skill, joined to honesty and uprightness that came from the fear of God.
Writers draw a lesson here for anyone who works for a boss with a different faith.
His witness was the witness of his life, not of his lips. Potiphar was struck by what he "saw", not by what he heard... If Joseph had always complained about his hard lot, or talked up the great future ahead of him, he would have been no witness for the Lord in Potiphar's house. The Egyptian cared nothing about his past, and even if Joseph had spelled out his future, the Egyptian would have understood nothing of it. But Joseph's daily life of wholehearted attention to his work was something Potiphar could see and value... To see a Christian servant living a quiet, steady, uncomplaining life, faithfully doing his daily work, is a true witness for the Lord, and something a master who is not a believer can appreciate.
Joseph treated slavery as his new place of duty, given to him by God.
In the Egyptian's house he saw a new field of duty. He looked to Jehovah, so that by serving Him he might serve his master best... He had been saved from a cruel death that seemed about to fall on him. So he bowed under God's hand, and set himself to do carefully and honestly whatever lay before him each day, to please the Master above. That is why he prospered and became master of the situation. Potiphar had never had such a slave, and neither had anyone else. There was no self-seeking in him, and no working only while the master watched... A force for good was at work here, with clear results of blessing, and even the sharp eye of a man who did not know God could not miss them.
This chapter keeps using the name Jehovah. One writer points out where it stands: over Joseph in the house, and again in prison.
But Jehovah was with Joseph in the prison, just as much as in Potiphar's house. Verse 2 says He was with Joseph. Verse 21 says He was with Joseph, "and showed him mercy, and gave him favour in the sight of the keeper of the prison"... It mattered little where he was, since Jehovah was with him. What a difference it makes when God is with us — and God in that special, known relationship, which the name "Jehovah" carries here as everywhere.
Scripture names the blessing while Joseph is still a slave, not when he rises to power. One writer sees the same pattern in the service of Christ.
Divine blessing marked Joseph's whole career. Yet notice that Scripture mentions it here, when he was a slave and unknown — and mentions it not once but three times. With the Lord Jesus it was during His lowly service in this narrow world that His mission and work looked like failure. It was just then that He had to say, in the words of the prophet, "I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my right is with the LORD, and my recompense with my God" (Isa. 49:4). But Jehovah had just said, "You are My servant... in whom I will be glorified."
- Presence. The Lord was with Joseph. That one fact explains everything that follows, even the setbacks that became stepping-stones.
- Prosperity. Everything Joseph touched prospered. The chapter keeps returning to his "hand", and a slave's work carried both skill and honesty.
- Proof. Potiphar believed his eyes, not his ears. A quiet, uncomplaining life at daily work is a witness anyone can read.
- Portability. The name Jehovah stands over Joseph in the house and again in the prison. The place changed; the presence did not.
- Purpose. Scripture records the blessing three times while Joseph is still a slave. Christ's lowly work looked like failure too, yet God said He would be glorified in Him.
And Joseph found favour in his eyes, and attended on him; and he set him over his house, and all that he had he gave into his hand.
Joseph has been sold into Egypt as a slave and set to work in the house of one of Pharaoh's officers. Here the slave rises to run the whole estate, and commentators trace that rise not to his charm but to God.
The verse says Joseph found favour in his master's sight. One commentator points out that the Egyptian's good opinion did not begin in the Egyptian.
The Lord was not only with Joseph, but He was for Joseph, disposing the heart of the master in favour of His servant.
The verse also says Joseph attended his master. One writer describes where that service came from.
In the Egyptian's house he saw a new field of duty. He looked to Jehovah, so that by serving Him he might best serve his master… Potiphar had never had such a slave, and neither had anyone else. Joseph never sought himself, and he never worked only to be seen. He put not just his heart into his work, but his faith. That gave his work a new character and power, and a shrewd master who had met plenty of human dishonesty and incompetence valued it all the more.
One repeated word ties verses 3 and 4 together. A commentator traces where it leads.
Verses 3 and 4 lead us to notice the striking way the story mentions Joseph's "hand." Because the Lord was with him, He "made all that he did to prosper in his hand." So Joseph found favour with his master, and "all that he had he put into his hand." No wonder. Potiphar did not know the reason for it, but he found he had made a first-rate bargain when he bought the young Semitic boy. Joseph showed real skill along with God-fearing honesty and integrity.
(The older translation quoted here reads "put into his hand"; the ESV renders it "put him in charge of all that he had.")
The same writer follows that word to the end of Joseph's story, in the blessing his father Jacob spoke over him:
The wording of that blessing is striking, given the way Joseph's hands keep appearing in his story. Here the secret source of Joseph's skill comes to light. Upon the hands of Joseph rested the hands of the mighty God.
Joseph's witness here was his life, not his talk. That is where the lesson lands for anyone working for a boss who does not share their faith.
If Joseph had spent his time complaining about his hard lot, or talking up his great future, he would have been no witness for the Lord in Potiphar's house. The Egyptian cared nothing about Joseph's past. Even if someone had set his future before him, he would have understood none of it. But Potiphar could see and value Joseph's daily life of wholehearted attention to his duties. It is no different today… A Christian servant who lives a quiet, steady, uncomplaining life and does his daily duties faithfully is a true witness for the Lord, and his master can value that even without sharing his faith.
One writer reads Joseph's rise in this house as a picture of a greater one. The pattern is simple: wherever Joseph gets the top place, blessing follows.
Potiphar gives Joseph the highest place in his household, and at once Potiphar is blessed. A little later the jailer makes Joseph supreme in the prison, and blessing follows. So in the day of his universal rule, all submit to him and all are blessed… As far as we yield ourselves, our lives and our all to the supremacy of Christ, we too shall be blessed.
Joseph's promotion did not last. One writer sets that loss beside a favour that cannot be lost.
To know that you stand in the unclouded favour of God is a privilege beyond words. Next to it, the favour of rulers on earth is weak and changeable, though men of the world fight hard for it. Joseph "found grace" in Potiphar's sight, and he soon lost it through no fault of his own (Gen. 39:4).
- Presence. The Lord was with Joseph, and that presence is the explanation behind every other detail in the verse.
- Favour. God was not only with Joseph but for him, turning the master's heart. The promotion came from above before it came from Potiphar.
- Hand. What God prospered in Joseph's hand, Potiphar placed in Joseph's hand. The hands of the mighty God rested on the hands of the slave.
- Witness. Potiphar read Joseph's work, not his speeches. Quiet, uncomplaining, faithful work is a witness an unbelieving employer can read.
- Warning. A master's favour can vanish through no fault of your own. The favour God gives a believer is of a different order.
And it came to pass from the time he had set him over his house and all that he had, that Jehovah blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake; and the blessing of Jehovah was on all that he had in the house and in the field.
Joseph is a slave in a foreign house. Yet his owner's whole estate starts to prosper, and the reason given is Joseph himself. God ties the blessing to one man: it came "for Joseph's sake."
This blessing lands inside the house of the man who owned Joseph — a house with corruption hidden in it.
Here was blessing plainly seen in his servitude, and his master's trust at last without limit. "And he left all that was his in Joseph's hand, and took notice of nothing with him except the bread which he ate." Corruption was in that house, and it soon came out in a shameless way. But until then "the LORD blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake."
Joseph treated his owner's house as a place to serve God, and Potiphar saw the difference.
In the Egyptian's house he saw a new sphere of duty, and he looked to Jehovah so that he might serve Him and so best serve his master. Potiphar had never had such a slave: in him there was no self-seeking and no working only when watched… Because he was faithful in the least, his master promoted him to greater tasks and much more honourable ones. "And he set him over his house, and all that was his he put into his hand." This was no small sphere of service. It involved running an immense establishment… All of it was new to him, and he had come there so recently and so strangely. Even so, "the LORD blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake; the blessing of the LORD was on all that he had, in house and field."
The blessing reached house and field alike. Notice what Potiphar then did.
He enjoyed more than this ease of mind about the running of his household. Extraordinary good fortune marked all his affairs, both "in the house and in the field." As a result Potiphar left everything "in Joseph's hand."
God can bless a whole household for the sake of one person in it. Here that person was the slave, not the master.
Notice that the Lord was ready to save all of Lot's household. The angels said to him: "Have you anyone else here? Sons-in-law, sons, daughters, or anyone you have in the city, bring them out of the place." Those sons-in-law were probably Sodomites. Yet for Lot's sake the Lord would have saved them, if they had been willing to be saved. (Gen. 19). Potiphar's whole house was blessed for Joseph's sake. And Joseph was his slave.
Joseph's master was a foreigner, not an Israelite. Writers apply this to everyday Christian life.
So Joseph became a source of blessing in the house of the Gentile (v. 5). The Christian is not only called to blessing but, as he passes along his way, to be a blessing.
The phrase "for Joseph's sake" invites a comparison with Christ. Notice too when Scripture records this blessing — while Joseph is still a slave.
In Joseph's case it is stressed that he was what he was by the blessing of Jehovah (Gen. 39:3 and 5), and if the blessing of Jehovah was on Potiphar's house it was "for Joseph's sake." So too with the Lord Jesus. He "went about doing good… for God was with Him" (Acts 10:38). The blessing of the Lord was shown among men as never before: healing, deliverance from every kind of evil, and spiritual life came to them. But it was "for Jesus' sake." Divine blessing marked Joseph's whole career. Yet Scripture mentions it at this point, when he was in servitude and obscurity — and not once only, but three times.
Another writer widens the comparison from one house to the whole world.
With Joseph in it, the house of the Egyptian is blessed by God; but with Christ ministering in it, how beyond words the world was blessed! All the power was there, and showing itself. It could have turned — and will yet turn — the need of man, however great and varied, into an occasion for displaying the wealth of divine loving-mercy. But it did not turn man's heart to God.
- Presence. Joseph was what he was by the blessing of the Lord. That one fact carries the whole story.
- Position. Joseph was faithful in the least, so his master gave him much more. The blessing starts the day Potiphar hands everything over.
- Reach. The blessing went as far as Joseph's charge went — house and field. His master kept track of nothing except his own food.
- Overflow. A slave carried blessing to the household that owned him. God calls the Christian not only to blessing but to be a blessing.
- For His sake. Potiphar's house prospered "for Joseph's sake." The good the Lord Jesus did among men in His lowly service was "for Jesus' sake" — yet it did not turn man's heart to God.
And he left all that he had in Joseph's hand, and took cognizance of nothing with him, save the bread that he ate. And Joseph was of a beautiful form and of a beautiful countenance.
A slave now runs the whole estate of Pharaoh's captain of the guard, and his owner has stopped checking the accounts. The verse ends with a quiet note about Joseph's looks — a detail that seems out of place until you read what happens next.
Potiphar's confidence shows in what he stopped watching. He handed over the whole property and kept account of nothing but his own meals. One writer sets this against the moral state of the house that surrounded it.
Here it was clear blessing in his slavery, and his master's trust in the end without limit. Corruption was in that house, as it came out soon in a shameless form; but until then "the LORD blessed the Egyptian's house for Joseph's sake."
Genesis keeps returning to one word in this story: Joseph's hand. Everything prospers in it. His master puts everything into it and leaves everything in it. Much later, when Jacob blesses his sons, the reason comes out.
The wording of Genesis 49:24 stands out when you see how often the story mentions Joseph's hands — see Genesis 39:3-4, 6, 22; Genesis 41:42. Here we see the secret spring of Joseph's skill. Upon the hands of Joseph rested the hands of the mighty God.
Potiphar prospers because of the man he has put in charge. Writers who read Joseph as a picture of Christ find a pattern here that repeats through his whole life.
Viewing Joseph as a type of Christ, it is important to remember that it was God's purpose to set Joseph in the place of supremacy, and so everyone who submits to his supremacy is blessed. Potiphar gives Joseph a place of supremacy in his household, and immediately Potiphar is blessed. A little later the jailer makes Joseph supreme in the prison and blessing follows... The supremacy of Christ demands the submission of man, and the submission of man leads to the blessing of man — though while He is rejected, that blessing is spiritual rather than material.
Nothing in these verses records Joseph preaching. What the text says is that his master saw. That distinction carries a warning for anyone who works under someone who does not share their faith.
His testimony was the testimony of his life rather than his lips. Potiphar was impressed by what he "saw" rather than by what he heard... Had Joseph been forever complaining of his hard lot, or going on about his high destiny, he would have been no witness for the Lord in Potiphar's house. The Egyptian cared nothing about Joseph's past. Even if someone had set his future before him, he would have understood none of it. But Potiphar could see and value his daily life of wholehearted attention to his duties.
The record mentions Joseph's looks only after listing all he did. Commentators read that order as deliberate: the beauty sums up a life.
So we have seen that in the house of the Gentile Joseph was a submissive man, a prosperous man, a witness for the Lord, a respected and trusted man, and a centre of blessing. Such qualities make up a very complete life. So we are not surprised to read that Joseph was "handsome in form and appearance." This Old Testament saint shows us a life that is beautiful before God and man.
Another writer lists Joseph with men of faith whose good looks came with something God valued more.
There is another kind of beauty that can go with outward beauty in men of faith. God values it as the reflection of character: the beauty of a pure soul or of simple faith, the shining out of a heart that shuts out evil and sin... This is the beauty of Joseph, "handsome in form and appearance," yet set apart among his brothers.
This is the high point of Joseph's time in that house. It is also where the trouble starts. One writer sees the bright stretch as part of God's discipline, coming just before the hardest part.
The winter is seldom without some gleam of sunshine... Before the harshest part of the discipline reaches us, we are often cheered by an unexpected relief. So Joseph is a prosperous man in the captain's house. But he is soon driven from it. The adversary of souls sets a trap for him, and he has the integrity and dignity to run from it... Evil association too often goes along with prosperity. But for the God-fearing soul, prosperity in evil association cannot last.
- Hand. The chapter keeps repeating one word: Joseph's hand. Everything prospered in it because God's hand rested on his.
- Trust. His master's confidence ended up total: he kept account of nothing but the food on his own table.
- Blessing. Everyone who put Joseph in charge was blessed — Potiphar, then the jailer, then all Egypt.
- Witness. What Potiphar saw won him, not what he heard. Quiet, uncomplaining faithfulness at work is a testimony an unbelieving employer can read.
- Beauty. The note on Joseph's looks closes a list of qualities — submissive, prosperous, trusted, a centre of blessing. The beauty God values shows character, not features.
And it came to pass after these things, that his master's wife cast her eyes on Joseph, and said, Lie with me!
Joseph now runs his master's whole Egyptian household. Everything Potiphar owns is in his hands. At that very moment, his master's wife looks at him and speaks. The scene raises a question many readers feel at once: why is a season of blessing so often the moment of greatest danger?
The attack does not come out of nowhere. Joseph had already come through years of hardship without breaking. The attack now comes from a new direction.
We should not expect the devil to leave alone a life that is beautiful in the sight of God and man. Devotion to the Lord exposes Joseph to the hatred of the devil. The devil failed completely to overcome Joseph by the frowns of the world and the trials of hard circumstances. So he changes his tactics and tries to overcome Joseph by the pleasures of sin. In Potiphar's wife he has a ready tool to tempt Joseph, and the circumstances favour her evil plans.
The trap is set inside comfort, not hardship. One writer asks what Potiphar's wife stands for.
Joseph is a prosperous man in the captain's house. But he is soon driven out of it. The enemy of souls prepares a snare for him, and Joseph has the integrity and dignity to flee from it. The snare only appealed to what was corrupt in his nature. It offered no relief from his condition as a slave. We may see Potiphar's wife as a picture of the world; she stands for its attractions. When she fails to attract this prosperous servant of God, she becomes his fiercest and most ruthless enemy. Evil company too often comes with prosperity. But for a God-fearing soul, prosperity held with evil company cannot last.
Some critics call the scene impossible. They say an Egyptian wife would never have met a household slave. Egypt's own remains answer them.
Many critics claim "that Joseph could never have seen his master's wife, for the women were secluded and had separate apartments." But monuments and Egyptian paintings show that the women were not shut away. They mixed freely with the men. In the hieroglyphics the word for woman is neb-t-en pa, which means "mistress of the house." Someone also found an ancient papyrus containing "the romance of the two brothers." It has an episode much like the one in our chapter. It fully confirms that the temptation of Joseph is not a myth.
Two verses later Joseph answers, and his answer reaches past his master to God. Where did that instinct come from?
How good it is to notice that Joseph, faced with the most terrible temptation, resists and escapes. What is the secret of his being kept? He says, "How can I sin against God?" His eye is upon God. He lives before God. Happy man! Before God he knows what is right and wrong. He knows that every sin, whether "against his own body" or not, is a sin against God.
Joseph's answer is to get out of the room. Is running away weakness?
His way for us is always one that makes us realize our weakness. Our prayer can never be, "Lead us into temptation," and so we are never to act as if this were our prayer. In every case where escape is possible without disloyalty, we are to flee rather than face it. "Flee youthful passions." "Abstain from the passions of the flesh." Flee, as Joseph fled; and perhaps no man was bolder.
Saying no costs Joseph everything he has just gained. What does God make of suffering that is not deserved?
Here we see the holy young man resisting the tempter. He endures grief and suffers though he has done nothing wrong. And this is grace in the day of trial. For what glory is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you take it patiently? But if when you do good and suffer for it, you take it patiently, this is grace with God. For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow His steps. Joseph could be no real picture of the atonement. But of Christ suffering unjustly and in grace he was a blessed foreshadow.
- Blessing invites attack. Hardship did not break Joseph, so the enemy tried pleasure instead — just when life got good.
- Comfort carries company. Bad company often comes with success. For a God-fearing soul, the two cannot last together.
- The record stands. Critics said an Egyptian wife could never have met a household slave. Egypt's own monuments and papyri say otherwise.
- Sin's real address is God. Joseph already lived before God, so he saw the offer at once as sin against Him.
- Flee, don't fence. Where escape is possible without disloyalty, run, as Joseph ran. He was no coward. It cost him everything, and it made him a picture of Christ suffering unjustly.
But he refused, and said to his master's wife, Behold, my master takes cognizance of nothing with me what is in the house, and all that he has, he has given into my hand.
Joseph is a slave, yet his master has put a whole Egyptian household in his care. Now the master's wife wants what no servant could give her. His answer does not start with his own feelings or with the danger to himself. It starts with the trust his master placed in him.
Joseph's first reason is loyalty. He answers the woman by speaking about her husband.
Potiphar's wife was Satan's tool in this wicked attack. She tried many times to seduce Joseph into adultery with her (vv. 7-14), but he refused every time. He told her that his master had trusted him with great responsibility in his house. He was not going to prove false to that trust by violating the marriage between his master and his wife.
Potiphar no longer checked on his own household. That trust was earned long before this moment, and it grew out of Joseph's service to God.
In the Egyptian's house he saw a new field of duty. He looked to Jehovah, so that by serving Him he might best serve his master… He had been saved from a cruel death that seemed very near. So he humbled himself under God's hand, and set himself to do carefully and honestly whatever lay before him each day, to please the Master above. That is why he prospered and became master of the situation. Potiphar had never had such a slave, and neither had anyone else. There was no self-seeking in him, and no work done only when the master was watching.
Hardship had not broken Joseph. The next attack came from a different direction.
Devotion to the Lord exposes Joseph to the hatred of the devil. The devil has completely failed to overcome Joseph by the world's frowns and by hard circumstances. So he changes his tactics and tries to overcome Joseph by the pleasures of sin… Joseph escapes the trap by holding to his faithfulness to his master and his fear of God… Here is the secret of Joseph's steady life before his master. He served faithfully in front of people because he walked always in the presence of God. And because he walked in the fear of God, he was kept safe in the hour of temptation.
Verse 8 names the human wrong. Joseph's next words name the deepest one.
Then came a time of fierce and long testing… Here the testing met him day after day. Nothing kept him safe but his fear of God and his recognition of the great wickedness of what she offered him. Whether young or old, as we pass through this defiling world, we do well to keep this question always in our hearts: "How then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" If he had given in, he would have sinned against the woman, against Potiphar and against himself. But the thought that controlled and saved him was "against God."
What guarded Joseph is not unique to him.
The blessed Book is full of passages that show, in every possible way, how immensely important the fear of God is… The man who walks day by day in the fear of God is kept from every form of moral corruption. A living sense of God's presence must be a real shelter from every temptation. How often we find that the presence of a very holy and spiritual person acts as a healthy check on silliness and folly! If another human being has that much moral influence, how much more powerful would the felt presence of God be!
Saying no once was not enough, and saying no was not free.
The temptation came "day by day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent, until Joseph "flees" from the temptation and the devil is beaten. Having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who once looked at Joseph with evil desire now lies about him. As one writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is no new thing for the best of men to be falsely accused of the worst crimes by people who are themselves the worst of criminals." So Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience can cost a lot.
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- Trust earned. Joseph worked to please "the Master above." That is why his master put everything into his hands.
- Trust tested. Hardship had not moved him, so the attack switched from the world's frowns to the pleasures of sin.
- Trust kept. His first answer points to his master's trust, and he would not break it.
- Trust deepened. Three parties would have been wronged, but the thought that saved him was "against God."
- Trust costly. A refusal repeated day by day ends in flight and false accusation — a good conscience kept at a real price.
There is none greater in this house than I; neither has he withheld anything from me but thee, because thou art his wife; and how should I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?
Joseph is a slave in a foreign house, trusted with everything his master owns and pressed day after day by his master's wife. His refusal names that trust first, and then it names God.
Joseph's answer starts with what his master had put in his hands, and the one thing kept out of them.
She tried many times to get Joseph to commit adultery with her (vv. 7-14). He refused every time. He told her that his master had trusted him with great responsibility in his house. He was not going to betray that trust by breaking the marriage between his master and his wife. Doing that, he tells her, would be great wickedness and a sin against the Lord.
This act would have wronged several people. Joseph names only God, and that is what held him.
Young or old, as we pass through this world that stains us, we do well to keep this question always in our hearts: "How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" If he had given in, he would have sinned against the woman, against Potiphar and against himself. But the thought that controlled him and saved him was "against God."
That instinct is not limited to this kind of sin. One writer draws the wider rule out of Joseph's words:
What was the secret that kept him? He says, "How can I … sin against God?" His eye is on God. He lives before God. Happy man! Before God he has a sense of what is right and what is wrong. He knows that every sin, whether it is "against his own body" (see 1 Cor. 6:18) or not, is a sin against God. His reply showed a godly state of mind and a tender conscience.
Joseph could ask that question at once because of how he lived before the test came. His service to a man and his fear of God were not two separate things.
Here is the secret of Joseph's steady life in front of his master. He served man faithfully because he walked always in the presence of God. Walking in the fear of God kept him in the hour of temptation. It is good for each one of us if the moment of fierce temptation finds us walking so close to God that we ask at once, "Can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" To ask that question is to escape the trap. The only thing we really have to be afraid of is fearing anything, or anyone, more than God.
Joseph did not only speak. He ran. One writer turns that escape into a rule, and adds that running away was not weakness:
Whenever we can escape without being disloyal, we are to run from temptation rather than face it. Scripture says, "Flee youthful passions," and "abstain from the passions of the flesh" — hold off from them. Flee, as Joseph fled; and there was perhaps no bolder man.
Refusing did not improve Joseph's situation. It wrecked it. The tempter turned into an accuser.
The temptation came "day after day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent, until Joseph fled from it and the devil failed. Having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18)… So Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience can cost a lot. Joseph has to trade the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardship of Pharaoh's prison.
People often picture Joseph as a soft young man. One writer answers that, and follows the one thought that runs through his whole life.
Many people think Joseph was a good young man, but a rather soft one. Read his history carefully and you trace a character that is strong, wise, noble, generous and manly. Wherever he was, God was in all his thoughts. When he was tempted, he said, "How can I … sin against God?" When he stands before Pharaoh, his first words are, "God will give …" When he tells his brothers who he is, he says, "Do not be distressed or angry with yourselves … for God sent me before you." … He did not complain under that great disaster. He looks around to see what he can do to help others, even his jailers.
- Trust. Joseph held everything in the house except his master's wife. Taking her would have betrayed the man who trusted him.
- God. The sin would have wronged the woman, Potiphar and Joseph himself. Joseph names only God. That was the thought that controlled him and saved him.
- Habit. He could ask that question at once because he had walked in God's presence all along. To ask it is to escape the trap.
- Flight. Joseph answers with his feet. Where escape is possible, run — as Joseph ran, and there was perhaps no bolder man.
- Cost. A good conscience cost Joseph comfort and bought him prison. Even there, God was in all his thoughts.
And it came to pass as she spoke to Joseph day by day and he hearkened not to her, to lie with her [and] to be with her,
The pressure on Joseph was not one moment of crisis. It came every day, and his answer never changed. The verse adds something easy to miss: he refused her company as well as the act she wanted.
Hamilton Smith reads the daily repetition here as strategy, and follows what the enemy does when it fails:
The devil, however, is not content with isolated attacks upon the children of God. He will wage a continual warfare. It was so with Joseph. The temptation came "day after day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent until Joseph flees from it. That foils the devil. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18).
The chapter just before this one told how Judah fell. F. B. Hole sets the two men side by side and finds the thought that carried Joseph through a long trial:
Then came a time of fierce and prolonged testing, and we see how great is the contrast with Judah's action in the previous chapter. There Judah sinned at once, and hardly saw it as sin. Here the testing met him day after day. Two things held him: his fear of God, and his sense of the great wickedness of the seduction put before him... If he had given in, he would have sinned against the woman, against Potiphar and against himself. But the thought that controlled and saved him was "against God."
F. A. Hughes finds the point in that rhythm — Joseph lived by a standard God had not yet written down:
The wife of Potiphar spoke to Joseph day by day, seducing him. Evil comes to us day by day in this seductive way. That is why we must keep numbering our own days before God... Each day he lives, he is living before God. Joseph is numbering his days according to God. He lives out God's Commandments before they are given — "You shall not commit adultery" — and counts his days by that.
He would not even be in her company. One writer turns that refusal into a rule, and denies that walking away is cowardice:
His way for us is always one that makes us feel our own weakness. Our prayer can never be, "Lead us into temptation," and therefore we are never to act as if this were our prayer. In all cases where escape is possible without disloyalty, we are to flee rather than face it. "So flee youthful passions." "Abstain (hold off) from the passions of the flesh." Flee, as Joseph fled — and there was, perhaps, no bolder man.
Refusing had a price. Commentators read Potiphar's wife in different ways. Smith sees the devil working through her; another writer sees her as more than one woman:
The adversary of souls then prepared a snare for him, and he had the integrity and dignity to flee from it. It only appealed to the depravity of his nature, and offered no relief to his condition as a slave. We may regard Potiphar's wife as a picture of the world; she stands for its attractions. She fails to win the prosperous servant of God, and so she becomes his fiercest and most unscrupulous foe.
Joseph came out of this clean, and suffering followed. William Kelly reads that pattern as a preview, and marks its limit:
So here we have the holy young man resisting the tempter, bearing grief, suffering though he had done no wrong. And this is grace in the day of trial... "But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in His steps"... Joseph could be no real picture of the atonement. But of Christ suffering unjustly and in grace, he was a blessed foreshadow.
- Day by day — the pressure. The attack was not one hour of weakness but a campaign. The enemy keeps coming and grows more persistent, until you obey him or flee.
- Day by day — the guard. Joseph lived each day before God, keeping a commandment God had not yet given.
- Day by day — the answer. Judah sinned at once. One thought held Joseph: this would be sin against God — not just against the woman, Potiphar, or himself.
- Day by day — the distance. He refused her company, not just what she asked. Where escape is possible without disloyalty, flee; Joseph fled, and he was no coward.
- Day by day — the cost. The world that cannot seduce you will turn on you. Joseph kept a clear conscience and suffered for it, and in that he foreshadows Christ.
that on a certain day he went into the house to do his business, and there was none of the men of the house there in the house.
Joseph had risen from slave to steward in an Egyptian officer's house. On this ordinary day he went in to work and found himself alone with the woman who kept pressing him to sin.
Joseph's trouble grew out of his success. When hardship failed to break him, the attack simply changed shape.
We should not expect the devil to leave alone a life that is beautiful in the sight of God and man. Devotion to the Lord exposes Joseph to the hatred of the devil. The devil had completely failed to overcome Joseph by the world's disapproval and by hard circumstances. So he changes his tactics and tries to overcome Joseph by the pleasures of sin. In Potiphar's wife he has a ready tool to tempt Joseph, and the circumstances favour her evil plans. As it turned out, the temptation only served to bring out the moral excellence of Joseph.
He was not loitering where he had no business; his work took him there. And going to Potiphar would have solved nothing.
When Potiphar's wife kept urging Joseph to commit adultery with her, what could he do but firmly refuse? If he reported it to Potiphar, she would accuse him of lying, and probably say that Joseph had tried to seduce her. Finally the day came when no one else was present. Joseph had to go into the house to take care of his work. She caught him by his garment and demanded again that he commit adultery with her.
Nobody was there to see, and nobody was there to advise him. What held him back came from somewhere else.
Joseph had no father near to counsel him when the temptation arose, and it came again and again through his master's wife. But he utterly refused her shameless flattery, as one who sees the Unseen. The ten commandments had not yet been spoken; but he feared God, and he was jealous for his master's honour.
Joseph did not argue or test his own strength; he ran. One writer makes that the rule for everyone.
Our prayer can never be, "Lead us into temptation," and therefore we are never to act as if this were our prayer. In every case where escape is possible without disloyalty, we are to flee rather than face it. "Flee youthful passions." "Abstain from the passions of the flesh." Flee, as Joseph fled; and there was, perhaps, no bolder man.
The sin would have wronged three people, yet a fourth name held Joseph back.
Here the testing met him day after day. Nothing preserved him but his fear of God, and his sense of the great wickedness of the seduction placed before him. Whether young or old, as we pass through this defiling world, we do well to keep this question in our hearts: "How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" Had he complied, he would have sinned against the woman, against Potiphar, and against himself. But the controlling and saving thought was "against God."
Refusal did not end the attack; it changed its form. The same woman who wanted him now wanted him destroyed.
Having failed as the tempter, the devil now becomes the persecutor. The woman who had earlier cast her evil eyes on Joseph now bears false witness against him with a lying tongue. As an old writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth." … In the end Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience may cost much. Joseph has to exchange the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardships of Pharaoh's prison.
Joseph suffered though he had done right. One writer sees a likeness to Christ here, but marks its limit.
Here we see the holy young man resisting the tempter, enduring grief, suffering wrongfully. And this is grace in the day of trial. … Joseph could be no real picture of the atonement; but of Christ's suffering unjustly and in grace he was a blessed foreshadow.
- Alone in blessing. Prosperity and trust did not shield Joseph; they drew the attack.
- Alone on duty. His work took him into that house. Doing your duty can walk you straight into the test.
- Alone with God. No father was there to counsel him, so he acted as one who sees the Unseen.
- Alone, so he ran. Where escape is possible without disloyalty, run — as Joseph ran. What held him was the thought of sinning "against God."
- Alone, and accused. The tempter turned persecutor. Joseph kept a good conscience and lost his comfort — suffering wrongly, as Christ later would.
Then she caught him by his garment, saying, Lie with me! But he left his garment in her hand, and fled and ran out.
Joseph had two options: stay and argue, or get out and lose his coat. He ran, and the coat left in her hand became the evidence that sent him to prison.
Joseph did not stand his ground and debate. One writer makes Joseph's escape a pattern for us all. Running was not cowardice in him:
God's way for us always makes us realize our own weakness. Our prayer can never be, "Lead us into temptation," and therefore we are never to act as if this were our prayer. Whenever we can escape without being disloyal, we should run rather than stand and face it. "Flee also youthful lusts." "Abstain (hold off) from fleshly lusts." Flee, as Joseph fled; and there was, perhaps, no bolder man.
So why not stay and argue instead? Eve tried that:
If you do not want temptation to defeat you, do not argue with Satan. When Eve began to argue her case with the serpent, the serpent was too clever for her. The devil used his reasoning to argue her right out of Paradise. If you sit down to talk terms with him, you give him half the victory.
Hardship had not broken Joseph, so the pressure came in a new form. What held him was the habit of living before God:
The devil has completely failed to break Joseph through the world's hostility and hard circumstances, so he changes tactics and tries to defeat him with the pleasures of sin. Joseph escapes the trap by holding on to his faithfulness to his master and his fear of God. "Behold," says Joseph, "my master … has put everything he has into my hands … how then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" (vv. 8, 9). Here is the secret of Joseph's consistent life before his master. He served people faithfully because he lived every day in God's presence. And because he walked in the fear of God, God kept him in the hour of temptation. It is good for each of us if fierce temptation finds us walking so close to God that we ask at once, "Can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" To ask that question is to escape the snare. The only thing we really need to fear is fearing anything, or anyone, more than God.
Verse 12 is the peak of a long campaign, and the moment he escaped it, the attack changed shape:
The temptation came "day by day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent, until Joseph "flees" from the temptation and the devil's plan fails. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who once looked at Joseph with evil desire now gives lying testimony against him. As an older writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is nothing new for the worst of criminals to accuse the best of men of the worst crimes." So Joseph escapes a wicked woman and keeps a good conscience. But to retain a good conscience may cost much. Joseph has to exchange the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardships of Pharaoh's prison.
She turned the very thing he gave up to stay clean into proof of his guilt:
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out for other men, no doubt servants of the household, and told them Joseph had come in to rape her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So from the moment it happened, she had testimony against Joseph that looked convincing.
The same pattern still shows up wherever someone will not bend:
This is just how the world works. People will first do all they can to lure a Christian away from faithfulness to Christ. If he resists and stands firm, they turn around and start to persecute him and spread lies about him.
There is a limit to how far the comparison runs:
So here we see the holy young man resisting the tempter, bearing grief, suffering though he had done no wrong. And this is grace in the day of trial. … Joseph could be no real picture of the atonement. But of Christ suffering unjustly and in grace he was a wonderful foreshadowing.
- Fear — Joseph ran because he already lived in God's presence. God keeps the man who walks in His fear when the hour of temptation comes.
- Flight — if you can escape without being disloyal, run. Argue with the tempter and you have already handed him half the victory.
- Persistence — the pressure came day by day. When tempting failed, the tempter turned persecutor.
- Cost — Joseph kept a clear conscience and lost his comfort. The garment he dropped became the false evidence that sent him to prison.
- Christ — Joseph is no picture of the atonement. But in suffering unjustly and in grace he foreshadows Christ.
And it came to pass, when she saw that he had left his garment in her hand and had fled forth,
When Potiphar's wife looked down at the clothing still in her hand, the story turned. Joseph had just done the right thing in the only way left to him — he ran. The proof of his innocence then became the evidence that destroyed him.
The moment she sees the garment, she starts building a case.
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out for other men, no doubt servants of the household. She told them Joseph had come in to rape her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So from the moment it happened, she had witness against Joseph that seemed conclusive.
Joseph did not stay to argue, and he did not trust himself to hold the line by willpower. Losing the garment was the price of getting out.
He did not stop to say, "I am Joseph, I am a man of God, I can withstand this sort of thing." He knew well the power of nature. He knew well the power of evil. So he fled, leaving his garment in the hand of the evil woman.
One writer turns Joseph's escape into a rule for anyone facing the same pull.
Our prayer can never be, "Lead us into temptation," and therefore we are never to act as if this were our prayer. In every case where escape is possible without disloyalty, we are to flee rather than face it. "Flee youthful passions." "Abstain (hold off) from the passions of the flesh." Flee, as Joseph fled. There was, perhaps, no bolder man.
This was not one sudden crisis. The pressure came back again and again, and one question held him.
Here the testing met him day after day. Only his fear of God preserved him, and his recognition of the great wickedness of the seduction placed before him. Whether young or old, we do well to keep this question in our hearts as we pass through this defiling world: "How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" Had he given in, he would have sinned against the woman, against Potiphar and against himself. But the controlling and saving thought was "against God."
What she does next is the same appetite, now aimed at ruining him. Notice also what Joseph never does: he never clears himself by exposing her.
Clearly this young man did more than resist her demands. He was also careful not to wound his master by proving the wife's guilty passion, and her still guiltier revenge on a blameless man. For lust, whether gratified or not, soon turns to hatred.
The pattern reaches past one household, and past one day.
One event here shows the power of godliness. It also tells what the faithful may expect from this world: slander, false accusation, and prison. This was the first effect of faithfulness… In Potiphar's wife we see the world in a familiar character. Its prince is first the tempter, then the accuser of the saints. Joseph has to wait more than two full years before God appears for him. Faith and patience must have their perfect work.
Joseph never got a public hearing. The charge stood on the record, and he let it.
Nothing was said about why he was put in prison. So far as the record goes, no one ever cleared him of the false charge brought against him. He evidently left this in the hand of God, who knows how to care for His servant's reputation.
One writer reads that undefended suffering as a preview of Someone greater.
Here then we have the holy youth resisting the tempter, enduring grief, and suffering when he had done no wrong… Joseph could be no true picture of the atonement. But of Christ's suffering unjustly and in grace, he was a blessed foreshadow.
- Flee. Joseph did not negotiate, explain, or test his own strength. Escape was possible, so he took it and left the garment behind.
- Fear. One question carried him through daily pressure: how can I sin against God? The sin would have wronged others too, but God was the restraint.
- Framed. Refused desire turned into hatred, and the proof of his purity became the evidence for the lie. The world tempts first and accuses second.
- Filed away. He never exposed her, and the record never cleared him. He left his good name with God, who cares for His servant's reputation.
- Foreshadow. Joseph suffered though innocent and took it patiently. So he is a foreshadow of Christ, who suffered unjustly and in grace.
that she called to the men of her house, and spoke to them, saying, See, he has brought in a Hebrew man to us, to mock us he came in to me, to lie with me; and I cried with a loud voice;
Joseph has just fled from Potiphar's wife, and she still holds his garment. Within moments she turns it into evidence: she shouts for the household and accuses a foreign slave of assault. What happens when doing the right thing makes everything worse?
The pressure on Joseph came day after day, not in one moment. When the temptation failed, persecution began:
The temptation came "day after day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent. Then Joseph "flees" from the temptation, and the devil is foiled. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who once cast her evil eyes on Joseph now bears witness against him with a lying tongue. As an old writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is nothing new for the worst of criminals to accuse the best of men falsely of the worst crimes." As a result, Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience can cost much.
Joseph's refusal did not end the matter. It made her his enemy. Commentators read her as a type — a picture standing for something bigger than one household:
We may regard Potiphar's wife as a type of the world, whose attractions she symbolises; and, failing to attract the prosperous servant of God, she becomes his fiercest and most unscrupulous foe. Evil company too often comes with prosperity. But for the God-fearing soul, prosperity tied to evil company cannot last. If he stays faithful, the evil company will destroy the prosperity.
Notice her first move: she calls in witnesses and gives them her story. She never uses Joseph's name. He is "a Hebrew," a foreigner her husband brought in, and she aims the insult at "us" — the whole household.
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out to other men, no doubt servants of the household. She told them Joseph had come in to rape her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So, from the moment it happened, she had witnesses against Joseph who seemed to prove her case.
Joseph never answers back. One writer weighs the choice this left Potiphar:
On the one hand stood the proved, unquestionable trustworthiness of his slave. On the other stood his wife. A woman capable of such an approach must have shown her evil character in many other ways long before, if not in this one. So her word was already doubtful. Still, she was his wife. Her fraud was bold, shameless, and malicious. Yet we hear of no effort on Joseph's part to clear himself by exposing her wickedness. A simple denial of her charge would not stand against a husband's natural anger. Potiphar had no wish to look closely at the terrible alternative.
Joseph's punishment is itself a clue. A slave guilty of attacking his master's wife could expect death, not prison:
The wicked woman's husband evidently did not really believe his wife's foul lie. It was perhaps only to keep up appearances that he made a show of punishing Joseph. If he really believed her story, it is hard to see why he did not have this Hebrew slave put to death at once. He probably knew her character well.
Joseph loses everything for the one act that was right. One writer gives that a name:
So here we see the holy young man resisting the tempter, bearing grief, and suffering wrongfully. And this is grace in the day of trial… Joseph could be no real type of the atonement. But of Christ suffering unjustly and in grace he was a blessed foreshadow.
Another writer takes the picture further, using words from the Psalms:
In all this Joseph is only a type of One whose sufferings were far deeper, just as His glory is far greater… He, too, suffered under the false accusations of the wicked. Again He can say, "They laid to My charge things that I knew not" (Ps. 35:11). He, too, was led to prison and to death.
(The author quotes Psalm 35:11 from an older translation; the ESV reads, "they ask me of things that I do not know.")
- Tempted. The pressure came day after day. Joseph refused, and the refusal cost him everything he had.
- Accused. When temptation failed, persecution took its place. Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will not be held by the bonds of truth.
- Framed. She called in witnesses on the spot and held up the garment, so the case looked conclusive from the first minute.
- Silent. Joseph never exposed her. He lost his freedom for doing right — what the writers call suffering wrongfully, and grace in the day of trial.
- Foreshadowing. A greater One also had things laid to His charge that He knew nothing of, and He too went to prison and to death.
and it came to pass when he heard that I lifted up my voice and cried, that he left his garment with me, and fled and went out.
Joseph has just run from Potiphar's wife, leaving his coat in her hand. Here she calls the servants and turns his escape into a charge of assault, with the coat as her proof.
The garment was in her hand, and Joseph had run outside. Her story keeps both facts and reverses who was chasing whom.
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out for other men, no doubt servants of the household, and told them Joseph had come in with the object of raping her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So from the very moment of the incident, she had a witness against Joseph that seemed conclusive.
The same woman who wanted him now wants him ruined. One writer sees the devil behind both moves.
The temptation came "day by day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent until Joseph "flees" from the temptation and the devil is foiled. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who had earlier cast her evil eyes on Joseph now testifies against him with a lying tongue. As an old writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is nothing new for the best of men to be falsely accused of the worst crimes by those who are themselves the worst of criminals."
Joseph left his coat behind because he would not stay and argue. That can look like weakness. One writer calls it boldness.
In all cases where escape is possible without disloyalty, we are to flee rather than face it. "So flee youthful passions." "Abstain (hold off) from the passions of the flesh." Flee, as Joseph fled; and there was, perhaps, no bolder man.
Joseph kept a clear conscience and lost everything else.
In the end Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience may cost much. Joseph has to exchange the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardships of Pharaoh's prison.
Joseph could have defended himself. His master knew his record. He stayed silent.
We can easily imagine how hard this was for Joseph's master, because of his wife's treachery. On one side stood the proven, unquestionable trustworthiness of his slave. On the other stood a wife capable of such an approach. A woman like that must long have shown her bad character in many ways, even if not in this one, so her word was doubtful. Still, she was his wife. However bold, shameless, and malicious her fraud, we never hear of Joseph trying to clear himself by exposing her wickedness.
One writer sees an early sketch of Christ here. The picture has a limit: it shows unjust suffering, not the atoning death.
Here then we have the holy youth resisting the tempter, and enduring grief, suffering wrongfully… "But if when you do good and suffer for it, you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in His steps. He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but continued entrusting Himself to Him who judges justly." Joseph could be no real type of the atonement; but of Christ's suffering unjustly and in grace he was a blessed foreshadowing.
The accusation works, and Joseph goes to prison. But another hand was at work.
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. He used the first to put Joseph into the dungeon. He used the second to keep him there, through his ungrateful forgetfulness. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding every part of the vast machine of circumstances. When the due time came, He brought forth the man of His purpose and set his feet in a wide, open place.
- Refusal. Joseph would not sin, so he ran. Running, not arguing, was the bold move.
- Revenge. His refusal turned the tempter into the persecutor. The woman who wanted him now lied about him.
- Evidence. The garment made the lie look airtight. From that very moment she had a witness that seemed conclusive.
- Silence. Joseph never exposed her to clear himself. He foreshadowed One who, when reviled, did not revile in return.
- Reversal. The cost was real: comfort traded for a dungeon. But God was behind the scenes, and at the due time He brought out the man of His purpose.
And she laid his garment by her until his lord came home.
Joseph has just torn himself away from his master's wife, and the cloak she grabbed is still in her hands. She keeps it and waits for Potiphar — turning proof of Joseph's escape into proof of a crime he never committed.
Commentators note that she told her story twice — first to the household servants, then to Potiphar. Each time the cloak lay there as proof no one could argue with.
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out for other men, no doubt servants of the household. She told them Joseph had come in to rape her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So from the very moment of the incident, she had a witness against Joseph that seemed conclusive. When Potiphar came home, she told him the same false story. Joseph's garment lay there as apparent proof of her evil accusation.
The same woman who wanted Joseph now wants him ruined. Commentators trace that turn to what lust always does, whether it gets what it wants or not.
Because he kept his eyes on the God no one can see, Joseph pushed back the temptation and came through it unstained. He quietly suffered under the false charge of the shameless woman who tried to seduce him. Clearly this young man did more than resist her pressure. He was also careful not to wound his master by proving the wife's guilty passion and her still guiltier revenge on an innocent man. For lust, whether satisfied or not, soon turns into hatred.
The tempter failed, so he changed tactics. Keeping a clear conscience now cost Joseph dearly.
The temptation came "day by day" (v. 10). The attacks grew more persistent until Joseph "flees" from the temptation and so defeats the devil. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who had once cast her evil eyes on Joseph now testifies against him with a lying tongue. As an older writer said, "The bonds of truth will never hold those who have broken the bonds of modesty. It is nothing new for the worst of criminals to bring false charges of the worst crimes against the best of men." The result is that Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience may cost a great deal. Joseph has to swap the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardship of Pharaoh's prison.
Joseph had every fact on his side. He never used one of them.
We can easily imagine the difficulty the wife's treachery created for Joseph's master. On one side stood the proven, unquestionable trustworthiness of his slave. On the other stood his wife. A woman capable of such a proposition must long have shown her bad character in many ways, even if not in this one. That alone would make her word doubtful. Still, she was his wife. Whatever her bold, shameless, malicious fraud, we hear of no effort by Joseph to clear himself by exposing her wickedness.
Commentators read Joseph's ordeal as a picture of someone greater. He too moved from service to false charges to prison.
In all this Joseph is only a picture of One whose sufferings were far deeper, just as His glory is far greater. During His life on earth He too was among us as One who serves, for He could say, "Man acquired Me as bondman from My youth" (Zechariah 13:5). He too suffered under the false accusations of the wicked. Again He can say, "They laid to My charge things that I knew not" (Psalm 35:11). He too was led to prison and to death.
Two people were used against Joseph in these chapters. Commentators point to a third hand behind the scenes.
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief cupbearer. He used the first to put Joseph into the dungeon. He used the second to keep him there, through ungrateful neglect. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding all the springs of the vast machine of circumstances. When the right time came, He brought out the man of His purpose and set his feet in a large room.
- Refusal. Joseph would not sin, so the woman wanted revenge. The garment he left behind became her proof.
- Reversal. A refused desire does not cool down. Commentators note that lust, satisfied or not, soon turns into hatred.
- Role change. The enemy failed as tempter, so he became persecutor. Joseph kept a clear conscience and lost his freedom.
- Restraint. With the facts on his side, Joseph never defended himself by exposing her — a shadow of the One of whom it was said, "They laid to My charge things that I knew not."
- Rule. Behind the lie and the prison, God was working the machinery of events toward the moment He would bring His man out.
And she spoke to him according to these words, saying, The Hebrew bondman that thou hast brought to us came in to me to mock me;
Potiphar's wife repeats to her husband the story she had already told the servants, and Joseph's cloak lies beside her as proof. She never names him — he is "the Hebrew servant, whom you have brought among us" — so her story blames Potiphar too.
Her accusation was not just her word against his. She had staged it in advance. First she told the household staff, then her husband. And she had the cloak to show.
She saw a chance to get revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out to other men, no doubt servants of the household, and told them Joseph had come in meaning to rape her. She said she cried out, and that he left without his garment. So from the very moment of the incident she had testimony against Joseph, and it seemed conclusive. When Potiphar came home she told him the same false story. Joseph's garment lay there as apparent proof of her evil accusation.
The woman who had pursued Joseph day after day now attacks him with her tongue. Decency had not held her back, and truth would not either.
The temptation came "day by day" (v. 10), and the attacks grew more persistent. Then Joseph "flees" from the temptation, and the devil is foiled. But having failed as the tempter, he now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who had earlier cast her evil eyes on Joseph now bears witness against him with a lying tongue. As an old writer said, "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is nothing new for the best of men to be falsely accused of the worst crimes by those who are themselves the worst of criminals."
Joseph had no way to answer the charge.
Of course Joseph was helpless to do anything. His word, the word of a slave, would mean nothing to Potiphar compared with the word of his wife.
Yet the punishment Potiphar chose is itself a clue. A slave guilty of this crime would not have lived.
The wicked woman's husband evidently did not really believe his wife's foul lie. It was perhaps only to save appearances that he made a show of punishing Joseph. If he really believed her story, it is hard to see why he did not have this Hebrew slave put to death at once. He probably knew her character well.
Joseph goes to prison for the one thing he did right. Peter wrote about that very situation.
By his steadfast refusal he enraged the woman. She invented a cunning story against him. Her husband believed it, and it landed Joseph in prison. But in Joseph's history we are going to see a striking example of what the Apostle Peter wrote in his First Epistle. Peter said, "But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God" (1 Peter 2:20). He was brought low for a moment, but only so that he might be lifted up at the right time.
Joseph suffers though he did no wrong, and that points forward to Christ. One writer also marks the limits of the picture.
Here we have the holy young man resisting the tempter, and bearing grief, suffering wrongfully. This is grace in the day of trial. Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow His steps… Joseph could be no real type of the atonement. But of Christ's suffering unjustly and in grace he was a blessed foreshadowing.
The record never clears Joseph's name. He comes out of prison with the charge still standing.
Nothing was said about the reason he was put in prison. So far as the record goes, he was never cleared of the charge that was falsely brought against him. He evidently left this in the hand of God, who knows how to care for His servant's reputation.
- Refusal. Joseph's "no" is what triggers the accusation — the lie exists only because he stood firm.
- Revenge. Rejected as tempter, the enemy turns persecutor. Whoever breaks the bonds of decency will not keep the bonds of truth.
- Rigged proof. The garment and the servants she had already called made the story look conclusive. A slave's word could not answer it.
- Reversal. God counts it a gracious thing when you suffer for doing good. Joseph is brought low for a moment, then lifted up at the right time.
- Reputation. No one ever clears his name — he leaves it with God, who knows how to care for His servant's reputation.
and it came to pass as I lifted up my voice and cried, that he left his garment with me, and fled forth.
Potiphar's wife repeats to her husband the story she told the servants. Joseph's garment lies beside her as proof. Temptation has turned into slander. What happens to a man who keeps a clear conscience and loses everything for it?
Her account turns on one object: the clothing Joseph left behind as he ran. The sign of his escape becomes the sign of his guilt.
She then saw an opportunity of getting revenge on Joseph because he would not join her in evil. She called out for other men, no doubt servants of the household. She told them Joseph had come in to rape her. She said she cried out, and he left without his garment. So from the very time of the incident, she had testimony against Joseph that seemed conclusive. When Potiphar came home she told him the same false story. Joseph's garment lay there as apparent proof of her evil accusation.
When tempting failed, the attack changed shape. One commentator shows what that change cost Joseph.
But having failed as the tempter, the devil now becomes the persecutor (vv. 13-18). The woman who once cast her evil eyes on Joseph now testifies against him with a lying tongue. As an old writer said: "Those who have broken the bonds of modesty will never be held by the bonds of truth. It is nothing new for the best of men to be falsely accused of the worst crimes by those who are themselves the worst of criminals." The result is that Joseph escapes from a bad woman and keeps a good conscience. But keeping a good conscience may cost much. Joseph has to exchange the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardships of Pharaoh's prison.
Joseph never answers the charge. An answer would have changed nothing.
Of course Joseph was helpless to do anything. His word, the word of a slave, would mean nothing to Potiphar compared with the word of his wife. He was understandably angry with Joseph. He removed him from his high position in Potiphar's house. He also put him in prison with others who were evidently mostly political prisoners of Pharaoh.
Commentators differ on whether Potiphar believed the story. One argues that the punishment itself gives him away:
The husband of this base woman evidently did not really believe his wife's foul lie. It was perhaps only to save appearances that he made a show of punishing Joseph. If he really believed her story, it is hard to see why he should not have had this Hebrew slave put to death at once. He probably knew her character quite well.
Joseph's name is never publicly cleared. One commentator shows where he left the matter.
Nothing was said about the reason for which he was put in prison. So far as the record goes, he was never cleared of the charge that was falsely brought against him. He evidently left this in the hand of God, who knows how to care for His servant's reputation.
The false report lands him in prison, but the prison is not the end of the story.
His steadfast refusal enraged the woman. She invented a cunning story against him. Her husband believed it, and it landed him in prison. But Joseph's history gives a striking illustration of what the apostle Peter wrote in his First Epistle: "But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God" (1 Peter 2:20). He was brought low for a moment, but only that he might be lifted up at the right time.
Joseph was accused of the sin he had refused to commit. One commentator sees more than Joseph here.
In all this Joseph is a picture of One whose sufferings were far deeper. He too suffered under the false accusations of the wicked, for He can say, "They laid to My charge things that I knew not" (Ps. 35:11). He too was led to prison and to death. In full measure He had to meet the base ingratitude of those who had received only good at His hands.
(Psalm 35:11 in the ESV reads, "Malicious witnesses rise up; they ask me of things that I do not know.")
- Refusal. Joseph would not join her in evil, and her revenge began there — the lie is the direct cost of saying no.
- Proof. The garment he left behind as he fled became her evidence. She turned the mark of his innocence into the case against him.
- Cost. He escaped a bad woman and kept a good conscience. That conscience traded the comfort of Potiphar's house for the hardship of Pharaoh's prison.
- Silence. A slave's word counted for nothing against his mistress. The record never clears him. He left his reputation with God.
- Reversal. The prison lasted a moment; the lifting up came at the right time. In his false accusation Joseph pictures Another, charged with things He knew nothing of.
And it came to pass when his lord heard the words of his wife which she spoke to him, saying, After this manner did thy bondman to me, that his wrath was kindled.
One sentence of slander turns a trusted servant into a prisoner. Potiphar's anger flares before anyone weighs the evidence. The chapter opened with a master handing Joseph everything. It ends with that master handing him over. The writers ask where God is while this happens.
Joseph had the truth on his side, and he never used it.
We can easily imagine the difficulty the wife's treachery created for Joseph's master. On one side stood the proved and unquestionable trustworthiness of his slave. On the other stood a wife who could make such a proposal. A woman like that must long have shown her evil character in many ways, even if not in this one, so her word was doubtful. Still, she was his wife. Whatever her bold, shameless and malicious fraud, we hear of no effort by Joseph to clear himself by exposing her wickedness. A simple denial of her charge would not stand against the natural anger of a husband unwilling to look closely into the terrible alternative.
Commentators differ. One writer takes the anger at face value: the husband believed her. Another reads the punishment itself as proof that he did not.
The husband of this shameless woman clearly did not really believe his wife's foul lie. Perhaps he made a show of punishing Joseph only to keep up appearances. If he had believed her story, it is hard to see why he did not have this Hebrew slave put to death at once. He probably knew her character quite well... This is exactly why Pilate was so slow to agree to the crucifixion of "the Lord of glory." He knew the character of His accusers well. He did not believe Him guilty of death.
Potiphar punishes Joseph not for failing, but for refusing.
We may regard Potiphar's wife as a picture of the world and the attractions it holds out. She fails to attract the prosperous servant of God, and so she becomes his most bitter and unscrupulous enemy... How varied is the life of this future witness for God! First he was sold as a slave for carrying his father's love to his brothers. Now his master throws him into prison, because he had honestly guarded his master's property.
Peter has a word for this kind of suffering.
His steadfast refusal enraged the woman. She cunningly made up a story against him, her husband believed it, and it landed him in prison. But in Joseph's history we are going to see a striking example of a word from the Apostle Peter's First Letter. He wrote, "if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God" (1 Peter 2:20). He was brought low for a moment, only so that he might be lifted up in due time.
Joseph has now been wronged twice: first by his family, then by strangers.
In both, Joseph suffered for love and for righteousness' sake. In both, Jehovah stood by His wronged servant, and caused His favour to rest on him even while he suffered... It was hard enough for a free man to be sold into slavery. It was harder still for a godly man to be condemned for a crime that the false accuser had invited him to commit in vain. But Jehovah was with Joseph, and showed him mercy, and gave him favour where it might least have been expected.
Potiphar's anger is the visible cause. The writers point past it to a hand no one could see.
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife to put Joseph into the dungeon. In Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief cupbearer to keep him there, through that man's ungrateful forgetfulness. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding every spring of the vast machine of circumstances. When the right time came, He brought forward the man of His purpose and set his feet in a large room.
Joseph's story traces the outline of Someone else's.
In all this Joseph is only a picture of One whose sufferings were far deeper, just as His glory is far greater. He too suffered under the false accusations of the wicked, for again He can say, "malicious witnesses rise up; they ask me of things that I do not know" (Psalm 35:11). He too was led to prison and to death.
- Lie — one sentence from a guilty woman kindles a master's anger against a servant who had proved himself trustworthy.
- Silence — Joseph never tries to clear himself by exposing her. A bare denial would not survive a husband's anger.
- Cost — the world first tries to attract the faithful servant. When that fails, it becomes his most unscrupulous enemy. Peter calls such suffering for doing good a gracious thing in God's sight.
- Presence — brothers wronged him, then strangers did. One word covers both: the Lord was with Joseph, giving him favour where it was least expected.
- Purpose — Satan used the wife to put Joseph in the dungeon. God was behind the scenes, and He brought forward His man at the right time. It is the pattern of One whose sufferings were deeper still.
And Joseph's lord took him and put him into the tower-house, [the] place where the king's prisoners were confined; and he was there in the tower-house.
Joseph refuses to sin, and it costs him everything he built in Potiphar's house. Yet the verse names the cell he lands in — the one for the king's prisoners — and that address shapes all that follows.
Joseph never answers the charge. One writer weighs the master's dilemma: a slave he had always trusted, and a wife whose word was doubtful.
We can easily imagine the difficulty the wife's treachery created for Joseph's master. On one side stood the proven, unquestionable trustworthiness of his slave. On the other stood a wife who could make such an approach. She must long have shown her evil character in many ways, even if not in this one, so her word was doubtful. Still, she was his wife. Whatever her bold, shameless, and malicious fraud, we hear of no effort on Joseph's part to clear himself by exposing her wickedness. A simple denial of her charge would not stand against a husband's natural anger. He was unwilling to look closely into the terrible alternative.
Commentators differ on Potiphar's state of mind. One reads his anger as real. Another notes that the punishment was light for the crime alleged:
The wicked woman's husband clearly did not really believe his wife's foul lie. It was perhaps only to keep up appearances that he made a show of punishing Joseph. If he really believed her story, it is hard to see why he did not have this Hebrew slave put to death at once. He probably knew her character quite well. That seems to me the only way to explain his great leniency towards Joseph. Pilate was slow to consent to the crucifixion of "the Lord of glory" for the same reason. He knew the character of His accusers well, and did not really believe Him deserving of death.
Genesis says little about the conditions. A psalm fills them in, and the long wearing of prison becomes the real test:
That it was a terrible experience we learn from Psalm 105:18. Speaking of Joseph, it says, "His feet were hurt with fetters; his neck was put in a collar of iron." The margin of the Bible says, "Hebrew: his soul came into iron." Do we not have a saying in English, "The iron entered his soul"? Nothing is more depressing than captivity like that, day after day, night after night, summer and winter, year in and year out. The weariness, discomfort, sameness and hopelessness of it is a great test. Under that test character will either collapse or show itself. Trials make or mar a person.
(An older translation reads, "he was laid in iron.")
The verse names which prison. That one detail is the hinge of all that follows:
Pending a decision in the matter, they were confined in the same prison as Joseph, and put in his charge. God ordered the chain of events. The first link was Joseph's placing where the king's prisoners were confined. The second was that these two men came there in due time.
These events have two sides. Behind Potiphar's wife stands an enemy. Behind the enemy stands God:
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. The first he used to put Joseph into the dungeon; the second he used to keep him there, through his ungrateful neglect. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding all the springs of the vast machine of circumstances. When the time was right, He brought out the man of His purpose and set his feet in a wide, open place.
The verse ends with Joseph simply there. His address changed; the one thing that mattered did not:
God was with Joseph and showed him mercy… Before this, in Potiphar's home, God made everything go well. Now, while Joseph was in the prison, God did the same. It is much better to live in a prison with God than to live in a king's house without Him.
One writer sees the same shape in Christ — blessing given, blessing refused, and the one who blessed condemned:
With Joseph in it, the house of the Egyptian is blessed by God. But with Christ ministering in it, how beyond words was the world blessed!… Yet it did not turn man's heart to God. False witness casts Joseph into Pharaoh's prison, where everything again comes under his hand. Under false accusation the Lord descends into a darker prison-house, and as a result He shows Himself Master of all there.
- Accused — a slave's word could not stand against his mistress's, so Joseph never tried to expose her.
- Spared — the sentence was prison, not death. Potiphar likely never believed the charge; he was keeping up appearances.
- Chained — Psalm 105 shows the cost was real: fetters, iron, and years of sameness that either make or break a person.
- Placed — the verse names the king's prison. That address is the first link in a chain that runs to the butler, to Pharaoh, and to the throne.
- Prospered — Satan put him in and kept him there, but God was behind the scenes. Better a prison with God than a palace without Him.
And Jehovah was with Joseph, and extended mercy to him, and gave him favour in the eyes of the chief of the tower-house.
Joseph has just been thrown into the king's prison on a false charge. The verse answers that injustice not with rescue but with a Person, and commentators ask why God's steadfast love reached Joseph inside the cell instead of lifting him out.
Earlier the same chapter said the LORD was with Joseph in Potiphar's house. It says it again here, after Joseph has lost everything he had. One writer shows what that repeat means.
Once again he comes into suffering. Once again he is misrepresented and slandered, though he deserves none of it, and thrown quickly into the dungeon. But Jehovah was with Joseph in the prison, just as much as in Potiphar's house. It mattered little where he was, since Jehovah was with him. What a difference it makes when God is with us — and God in that special relationship His people know, which the name "Jehovah" carries here as everywhere.
William Kelly (his translation reads "Jehovah" where the ESV has "the LORD")
The verse does not leave God's kindness as a feeling. It names the shape it took.
The Lord was with him as much in the time and place of his trouble as He had been in the days when he did well in Potiphar's house and estate. As a result He showed mercy to him. That mercy took the form of bringing him into the favour of the keeper of the prison, who clearly held absolute power within his own limited area.
Which prison it was mattered too.
He was put into that particular prison, "the place where the king's prisoners were confined." This proved to be a link in the chain of circumstances that connected him with ultimate triumph. Had it been another prison he would never have met the butler and baker who had offended the king.
God's favour did not cancel the suffering. Psalm 105 fills in what Genesis leaves unsaid about those years.
We learn how terrible this experience was from Psalm 105:18. Speaking of Joseph, it says, "his feet were hurt with fetters; his neck was put in a collar of iron." The margin of the Bible says, "his soul came into iron." Nothing is more depressing than captivity like that — day after day, night after night, summer and winter, year in and year out. The weariness, discomfort, sameness and hopelessness of it is a great test. Under it character either collapses or comes out.
Long injustice often makes a man bitter. Joseph stayed useful instead, and the jailer could see it.
How good it is that everyone who suffers for righteousness' sake will have the Lord's gracious sympathy. He will not give him up to self-pity and depression. The chief jailer of course saw that Joseph was an honorable man, not a common criminal. He soon trusted Joseph with unusual responsibilities for a prisoner. We are told again that the Lord was with Joseph and made whatever he did prosper. It may seem strange that this could be true of a prisoner, but it does show that Joseph was not a negative man, but positive and faithful.
Two people stood behind Joseph's imprisonment. Neither of them was in charge.
Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and later he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. The first he used to put Joseph into the dungeon; the second he used to keep him there, through his ungrateful forgetfulness. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding every spring of the vast machine of circumstances. When the right time came, He brought out the man He had purposed and set that man's feet in a large room.
Joseph had known a fine house without freedom, and now a cell with God in it.
Before this in Potiphar's home, God made everything go well. Now while Joseph was in the prison, God did the same. It is much better to live in a prison with God, than to live in a king's house without Him.
One writer sees more here than Joseph's own story.
Joseph had now tasted the bitterness of both the pit and the prison. Taken together they foreshadow Christ going down into death because of the hatred of men. But there the power of His hand was felt.
- Presence first. The same words cover the mansion and the dungeon. The LORD was with Joseph in both, so the place mattered little.
- Presence shows. God's mercy took a visible form. It gave Joseph favour with the keeper of the prison, who held total power in his own small world.
- Presence positions. He was in the one prison that held the king's offenders, the link that connected him with his later triumph.
- Presence preserves. Fetters and years of sameness test a man's character. The Lord's sympathy kept Joseph from self-pity and depression.
- Presence prevails. One woman put him in. One ungrateful man kept him there. Both failed, because God was behind the scenes and brought out His man at the right time.
And the chief of the tower-house committed to Joseph's hand all the prisoners that were in the tower-house; and whatever they had to do there he did.
Joseph sits in the king's prison on a false charge, and yet the jailer hands him the keys. Why would a jailer trust a convicted slave, and what was God doing in a place that looked like the end of Joseph's story?
What happened in Potiphar's house happens again behind bars. Responsibility keeps landing in Joseph's hands.
Placed in servitude, he became the one who ran his master's house. Cast down into prison, once more all things fall into his hands. The prisoner in chains becomes the ruler of the prison. The official keeper of the prison found such a treasure in him that he gave him full powers. He "paid no attention to anything that was in Joseph's charge, because the LORD was with him. And whatever he did, the LORD made it succeed."
Potiphar and the jailer reached the same verdict about Joseph. One writer traces both to the same cause.
That "God was with him" is what marks his condition, and he had plenty of evidence of it. A change of scene changes nothing here. As soon as he is in prison, we read the same record of him and see the same circumstances around him. The keeper of the prison puts the same confidence in him that Potiphar his master had. Under his hand in the prison all things prosper, as they had in the Egyptian's house. So Joseph had full witness from God that God was enough for him.
The man trusted with the prison carried no grudge. One writer draws out what is missing from Joseph's record.
Reading the story, we cannot miss one thing: he was a submissive man. His circumstances were hard and his position was trying. He was cut off from his relatives, a stranger in a foreign land. He had passed from the love of his father's home to slavery in the Egyptian's house, yet there is no complaining. He holds no bitter thoughts against his brothers. He makes no complaint about his hard lot, and not a single rebellious word against the ways of God.
Joseph does not treat prison as dead time. One writer turns this into a rule, with a warning about our hurry to be delivered.
The person who really leans on God improves the circumstances of trial he is in, whether they are temporary or permanent. No adverse circumstances can crush real living energy; they may limit and shape it... And Joseph is soon found to be as useful in prison as he was in the house of the captain of the guard... In every trial, however dark, there are gleams of light and relief. But full deliverance is often delayed by our anxiety to get it. God is to be the satisfaction of His servant, not the deliverance. So the deliverance is often postponed until we have no prospect or expectation of it.
Commentators read Joseph, falsely accused and yet master of his prison, as a picture of someone greater.
With Joseph in it, God blesses the house of the Egyptian. But with Christ serving in it, how beyond words the world was blessed!... Even this did not turn man's heart to God. False witness casts Joseph into Pharaoh's prison, where, however, all things come into his hand. Under a false accusation the Lord goes down into a darker prison-house, and there He shows Himself Master of all.
The prison his enemies chose for him became the place where God's purpose moved forward.
Notice the trial of Joseph and his righteous suffering in Egypt. They were meant to frustrate God's purpose and looked dead against it, yet they only brought about the very thing they seemed to prevent. His brothers sold him into Egypt, and Potiphar put him in prison. It was there that he met the cupbearer and the baker, and that meeting set him as governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot push God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
- Presence. Across Potiphar's house and the king's prison, one thing never changed: the Lord was with Joseph.
- Submission. No complaint, no bitterness toward his brothers, no rebellious word about God's ways. Others came to trust a man like that.
- Usefulness. A man leaning on God improves the circumstances he is stuck in. Joseph was as useful in prison as in Potiphar's house.
- Patience. God means to be the satisfaction of His servant, not just his rescuer. So rescue often waits until we stop expecting it.
- Purpose. The prison was not a detour but the road. The cell led to the cupbearer, and the cupbearer to the throne. Joseph points to the Lord, who entered a darker prison and came out its Master.
The chief of the tower-house looked not to anything under his hand, because Jehovah was with him; and what he did, Jehovah made it prosper.
Genesis 39 ends where it began — with a man who has lost everything and still has the one thing that matters. Joseph is a slave, then a convict on a false charge. Yet the chapter's closing line explains his whole life with one reason, and that reason is not his talent.
The verse does not say the jailer trusted Joseph because Joseph earned it. It gives a cause outside of Joseph altogether. The name used for God here matters too: "the LORD" in modern versions, "Jehovah" in older ones.
Here again he comes into suffering. Here again men wrongly misrepresent and slander him, and rush him into the dungeon. But Jehovah was with Joseph in the prison, just as much as in Potiphar's house. Verse 2 says, He was with Joseph. Verse 21 says again, He was with Joseph, "and showed him mercy, and gave him favour in the sight of the keeper of the prison." It mattered little where he was, since Jehovah was with him. What a difference it makes when God is with us — God in the special, known relationship that the name "Jehovah" implies here and everywhere.
Joseph's surroundings changed completely between chapter 39's opening and its close. The result did not change at all, and that repetition was itself a message to him.
As soon as he is in Potiphar's house, everything under his hand, committed to him by his master, prospers. And a change of scene works no change in this; for as soon as he is in prison, we read the same record of him, and see the same circumstances around him. The keeper of the prison puts the same confidence in him that his master Potiphar had; and under his hand in the prison all things prosper, as they had in the Egyptian's house. So Joseph had full witness from God that God was sufficient for him.
The keeper "paid no attention to anything" — a strange thing to say about a man in charge of the king's prisoners. The verse before explains why: he had handed everything over.
So we find everything in the prison "committed to Joseph's hand." The record makes the extraordinary statement that "whatever they did there, he was the doer of it." The young man thrown in as a prisoner becomes the super-efficient deputy of the jailer, and ends up controlling the whole place! We wonder whether any prison has seen anything close to this since that day. The keeper had no work and no worry left. He no doubt took the salary, and Joseph did the work.
Joseph was in that cell because he refused to sin. The Lord's care there reached his feelings, not only his work.
How good it is that everyone who suffers for righteousness' sake will have the gracious sympathy of the Lord! He will not give him up to self-pity and depression... It may seem strange that this could be true of a prisoner, but it does show that Joseph was not of a negative character, but positive and faithful.
Joseph suffered twice over, and men who shared none of his faith could see how he held up.
His brothers' cruelty was unnatural, and it ended in his slavery. Worse still was the new trial that came through a guilty woman. In both Joseph suffered, for love and for righteousness' sake. In both Jehovah stood by His wronged servant, and made His favour rest on him even while he suffered... Violence did not overcome him, and neither did corruption. He overcame evil with good. People who did not know God saw it, even if the evil state of his brothers blinded them for a while... Slaves and criminals do not, in themselves, win the approval of their guardians, as everyone knows.
The pit and the prison together cast a shadow forward. Joseph's hand in Potiphar's house and his hand in the dungeon point to two different things.
He had now tasted the bitterness of both pit and prison. Taken together they foreshadow Christ going down into death as a result of the malice of man. But there the power of His hand was felt. The skill of Joseph's hand in the house of Potiphar may remind us of the mighty hand of Christ in His matchless life. But in the closing verses of our chapter we see pictured the power of His mighty hand in the dark domain of death.
Put the chapter's two places side by side. The verse gives a plain rule for weighing any situation.
He did not look to anything that was under his hand, because God was with Joseph and made all that he did to go well. Before this, in Potiphar's home, God made everything go well. Now, while Joseph was in the prison, God did the same. It is much better to live in a prison with God than to live in a king's house without Him.
- Cause — The verse gives one explanation for Joseph's whole story, and it is not his ability: the Lord was with him.
- Constant — The same record follows Joseph into the great house and into the dungeon. A change of place changed nothing.
- Character — Suffering for doing right did not turn him bitter or passive. He overcame evil with good, and people who did not know God could see it.
- Charge — The prisoner ended up running the prison. The keeper checked nothing he had handed over.
- Christ — Pit and prison foreshadow the One who went down into death. His hand proved mighty even there.
And it came to pass after these things, [that] the cup-bearer of the king of Egypt and the baker offended their lord the king of Egypt.
Two of Pharaoh's officers fall out of favour with him. They land in the very prison that holds Joseph. The verse says nothing about their crime, and nothing about God. Yet everything that follows for Joseph turns on this moment.
Scripture leaves the crime blank. One writer suggests why Pharaoh would suspect these two men in particular, then counts the moves God was making:
Both the chief butler and the chief baker of Pharaoh had offended their lord. Nothing is stated about the nature of their offence. But Pharaoh was of a foreign race, and so likely to fear that someone would try to poison him. It is not surprising that the two men in charge of his drink and his food had both fallen under suspicion. While the matter awaited a decision, they stayed in the same prison as Joseph, and were put in his charge. The first link in the chain of events God ordered was that Joseph should be put in the place where the king's prisoners were held. The second was that in due time these two men should be placed there too.
Nothing here looks like God at work. Yet God is steering the whole episode:
The hand of God was in all this, however little it looked like it. In the king's prison house were two servants of Pharaoh, his chief baker and chief butler.
That hidden work went further than Joseph's release. It never included clearing his name:
In this account of the imprisonment of Joseph and the butler and the baker, God was at work in grace behind the scenes. He worked both to bring Joseph out of prison and to lift him up in a way that would normally have been unthinkable for a Hebrew... Nothing was said about the reason he had been put in prison. As far as the record goes, he was never cleared of the charge falsely brought against him. He evidently left this in the hand of God, who knows how to guard His servant's reputation.
Joseph answers each drop in status the same way. He serves wherever he lands.
Joseph had served as a slave in Potiphar's house. Now he served as a criminal in the tower-house, falsely accused of what was true of his accuser. But his faith stayed simple, peaceful and bright. We notice its effect on those who had no faith themselves, yet valued faithfulness highly. The captain put Joseph in charge of the king's officers. In his master's house before, and now in the governor's state prison, he became the responsible man: whatever needed doing there, he did it. The Lord was with him in each place of trial; and whatever he did, the Lord made it prosper.
The two men arrive together and are jailed together. One writer sees here a picture of what happens where Christ comes among people:
Here were two men in the same place of confinement. Both stood condemned, and so far as we know both were equally guilty — or innocent. They looked exactly alike in every outward way. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
Another writer compares the two officers with the men executed beside Jesus. The difference is not the suffering but the guilt:
And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief butler and his chief baker. But they do not suffer as Joseph does. He suffered though he was innocent. They were most likely receiving the due reward of their deeds, like the two thieves crucified with Christ. Joseph was ruler in the dungeon, and the verdict of his fellow prisoners' conscience must have been, "This man has done nothing wrong."
The story turns here. Joseph, wronged and jailed, becomes the man who tells others what God has decided about them:
The righteous Joseph is charged with the sin his accuser was guilty of. The Gentile authority treats him as a criminal. His feet are put in the stocks, and the iron enters his soul. He is handed over to the Gentiles, and by them symbolically put to death. There he is the interpreter of restoring blessing and of fatal judgment. Earlier, the Lord's plan spoke of Messiah's rise to the highest place among His own Jewish people, and of His exaltation in principle. Here rejection and death come in — and with them the Lord's mind in saving and condemning the guilty, according to His true purposes.
- Offence — Two officers anger their king. Scripture never says how. What matters is not their crime but where it lands them.
- Link — Their arrival in Joseph's prison is the second link in a chain God ordered. The first link was Joseph's own arrival there.
- Service — Slave, then criminal: Joseph keeps doing whatever needs doing. The Lord makes it prosper in each place of trial.
- Separation — The two men look alike in every outward way until Joseph speaks. Then one is saved and one is lost.
- Purpose — From a cell the innocent sufferer announces blessing and judgment. God guards his reputation, though the record never clears his name.
And Pharaoh was wroth with his two chamberlains -- with the chief of the cup-bearers and with the chief of the bakers;
Two of Egypt's most senior officials fall out of favour. The king's anger lands them in the prison where Joseph is already held. Why does Scripture pause over a palace quarrel — and what was God doing inside it?
The text never says what the two men did wrong. One writer points out that the offence mattered less than the anger it provoked:
Two men are now committed to Joseph's care in the prison, the cupbearer and the baker of Pharaoh, king of Egypt. We are not told what offences they were imprisoned for, but they had incurred Pharaoh's anger, and that was enough.
Another writer finds a likely reason in the offices these men held. They handled what the king drank and ate:
Both the chief butler and the chief baker of Pharaoh had offended their lord. Nothing is stated about the nature of their offence. But Pharaoh belonged to a foreign race, so he was likely to fear that someone would poison him. It is not surprising, then, that the two men in charge of his drink and his food had both fallen under suspicion.
Read on its own, the arrest is palace politics. Read as part of the story, it is a move in something larger. The same writer counts the steps:
Until their case was decided, they were held in the same prison as Joseph and put in his charge. God ordered a chain of events. The first link was Joseph being put in the place where the king's prisoners were bound. The second was that in due time these two men should be placed there too.
One writer traces the path and finds that every wrong done to Joseph was carrying him forward:
See how the trial of Joseph turned out. Divine ordering limited it from anything that would hinder it. It was intended to frustrate God's purpose, and seemed completely against it. Yet that trial and his righteous suffering in Egypt only brought about the very thing they seemed to frustrate. It was the Egypt his brothers sold him into, and the prison Potiphar put him in, that led him to the butler and baker — and that made him governor over all the land of Egypt. We cannot put God out of His way. It is better to trust Him.
One writer looks behind the human actors and sees two powers at work — one scheming, one ruling:
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. The first he used to put Joseph into the dungeon; the second he used to keep him there, through his ungrateful neglect. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding all the springs of the vast machine of circumstances, and when the right time came, He brought forth the man of His purpose and set his feet in a large room.
Pharaoh's anger brought two noblemen down to a prisoner's level, and that prisoner served them:
Joseph had served as a slave in Potiphar's house. Now he served as a criminal in the tower-house, falsely accused of what was true of his accuser. But his faith stayed simple, peaceful and bright. We notice its effect on people who had no faith themselves, yet valued faithfulness highly. The captain gave him the care of the king's officers. As before in his master's house, so now in the governor's state prison, he became the responsible agent: whatever was to be done there, he did it. The Lord was with him in each place of trial, and whatever he did, the Lord made it prosper.
The two men arrive together and share one sentence. One writer shows how alike they look:
Here were two men in the same place of imprisonment, both condemned. As far as we know they were equally guilty — or innocent — exactly alike in every outward appearance. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
Another writer sees the same pairing as a picture of the cross:
So in Joseph in prison we see the suffering Christ. And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief butler and his chief baker. But they do not suffer as Joseph does. He suffered though innocent. They, in all likelihood, were receiving the due reward of their deeds, like the two thieves crucified with Christ.
- Anger — Scripture never records the offence, only the king's anger. For these two men, that anger alone decided everything.
- Link — Joseph in the king's prison was the first link in a chain God ordered. These two officers arriving there was the second.
- Hand — Satan used Potiphar's wife to put Joseph in the dungeon, and Pharaoh's butler to keep him there. It was all in vain. God was behind the scenes, and at the right time He brought out the man of His purpose.
- Service — Set to serve fallen noblemen, Joseph did whatever needed doing. The Lord was with him there, as in Potiphar's house, and made his work prosper.
- Division — Two prisoners look identical in guilt and circumstance. Joseph comes among them, and one is pronounced saved, the other lost.
and he put them in custody into the house of the captain of the life-guard, into the tower-house, into the place where Joseph was imprisoned.
Two of Pharaoh's officials anger the king, and he jails them where Joseph is already held on a false charge. The verse looks like a small note about prison arrangements, yet it is the first link in a chain that will lift Joseph out of that dungeon.
The text never says what the butler and the baker did wrong. One writer suggests a reason, and then sees the timing as no accident:
Both the chief butler and the chief baker of Pharaoh had offended their lord. We are not told what their offence was. But Pharaoh was of a foreign race, and so he was likely to fear that someone would poison him. No wonder both the chief keepers of his drink and his food had fallen under suspicion. While the king decided what to do, he confined them in the same prison as Joseph and put them in his charge. In the chain of events God ordered, the first link was Joseph being put in the place where the king's prisoners were bound. The second link was that in due time these two men were placed there too.
The prison stood in the captain of the guard's own house, but it was no light place. One writer weighs what a long stretch there does to a man:
Have we not a saying in English, "The iron entered his soul"? Nothing is more depressing than captivity like that — day after day, night after night, summer and winter, year in and year out. The utter weariness, discomfort, sameness and hopelessness of it is a great test. Under it a character either collapses or shows what it is. Trials make or mar a man. They prove what a man is made of.
The hands that put Joseph in prison could not keep him there. One writer names two of them, and points to who was working behind both:
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. The first he used to put Joseph into the dungeon; the second he used to keep him there, through his ungrateful forgetfulness — but all in vain. God was behind the scenes. His finger was guiding all the springs of the vast machine of circumstances. When the right time came, He brought out the man of His purpose and set his feet in a large room.
The verse puts Joseph at the bottom. The chapter soon puts him in charge of the two new prisoners, and this had happened to him once before:
Joseph had served as a slave in Potiphar's house. Now he served as a criminal in the tower-house, falsely accused of what was true of his accuser. But his faith stayed simple, peaceful and bright. We can see its effect on men who had no faith themselves, yet highly valued faithfulness. The captain put Joseph in charge of the king's officials. In his master's house, and now in the governor's state prison, he became the responsible man. Whatever needed doing there, he did it.
Writers see in this shared cell a picture of Christ between two criminals:
So in Joseph in prison we see the suffering Christ. And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief butler and his chief baker. But they do not suffer as Joseph does. He suffered though he was innocent. They, most likely, were receiving the "due reward of their deeds," like the two thieves crucified with Christ. Joseph was ruler in the dungeon. The verdict of his fellow prisoners' conscience must have been, "This man has done nothing wrong."
The two men look the same. Joseph's word is what separates them:
Here were two men in the same prison, both condemned alike. As far as we know they were equally guilty — or equally innocent. They looked just alike in every outward way. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
- Link one. God puts Joseph where the king's prisoners are bound — the first link in a chain that ends with God bringing him out.
- Link two. Pharaoh sends the butler and baker to that same prison, under suspicion over his food and drink, and puts them in Joseph's care.
- Behind the links. Satan used a woman to jail Joseph and a butler to forget him. But God was behind the scenes, guiding every spring of it.
- Under the links. Iron and hopelessness test a man. Sameness and weariness either collapse a character or bring it out.
- Through the links. The innocent man jailed with the guilty becomes their servant. His word then divides them — one saved, one lost.
And the captain of the life-guard appointed Joseph to them, that he should attend on them. And they were [several] days in custody.
Joseph is in prison on a false charge. The captain of the guard now puts two of Pharaoh's senior officials in his care, and that small arrangement becomes the next link in a chain God is ordering.
Two things in this verse stay open. We are not told why these men were jailed, and we cannot be sure who the captain was.
Two men are now placed in Joseph's care in the prison: the cupbearer and the baker of Pharaoh, king of Egypt. We are not told what offenses put them there. They had made Pharaoh angry, and that was enough. The captain of the bodyguard handed them over to Joseph. We may wonder whether this captain was Potiphar, who holds this position in Genesis 39:1, but there may well have been more than one captain.
What reads like a routine prison assignment was one step in a sequence, and the order of the steps mattered.
While their case waited for a decision, they were held in the same prison as Joseph and put in his charge. The first link in this chain of events, ordered by God, was that Joseph should be in the place where the king's prisoners were held. The second was that at the right time these two men should be placed there too.
Joseph had already run a household as a slave. In prison, accused of a crime, he is given the same kind of charge.
Joseph had served as a slave in Potiphar's house. Now he served as a criminal in the prison tower, falsely accused of what was in fact true of his accuser. But his faith stayed simple, peaceful and bright. We can see its effect on men who had no faith themselves, yet set a high value on faithfulness. The captain put the king's officials in Joseph's care. As in his master's house before, so now in the governor's state prison, he became the man in charge: whatever needed doing there, he did it. The LORD was with him in each place of trial, and what he did, the LORD made it prosper.
The setting changed; Joseph's usefulness did not. One writer explains why, and why full rescue often comes slowly.
The man who truly leans on God makes good use of the trial he is in, whether it is short or lasting. No hard circumstances can crush true living energy. They may limit it and shape it. The scene may change, but the spirit of it does not. … Before long Joseph is as useful in prison as he was in the house of the captain of the guard. … In every trial, however dark, there are gleams of light and relief. But full deliverance is often delayed by our own anxiety to get it. God means to be the satisfaction of His servant, not the deliverance.
Joseph's care for these two men went beyond duty. He was in chains himself, and their sadness still reached him.
Each of them had a dream fitted to his own case on the same night, yet they learned so little from it that the next morning both showed the same sadness to their kind and sympathetic attendant. He was in irons himself; but love rose above the evil, and flowed out freely.
His kindness was repaid with silence. The cupbearer walked free and said nothing.
With the remarkable good sense that marks his character, he had begged not to be forgotten. But he stayed in irons a little longer. The word of the LORD tested him. God would work in His own way. If the chief cupbearer forgot Joseph once life went well for him, God did not.
One writer sees more than history here. Joseph is placed alongside two condemned men, and the difference between him and them is the point.
So in Joseph in prison we see the suffering Christ. And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief butler and his chief baker. But they do not suffer as Joseph does. He suffered though he was innocent. They, in all likelihood, were receiving the "due reward of their deeds," like the two thieves crucified with Christ. Joseph was ruler in the dungeon, and the verdict of his fellow prisoners' conscience must have been, "This man has done nothing wrong."
- Assigned. The captain puts two of Pharaoh's officials under Joseph's care. Why they were jailed, and who this captain was, the verse never says.
- Linked. Joseph's imprisonment was the first link in a chain God was ordering. These two men arriving was the second.
- Unchanged. House or prison, Joseph is the man in charge — whatever needed doing, he did it, and God made it prosper.
- Satisfied. A man who leans on God makes good use of the trial he is in. God means to satisfy His servant Himself, not only to rescue him.
- Remembered. His love flowed out to men who would forget him — but if the cupbearer forgot Joseph, God did not.
And they dreamed a dream, both of them in one night, each his dream, each according to the interpretation of his dream, the cup-bearer and the baker of the king of Egypt, who were imprisoned in the tower-house.
Two disgraced court officials share a prison with a forgotten Hebrew slave. In one night each man dreams, and each dream carries its own meaning. Why trouble the sleep of two pagan servants, and why in that cell?
Both men dreamed on the same night, and each dream fitted the man who dreamed it. Joseph read that as design, not luck.
That both should have dreamt characteristic dreams in one night he did not put down to what men call chance. They felt by instinct that the dreams were of the nearest interest to themselves, and no interpreter was there to explain them. If that made them sad, Joseph just as simply reckoned that interpretations belong to God, the giver of every good gift and of every perfect giving.
God is not at work only among His own people. He is at work inside Egyptian homes, and in Egyptian sleep.
God visits the family circle of a pagan captain, and the household of a pagan king — yes, and his bedside. He makes the very visions of his head upon his bed serve the working out of His counsels. And it is not only people and their circumstances that God takes up and uses for His ends. He brings Egypt and all the surrounding countries into the scene too. In short, God's hand prepared the whole earth to be a stage on which to display the glory and greatness of the one "who was set apart from his brothers."
Dreams run through this whole history, and each one carried a message about the future.
Dreams played a remarkably large part in his history. Before the climax, the record gives no less than five, and every one of them contained a prophecy. The finger of God produced each of them, touching the sleeper's unconscious mind. Each marked a divine intervention — indeed a revelation of secret things.
That does not make every dream a message. Commentators mark the difference between then and now.
In the ages before Moses there was no written revelation of His will. God often took this way to communicate His mind, or to reveal coming events beforehand… Now we have His written revelation, the completed Bible. Only in very rare and exceptional cases can we recognise a dream as having come from God. "For a dream comes with much business" (Ecclesiastes 5:3) — that is, from purely natural causes, Scripture says.
This night of dreams is one step in an ordered series.
God ordered a chain of events. The first link was that Joseph should be in the place where the king's prisoners were bound. The second was that in due time these two men should be placed there too. The third was that both men should have dreams in one night, unusual in kind yet marked by certain resemblances. Their effect on the two minds should be such as to make them look sad and attract Joseph's notice.
Joseph's trial went on while God forged that chain.
God had tried His dear child, and would try him longer. Yet this was an honour to Joseph, who was given not only to believe but to suffer for His sake. But God was forming the chain of links that would raise the suffering Israelite out of the dungeon. It would lift him to the highest position in Egypt, next to the throne. The dream of the chief cup-bearer was an important link in that chain.
The dreams left both men uneasy and no wiser. Joseph carried the deeper hurt, yet he was the one who noticed theirs.
Joseph's own dreams had disclosed much while he was a young free man in his father's house, and they drew out the envious spite of his brothers. Now grace gave him the opportunity of light from above on the dreams of his fellow-prisoners. Each had a fitting dream the same night, but they learned so little from it. The next morning their faces showed the same sadness to their gracious and sympathetic attendant. His own suffering had cut deep into him; but love rose above evil, and flowed out readily.
Commentators read this scene as a picture of Christ, and of where true wisdom was found.
In all this Joseph pictured Christ, who shone to the eye of faith in His humiliation with a grace even beyond glory. He was clearly the wisdom of God. Human wisdom, next to Him, proved itself utterly weak, foolish and malicious.
- Bedside — God reached into a pagan king's household and used the visions of men on their beds to advance His plans.
- No chance — two fitting dreams in one night were not luck. Interpretations belong to God, and Joseph read the night as His work.
- Link — Joseph in that prison, the two officials sent there, then the dreams. Each is a link in one chain that runs from the dungeon to a place next to the throne.
- Sadness — the dreams left both men troubled and no wiser. The wronged prisoner was the one whose love flowed out first.
- Then and now — before the written Scriptures God often spoke through dreams. Now the Bible is complete, and a dream from God is a rare exception.
And Joseph came in to them in the morning, and looked on them, and behold, they were sad.
Joseph is in prison for a crime he never committed. Two of Pharaoh's officials have just been thrown in beside him. This verse catches him at daybreak, noticing the look on their faces. That small act of attention turns his whole future.
We are never told what the butler and the baker did wrong. Their jobs suggest a reason. One writer sets their arrival in a chain God was arranging.
Pharaoh's chief cupbearer and his chief baker had both offended their master. Nothing is said about what they did wrong. But Pharaoh came of a foreign race, so he was likely to fear an attempt on his life by poison. No wonder the two men in charge of his drink and his food fell under suspicion. Until the case was decided, they were held in the same prison as Joseph, and put in his charge. The first link in the chain of events God had ordered was that Joseph should be put where the king's prisoners were held. The second was that in due time these two men should be put there too.
The same writer counts the troubled faces of this verse as the next link in that chain:
The third was that both men should have dreams on the same night. The dreams were strange, yet alike in certain ways. They affected the men's minds so much that they looked sad, and Joseph noticed it.
Joseph had every reason to think only of his own case. What he did instead shows the kind of man he was.
The common idea of Joseph seems to be this: everyone would say he was a good young man, but they would mean a "goody" young man, and a bit soft. Read his history with ordinary attention, though, and you trace a character that is nothing of the kind. It is strong, wise, noble, generous, manly and big-hearted… When he is punished for his honourable conduct by being thrown into the dungeon, his words to his fellow-prisoners are, "Do not interpretations belong to God?" He did not complain under that great trouble. He looked around to see what he could do to help others, even his jailers. He could not see his companions in misery losing heart without asking, "Why are your faces downcast today?"
Their sadness was not simply prison gloom. They had dreamed, and they sensed that the dreams carried a verdict they could not read.
They are sad because they do not understand their dreams. They seem to have felt that their dreams were somehow connected with their destiny. And because they are not sure what that destiny is to be, they are "sad." And well they might be. And some of you are sad tonight for the same reason — you do not know your destiny. Many more ought to be sad, and are not. You do not know that you are saved, and so you do not know where you will spend eternity. While that question stays unsettled, it is folly to be anything but sad.
Each man had a dream fitted to him on the same night, and still they learned nothing from it. Joseph had once had dreams of his own, and now grace used him to open theirs.
Joseph's own dreams had revealed much while he was a young free man in his father's house, and they drew out the envious spite of his brothers. Now grace gave him the opportunity of light from above on the dreams of his fellow-prisoners. Each man had a dream fitted to him on the same night, yet they learned so little from it that their faces showed the same sadness to their gracious and sympathetic attendant the next morning. He himself had felt the iron; but love rose above the evil, and flowed out readily.
Joseph's care for two worried men was not a one-off. He did the same in every place he landed.
The one who really leans on God improves the circumstances of trial he is in, whether they are temporary or permanent. No hostile circumstances can crush true living energy; they may limit and shape it. The scene may change, but not the spirit of it… Joseph too was soon as useful in prison as he had been in the house of the captain of the guard… In every trial, however gloomy, there are gleams of light and relief. But full deliverance is often delayed by our anxiety to get it. God is to be the satisfaction of His servant, and not the deliverance.
- Chain — Joseph's imprisonment, the officials' arrest and their troubled faces were links God was arranging. No one in that cell could see where the chain led.
- Morning — Joseph did not complain about his own trouble. He looked around for someone to help, even his jailers.
- Sadness — The two men were downcast because they felt their dreams held their destiny, and they could not read it. Many people carry the same unsettled question about eternity.
- Love — He had felt the iron himself, yet love rose above the evil and flowed out readily to men who could not read their own dreams.
- Usefulness — A person who leans on God improves the trial he is in. The scene may change, but not the spirit of it. And God Himself, not release, is meant to satisfy His servant.
And he asked Pharaoh's chamberlains that were with him in custody in his lord's house, saying, Why are your faces [so] sad to-day?
A false charge has put Joseph in an Egyptian prison, where two of Pharaoh's servants come under his care. He sees their sad faces and asks why — a small question that turns the whole story.
Joseph had already served well in one house and lost it. In prison the pattern repeats: his place changes, his faith does not.
Joseph had served as a slave in Potiphar's house. Now he served as a criminal in the prison tower, falsely accused of what was true of his accuser. But his faith remained simple, peaceful, and bright. We note its effect on those who had no faith themselves, yet valued faithfulness highly. The captain put the king's officers in his care. As before in his master's house, so now in the governor's prison, he became the man in charge: whatever needed doing there, he did it. The Lord was with him in each place of trial, and the Lord made what he did prosper.
The verse shows Joseph reading faces. One writer uses this to correct the common picture of Joseph as a soft, passive young man.
Read the history with ordinary attention, and we can trace a character far from soft or weak. At heart it is strong, wise, noble, generous, manly and big-hearted… Punished for his honourable conduct with the dungeon, he says to his fellow prisoners, "Do not interpretations belong to God?" He did not complain under that great disaster. Instead he looks around to see what he can do to help others, even his jailers. He cannot see his companions in misery losing heart without asking, "Why are your faces downcast today?"
Turning to someone else's trouble does something to your own.
If we knew more of Christ's sympathies, the children of God might have more for one another. If you are full of sorrow yourself, go and sympathize with another, and your own will be gone.
Joseph is still in prison when he starts caring for others. One writer sees in that order the way God deals with His people.
In His way with His chosen ones, God's sympathy comes first, and then His power. The sympathy goes with them through their sorrow. The power then delivers them out of it. We are inclined to want ease now, and would sweep away every inconvenience and contradiction at once. But this is not His way. At Bethany "Jesus wept," and afterwards, but not until afterwards, He said, "Lazarus, come out."
The sad faces were no accident. One writer counts them as the third link in a chain.
The third was that both men should have dreams on the same night, of an unusual kind and yet alike in certain ways. The effect on their minds should be such that they looked sad and caught Joseph's notice. They felt there must be a hidden meaning in their dreams, and they wanted an interpreter. Joseph's reply was in effect an offer to interpret, while he acknowledged that all power to do so came from God.
Nothing in the prison was wasted. One writer reads Joseph's kindness to two forgotten men as part of his training.
Every trial he passes through is only a stage in the path that leads to glory: the treatment from his brothers, the slavery in the Egyptian's house, the false accusations of Potiphar's wife, the prison of Pharaoh, the neglect of Pharaoh's cupbearer. His work as a shepherd, his mission to his brothers, his service in Potiphar's house and in Pharaoh's prison are all preparing him to use power in the day of his glory. The service in the trials prepares for the right use of glory.
And the picture points beyond Joseph. In prison he shows himself as the interpreter of God's mind, and that is what fits him to hand out the wealth of Egypt's throne. One writer sees here a shadow of "the lowly Minister to human need" who comes out of humiliation "to serve as the Wisdom and Power of God upon a throne of grace" (F. W. Grant).
- Faithful — jailed on a false charge, Joseph still did whatever needed doing. His faith stayed "simple, peaceful, and bright," and unbelieving men noticed.
- Attentive — he did not complain. He looked around for someone to help, and read the need in their faces.
- Sympathy — God's way is sympathy through the sorrow first, power out of it afterwards. Joseph gives what he is receiving.
- Opened — the question invited their dreams, and the dreams became a link in the chain that led to the throne.
- Prepared — service in the trial trains the hand that will later hold the glory. Christ completes the pattern.
And they said to him, We have dreamt a dream, and there is no interpreter of it. And Joseph said to them, [Do] not interpretations [belong] to God? tell me [your dreams], I pray you.
Joseph is in prison for a crime he never committed. Two of Pharaoh's officers wake up disturbed by dreams no one can explain. His answer moves the question. The problem is not a shortage of skilled dream-readers. Meaning itself is God's to give.
The two men are looking for a specialist. Joseph does not offer himself as one.
Joseph did not claim to be an expert at interpreting dreams. Instead he told them, "Do not interpretations belong to God?" By saying this he showed them where any answer must come from. They had to depend on God Himself to reveal it. But he asks them to tell him their dreams.
Joseph's question assumes these dreams carry a message. Not every dream does.
These dreams of the butler and the baker were "according to the interpretation." Those words imply that they came from God. For dreams have two sources: either God sends them, or they come from the press of business. In them God may reveal His mind, or they may be simply various empty things, the fruit of our own passions or needs.
Where the two men saw a dead end, Joseph saw a giver.
Both men dreamed dreams true to their own case on one night. Joseph did not put that down to what people call chance. They were sad because no interpreter could explain what they felt closely concerned them. Joseph just as simply reckoned that interpretations belong to God. He is the giver of every good gift and of every perfect giving. So He is the One who answers faith's cry to Him, though no other ear hears it.
So where did Joseph's insight come from?
God gave Joseph the discerning ear... In no way is the credit given to mere natural intelligence. The secret of the LORD is with those who fear Him. Joseph's faith was always in use. He knew that God stays the same in the middle of heavy trials — trials that had only changed from one great sorrow into a greater one. At his lowest point he looked up for wisdom to its only source. God's power then called him to solve the riddle, for good or for ill, in the cases that came before him.
Joseph's answer follows a question he asked first: why did their faces look downcast? A wrongly jailed man asked it.
Wherever he was found, God was in all his thoughts... They punished him for his honourable conduct and threw him into the dungeon. Even there his words to his fellow prisoners are, "Interpretations belong to God." He did not complain under that great disaster. He looked around to see what he could do to help others, even his jailers. He could not see his companions in misery losing heart and say nothing. He asked them, "Why are your faces downcast today?"
Joseph turns the credit away at the very moment he could take it. Commentators hear an echo of that in Christ.
Jesus did not honour Himself. "Do not interpretations belong to God?" said Joseph. "My teaching is not mine, but His who sent me," said Jesus. Jesus was obedient, and therefore God has highly exalted Him.
Others press the setting itself — a rejected man is the one who explains God's mind.
All through this the Lord was with him. Yet men rejected him and forgot him completely, like a dead man out of mind. It is as one rejected that he becomes the interpreter. There is no true interpretation without the cross. It is there that God's interpretation has its place... All the interpretation is bound up with the low estate of Joseph.
The two officers wanted to know what lay ahead. So do we.
Joseph says to the downcast butler and baker, "Do not interpretations belong to God?" God must reveal everything any of us can know about these things. And He has revealed how anyone may know where he will spend eternity. His Word, the Bible, gives us a perfect picture of our destiny.
- Belongs. Meaning is God's property. No expert can supply it, and the lack of one cannot withhold it.
- Given. What belongs to God, He gives. Joseph credits nothing to his own cleverness. The answer comes from the giver of every good gift.
- Received. The gift reaches a man whose faith was in constant use and who looked up for wisdom at his lowest point, in a dungeon.
- Shared. He spends the gift on others. He noticed two sad faces before he explained a single dream, instead of complaining about his own case.
- Fulfilled. The rejected interpreter points to Christ. He too said the teaching was not His own, and God exalted Him after His obedience.
Then the chief of the cup-bearers told his dream to Joseph, and said to him, In my dream, behold, a vine was before me;
A cupbearer sits in an Egyptian prison, troubled by a dream he cannot read. He tells it to a fellow prisoner everyone has forgotten, and that man alone can say what the vine means.
The chapter looks like a small household matter in a royal court. Commentators see God reaching even into the king's bedroom to move His plans forward.
In the scripture now before us, all this is seen in a most remarkable manner. God visits the home of a pagan captain, and the household of a pagan king — yes, even his bedside. He makes even the dreams in the king's head on his bed serve the working out of His plans.
Two prisoners woke up sad, with no one to explain their dreams. Joseph's answer pointed them away from human skill.
They were sad because no one could explain what they felt concerned them most. Joseph, just as simply, reckoned that interpretations belong to God, the giver of every good gift and every perfect gift. So He is the answerer of faith's cry to Him, though unheard by any other ear.
Joseph's own dreams had once brought him nothing but trouble from his brothers. Now the same gift serves two strangers in chains.
And as in Joseph's dreams much had been divulged, while he was a young freeman in his father's house, which drew out the envious spite of his brothers, grace gave him now the opportunity of light from above on the dreams of his fellow prisoners... His soul entered into the iron; but love rose superior to evil, and flowed out readily.
The butler watches bud, blossom and ripe grapes appear at once, then squeezes them into the king's cup. No vineyard works that way.
No one expects a vision like this to keep to real time or real place. A dream can crowd the events of months or years into a single scene. Here the vine buds, blossoms and yields grapes, and the wine is fit for a king's cup. History records nothing so fast in the hands of a cupbearer, with no winepress, no vat, and no storing in jars.
Joseph does not hedge. He names a number and a deadline, and the accuracy of it is the point.
The striking point Joseph was given to grasp is the precision of the three days marked by the three branches. No interpreter among Egypt's priests would have dared to say, as Joseph did at once, "The three branches are three days. In three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your office." A guess would more likely have said three months. But no. The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him.
One writer explains what it meant for Pharaoh to "lift up his head."
"The three branches are three days," he says (v.12), and within three days Pharaoh would "lift up his head," that is, bring him into public view, and restore him to his office of cupbearer.
Writers also see a picture here. Someone must crush the grapes before the cup is filled.
In the passage above the grapes were pressed. We might well think of the Lord's death and the awful pressure when He was made sin... God has accepted sinners because of that finished work, which glorified Him. The butler, as we see, was restored to his position again. We who were guilty are justified before God. If we wish to extend the type further, maybe the three branches would remind us of Christ's resurrection. Justification is in a risen Saviour. The dream of the baker tells us that salvation is not by works; he was not restored to his position, but was executed.
Writers see the butler's part in the dream as a picture of a guilty man's place before God.
The dream sets the butler before a vine with three branches, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup — the symbol of God's judgment (Psalm 75:7-8) — is in his hand. He takes the grapes, presses them into the cup, and gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place before Christ, the true Vine. He accepts God's judgment and offers the blood of Christ, measured by that judgment. God accepts it, and the man is forgiven and exalted.
Commentators differ on how far to press the picture. Some read the dream as history and providence. Others see Christ Himself in the vine and the cup.
- Source — Joseph claims no skill of his own. He tells the two prisoners that interpretations belong to God.
- Sign — The dream packs bud, blossom and ripe grapes into one moment. No real vineyard grows that way, so this is a message, not a memory.
- Precision — "Three branches are three days" is a risk no guesser would take. A guess would have said three months. The exactness points to God.
- Substance — Crushed grapes fill the cup, and the king accepts it. Writers see the death of Christ here, and the restored butler pictures guilty people justified.
- Separation — One dream ends in restoring, the other in execution. The vine saves; a man's own work does not.
and in the vine were three branches; and it was as though it budded its blossoms shot forth, its clusters ripened into grapes.
Joseph is in an Egyptian prison. Two of Pharaoh's officers are shut up with him, troubled by dreams no one can explain. The chief cupbearer tells his first: a vine, three branches, and a whole season of growth in one moment.
Nothing in the picture would surprise a man who served wine at court. What is strange is the speed. One writer notes that visions often crowd time like this:
God often works by simple means, as here by a dream that came very naturally to this official of Pharaoh's court. Yet it was truly prophetic; and only a prophet was able to give its clear meaning. Here the wisdom of God was as evident as in sending the dream. No one expects such a vision to keep to real time or to one place. It may crowd the events of months, or years, into a single scene, as with the vine budding and blossoming and yielding grapes, and wine fit for a king's cup.
Some readers once doubted that vines grew in Egypt at all:
People used to object that there were no vines in Egypt, because Herodotus says so. In recent years many carvings of vines have been found on the monuments there.
Joseph does not hedge. Three branches mean three days — not months, not years. Such exactness does not come from a clever guess:
The remarkable point which Joseph was given to seize is the precision of the three days indicated by the three branches. No Egyptian priest who read dreams would have dared to say at once, as Joseph did, "The three branches are three days." A guess would more likely have made them three months. But no. The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him.
The vine appears here for the first time in the Bible. The clusters do not stay whole — they are crushed. One writer reads that pressing as a picture of the cross:
The first mention of the vine in Scripture is in Genesis 40. In every step of the life of the Son of God He glorified the Father, and it was also true in His death. In the passage above the grapes were pressed. We might very well think of the Lord's death and the awful pressure when He was made sin. Gethsemane means the "winepress", but there it was suffering in anticipation. What can we say of the cross itself? Sinners have been accepted because of that finished work which glorified God. The cupbearer, as we see, was restored to his position again. We who were guilty are justified before God. If we want to take the picture further, perhaps the three branches would remind us of Christ's resurrection. Justification is in a risen Saviour.
The dream moves from the vine to the king's cup. One writer reads the cup as God's judgment and the vine as Christ:
The cupbearer is brought before a vine, triple branched, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup (the symbol of God's judgment, Psalm 75:7-8) is in his hand. He takes the grapes, presses them into the cup, and then gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place in the presence of Christ, the true Vine. Accepting God's judgment, he offers the blood of Christ, according to the measure of that judgment. God accepts it, and the man is forgiven and exalted.
The second prisoner dreamed too. One dream shows something already provided. The other shows only what a man made himself:
The chief cupbearer sees in his dream what speaks of the blood — the juice of the grape. And he was delivered. The chief baker dreams of what at once reminds us of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had laboured to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged. The chief cupbearer sees something ready to his hand, the grape clusters, and he presents them to Pharaoh as the blood of the grape. Here we have "the only two religions" pictured — the one that makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus, and the one that ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
Joseph needed a dream. Readers today have something steadier:
We too may have dreams... But as believers, and especially as Christians, we have far better than hints as vague as those. We have the Scriptures in all their fullness. They reveal God — His counsels, work, will, and ways — from eternity to eternity. We have also the Holy Spirit, sent from the Father and the Son in heaven, never to leave but to stay with us and in us. He guides us into all the truth, and tells us the things to come, glorifying our Lord Jesus in both.
- Vine. The Bible's first vine grows here, in a prisoner's dream, budding and fruiting in a single rush.
- Pressed. The clusters are not admired but crushed. One writer reads that pressing as the cross; Gethsemane itself means "winepress."
- Cup. The crushed fruit goes into the cup of judgment, and God accepts it there. That is how a guilty man is forgiven and lifted up.
- Received. The cupbearer's dream shows something ready to his hand; The baker's shows only his own work. These are the only two religions.
- Three. Three branches meant three days, said without hesitation, because the meaning belonged to God. Today that meaning reaches us through Scripture and the Spirit, not through dreams.
And Pharaoh's cup was in my hand; and I took the grapes, and pressed them into Pharaoh's cup, and gave the cup into Pharaoh's hand.
Joseph sits in prison on a false charge. Pharaoh's chief cupbearer tells him a dream: a vine, three branches, ripe grapes, and a cup handed back to the king. The picture is simple, yet commentators find the gospel in it — and they ask first why God sent such a dream to a foreign official at all.
One writer sets out the parts of the dream as three linked steps, each carrying the story forward.
The butler told his dream. Its main points were: (1) that the vine had three branches, which produced the ripe grapes; (2) that Pharaoh's cup was in his hand, so that he could press into it the ripe grapes; and (3) that the cup of grape juice passed into Pharaoh's hand. The interpretation was simple. Within three days Pharaoh would restore the butler to his place.
Nothing in a vineyard moves this fast. Budding, blossom, ripe fruit and pressed wine all arrive in one breath — which tells you what kind of scene this is.
God often works by simple means, as here by such a dream as fell very naturally to this official of Pharaoh's court. Yet it was truly prophetic; and only a prophet was able to give its clear meaning. Here the wisdom of God was as evident as in sending the dream. No one looks for unity of time and place in such a vision. A vision can crowd the events of months, or years, into a single scene: the vine budding, blossoming and yielding grapes, and wine fit for a king's cup. No one ever heard of so fast a result in the hands of a cupbearer, with no winepress, no vat, and no storing in jars.
The same writer adds that we have no ground to assume the cup held plain grape juice rather than fermented wine. He calls it a small point.
Joseph gives no cautious guess. He ties the three branches to three days, and one writer traces that exactness back to God.
The remarkable point which Joseph was given to seize is the precision of the three days indicated by the three branches. No priestly interpreter in Egypt would have ventured to say, as Joseph did at once, "The three branches are three days. In three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your office." If it were a guess, three months might have been more likely; but no. The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him. Even more was given here: God's work in Joseph's own spirit, and the divine wisdom that sent the vision to the Egyptian official. Interpretation of what God says or does belongs to God. He gives it as He wills, and as a rule to those whom He loves, even in circumstances of the deepest humiliation. In this Joseph pictured what was true of the Lord Himself here on earth.
Grapes give nothing until the press crushes them. One writer follows that crushing to the cross, and the butler's restoration to the believer's standing before God.
In every step of the life of the Son of God He glorified the Father, and it was also true in His death. In the passage above the grapes were pressed. We might well think of the Lord's death and the terrible pressure when He was made sin. Gethsemane means the "winepress," but there it was suffering in anticipation. What can we say of the cross itself? Sinners have been accepted because of that finished work which glorified God. The butler, as we see, was restored to his position again. We who were guilty are justified before God. If we wish to extend the type further, perhaps the three branches would remind us of Christ's resurrection. Justification is in a risen Saviour.
The cup in the cupbearer's hand belongs to the king. One writer reads that cup as the symbol of God's judgment, and the filling and handing back as the sinner's answer to it.
The butler is brought before a vine with three branches, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup (the symbol of God's judgment, Psalm 75:7-8) is in his hand. He takes the grapes and presses them into the cup, and then gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place in the presence of Christ, the true Vine. He accepts God's judgment and offers the blood of Christ, according to the measure of that judgment. God accepts it, and the man is forgiven and lifted up.
Two men, two dreams, two opposite outcomes. The difference is in what each one had to present.
The chief butler sees something ready to his hand, the grape clusters. He makes use of them and presents them to Pharaoh as the blood of the grape. The birds devour the offering of the baker. Here we have a picture of "the only two religions." One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
- Fruit — a vine that buds, blossoms and ripens in one moment is not gardening but prophecy. A vision packs months into one scene.
- Pressed — grapes give nothing until the press crushes them. That crushing points to the cross, where the Son of God glorified the Father in death.
- Cup — Pharaoh's cup stands for God's judgment. The cupbearer fills it with what the vine gave, not with anything of his own.
- Accepted — the king takes the cup back and receives it. The man is forgiven and lifted up, and justification rests on a risen Saviour.
- Contrast — the baker offers what his own work produced, and loses everything. These are the only two religions there have ever been.
And Joseph said to him, This is the interpretation of it the three branches are three days.
Two of Pharaoh's officials sit in the same prison as Joseph, each disturbed by a dream nobody can explain. Joseph answers at once and names an exact number of days — so the first question is how he knew.
Joseph claims nothing for himself. One writer points to the precision of the answer:
The remarkable point Joseph was given to grasp is the precision of the three days shown by the three branches. No priestly interpreter in Egypt would have dared to say, as Joseph did at once, "The three branches are three days. In three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your office." If it were a guess, three months would have been more likely; but no. The secret of Jehovah is with those who fear Him. Even more was given here: God's work in Joseph's spirit, and the divine wisdom that sent the dream to the Egyptian official. Interpretation of what God says or does belongs to God. He gives it as He will, and as a rule to those whom He loves, even in circumstances of the deepest humiliation. In this Joseph aptly pictured what was true of the blessed Lord Himself here below.
Joseph goes on to say that Pharaoh will "lift up your head." One writer explains both halves of the answer:
Joseph, in communion with the mind of God, had no difficulty in interpreting this dream. "The three branches are three days," he says. Within three days Pharaoh would "lift up his head" — that is, bring him into public view — and restore him to his office of cupbearer.
Joseph is in the dungeon because he refused to sin. Notice what he does with that injustice:
Wherever he was found, God was in all his thoughts: when tempted, he said, "How can I... sin against God?" When brought to Pharaoh, his first words are, "God shall give..."... When he is punished for his honourable conduct and thrown into the dungeon, his words to his fellow prisoners are, "Interpretations belong to God." He did not complain under that great calamity. He looks about to see what he can do to help others, even his jailors. He cannot see his companions in misery losing heart without asking, "Why do you look so sad today?"
Writers also read the two dreams as pictures. Read that way, the cupbearer's vine carries the gospel:
The butler is brought before a vine, triple branched, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup (the symbol of God's judgment, Psalm 75:7-8) is in his hand; he takes the grapes and presses them into the cup, and then gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place in the presence of Christ, the true Vine. Accepting God's judgment, he offers the blood of Christ, according to the measure of that judgment. God accepts the offering, and the man is forgiven and exalted.
The other prisoner dreams of what his own hands produced. Set side by side, the two dreams divide every religion ever attempted into two:
The chief butler sees in his dream what speaks of the blood — the juice of the grape. And he was delivered. The chief baker dreams of what at once reminds us of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had laboured to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged... The birds of the air devour the baker's offering. Here we have "the only two religions" pictured. One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
From the outside the two men looked the same: same prison, same sentence, same night of dreaming. The same interpreter gives each of them a verdict:
Here were two men in the same place of bondage, both condemned. So far as we know, both were equally guilty — or innocent. They were just alike in all outward appearance. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
Both verdicts land on the same day:
There were "three days" in each case: death and resurrection delivers one and condemns the other.
- Source. Joseph does not read dreams; God gives meaning, and He gives it to a man in the deepest humiliation.
- Precision. Three branches meant three days, not months. No interpreter in Egypt would have risked such an exact answer.
- Service. Jailed unjustly, Joseph does not complain. He looks around for someone to help, starting with the sad faces of fellow prisoners.
- Cup. The grapes pressed into the king's cup picture the blood of Christ meeting God's judgment, and God accepts it. The baker's baskets picture human work, and the birds eat it.
- Division. Two men alike in every outward way hear opposite verdicts on the same third day. Death and resurrection delivers one and condemns the other.
In yet three days will Pharaoh lift up thy head and restore thee to thy place, and thou shalt deliver Pharaoh's cup into his hand, after the former manner when thou wast his cup-bearer.
Joseph is a prisoner himself when the chief cupbearer tells him his dream. His answer is not a cautious guess but a dated promise. Where did that certainty come from, and what do the vine, the cup and the three days mean?
One writer ties the branches to the days and explains what the raised head means:
Joseph, in communion with the mind of God, had no difficulty in interpreting this dream. "The three branches are three days," he says (v. 12). Within three days Pharaoh would "lift up his head" — that is, bring him into public view — and restore him to his office of cupbearer.
Joseph names a deadline, not a vague forecast. One writer traces that precision to God:
The remarkable point God gave Joseph to seize is the precision of the three days marked by the three branches. No priestly interpreter in Egypt would have dared to say at once, as Joseph did, "In three days Pharaoh will lift up your head and restore you to your office." A guess would more likely have said three months; but no. The secret of Jehovah is with those who fear Him... Interpretation of what God says or does belongs to God. He gives it as He will, and as a rule to those whom He loves, even in circumstances of the deepest humiliation. For in this Joseph was a fitting picture of what proved true in the Lord Jesus Himself here on earth.
Commentators also read the details of the dream as a picture of the gospel:
There is striking spiritual significance in this dream. The three days remind us of the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus. The juice of the grapes stands for the shedding of His blood. He endured the suffering pictured by the winepress. His blood was shed as the only means of forgiveness of sins. So the guilty sinner is set free from his guilt and bondage, and it all rests on the value of the blood of Christ. The cupbearer then pictures the sinner saved by the shedding of the blood of Christ.
In the dream the man does not keep the cup; he fills it and hands it back to the king:
The dream sets the butler before a vine with three branches, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup is in his hand, the symbol of God's judgment (Psalm 75:7-8). He takes the grapes, presses them into the cup, and gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place in the presence of Christ, the true Vine. Accepting God's judgment, he offers the blood of Christ, in the measure of that judgment. God accepts it, and the man is forgiven and exalted.
The other prisoner in the same cell heard the opposite verdict. Nothing outward marked the two men apart:
Here were two men in the same prison, both condemned, and, so far as we know, both guilty — or both innocent. From the outside they looked just alike. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
What divided them was the content of each dream:
We see the gospel pictured in these dreams. The chief butler sees in his dream what speaks of the blood (the juice of the grape). And he was delivered. The chief baker, on the other hand, dreams of what at once reminds us of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had laboured to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged... Here we have "the only two religions" pictured. One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
The next three days settled it. One writer sees God's hand even in what followed:
The event proved that God had given Joseph's interpretations. Pharaoh's birthday was on the third day, and he acted as the dreams had indicated. Yet the chief butler in his renewed prosperity forgot about Joseph, and has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, as we believe, the hand of God was over even this. If the butler had remembered, thankful and perhaps respectful human arrangement would have freed Joseph from prison. God intended to take him out, reviving the butler's memory, in a far more striking way.
- Word. "Lift up your head" means Pharaoh will bring the man back into public view and restore him to his old office.
- Source. The three-day deadline was no guess. Interpretation belongs to God, and He gives it even to a man in deep humiliation.
- Picture. The three days point to death and resurrection. The pressed grapes point to blood shed — the only means of forgiveness.
- Divide. Two prisoners look alike, yet one is saved and the other lost. One dream holds blood; the other holds human effort.
- Result. The promise came true to the day. Even the cupbearer's ingratitude stayed under God's hand, keeping a greater rescue for Joseph.
Only bear a remembrance with thee of me when it goes well with thee, and deal kindly, I pray thee, with me, and make mention of me to Pharaoh, and bring me out of this house;
Joseph sits in prison for a crime he never committed, and he has just told Pharaoh's cupbearer that his old job is coming back. With that good news Joseph adds a plea for himself, and commentators read it two ways: as a fair, blameless request, or as a reach for human help when God alone was his resource.
Joseph made his plea to only one of the two prisoners, and what he asked for was narrow.
Yet Joseph must have known the grave fate that would soon fall on the chief baker. So notice that he made no appeal to him to be remembered. He said only to the chief cupbearer, "Only remember me, when it is well with you, and please do me the kindness to mention me to Pharaoh, and so get me out of this house." There was nothing random in his words. He had no selfish wish for the royal favours that men look for. He asked only for release from the mockery of justice that fell on a righteous man through lust that was refused and through lies.
Other writers question the step. Joseph had helped this man, and now he leaned on him.
So Joseph, in his day, finds the waiting time in prison a testing time for faith. He, too, seeks deliverance by human help. He had befriended the king's butler, so he concludes that the butler will speak to Pharaoh and get him released. "Only remember me," says Joseph, "when it is well with you..." Joseph must not only learn that the help of man is vain, but that God is his only resource. "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." But to receive this "help" we must learn to "be still" and know that God is God (Ps. 46:1, 10). God has His time as well as His way to bring His purposes to pass.
Another writer weighs it gently:
This was natural. Joseph had befriended the king's butler, and such a man could befriend him in return. No one can condemn his longing for that man's sympathy on natural, human, or even moral grounds. But we may still ask whether it was quite worthy of Joseph, and whether faith would have chosen this way.
The cupbearer walked free and forgot him. Two more years passed. One writer explains why full deliverance is so often delayed.
In every trial, however dark, there are gleams of light and relief. But full deliverance is often delayed by our own anxiety to get it. God is to be the satisfaction of His servant, not the deliverance. So the deliverance is often put off until we have no prospect of it and no expectation of it.
The same words — "remember me" — appear again at the cross, and the outcome could not be more different.
Joseph prayed to be remembered when the chief butler was raised up again, and the butler forgot him. For that moment he put his confidence in man, and that confidence failed him. The dying criminal, on the other hand, prayed in his distress, but in faith: "Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom." He got an immediate answer: "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." His confidence was also in a Man. But that Man was the Messiah, David's Son and David's Lord, and so he was not put to shame... it is vain to seek to anticipate, as Joseph was tempted to do, the Lord's deliverance by any human means.
One writer hears Christ making the same request of those He has blessed.
Joseph tells the chief butler the good news of his release, and then says, "Only remember me, when it is well with you." And has not our Joseph said to us about the Lord's Supper, "Do this in remembrance of me"? It was one of His last requests. Shame on us, then, if we hear and believe the good news of our salvation and then forget Him, just as the chief butler forgot Joseph... Thank God, "it is well" with the believer — blessedly, gloriously well — for time and all eternity.
Joseph asked for more than a kind thought. He asked the cupbearer to name him to Pharaoh.
Christ has been cast out by the world, and He expects His friends will make mention of Him. I like to make mention of my best Friend.
- Remember me — the request. Joseph asked only the man who had a future. He wanted release from an unjust sentence, not royal favours.
- Remember me — the risk. Commentators differ. One finds nothing selfish or random in the plea. Others see faith leaning on human help, when God alone was Joseph's resource.
- Remember me — the silence. The cupbearer forgot, and two years passed. Deliverance often waits until we stop expecting it, because God means to be the satisfaction of His servant, not only his rescuer.
- Remember me — answered. The same prayer offered to a Man on a cross got an immediate reply, because that Man was David's Son and David's Lord.
- Remember me — reversed. The words now come from Christ to us: remember Him at His table, and make mention of Him to a world that cast Him out.
for indeed I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews, and here also have I done nothing that they should put me into the dungeon.
Joseph had been carried off from his home and then thrown into an Egyptian prison. Now he speaks to a fellow prisoner who is about to walk free, and two short claims carry the whole verse: he was taken by force, and no crime of his put him in that pit.
Joseph names his homeland by the people who lived there as strangers. The word itself carries that sense of a man passing through:
The root of the word is "to pass over," as when one passes over a river, or from one region to another. Abraham was told to leave his country and his relatives and go into the land of Canaan. The word Hebrew is not used until Abraham had left his country and was in the land of Canaan. When he was there he was a "sojourner," in a strange country, living in tents. Joseph, when in Egypt, said he had been stolen from "the land of the Hebrews."
One writer notes how natural that name sounds coming from Joseph, and how familiar it would be to his hearers:
Genesis 40:15 is most natural on the lips of Joseph, looking back on the land where he and his father were once together. He describes it by "the Hebrews" — a name familiar among the Gentiles.
Joseph calls the place a pit, and the word had an everyday sense: "A pit used for water, but sometimes dry and used as a prison" (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
Joseph does not argue his case. He states a fact, and his fellow prisoners could judge it for themselves:
So in Joseph in prison we see the suffering Christ. And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief cupbearer and his chief baker. But they do not suffer like Joseph. He suffered though he was innocent. They, in all probability, were receiving the "due reward of their deeds," like the two thieves crucified with Christ. Joseph was ruler in the dungeon, and the conscience of his fellow prisoners must have said, "This man has done nothing wrong."
Commentators differ on whether Joseph's appeal showed prudence or a lack of faith. One reads it as leaning on human help:
Thus Joseph, in his day, finds the waiting time in prison a testing time for faith. He, too, seeks deliverance by an arm of flesh. He had befriended the king's cupbearer, so he concludes the cupbearer will step in with Pharaoh to get him out... Joseph must not only learn that the help of man is vain, but that God is his only resource. "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." But to receive this "help" we must learn to "be still" and know that God is God.
Another reads the same request as good sense, and points past it to the One who did not forget:
With the remarkable prudence which marks his character, he had begged not to be forgotten. But he was left in irons a little longer. The word of the LORD tested him. God would work in His own way. If the chief cupbearer forgot Joseph in his prosperity, God did not.
The cupbearer walked out and said nothing. Yet the silence served a purpose:
Yet the chief cupbearer forgot about Joseph once he was prosperous again. He has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, as we believe, the hand of God was over even this. If the cupbearer had remembered, Joseph's release would have come through a grateful, and perhaps respectful, human arrangement. God intended to take him out, reviving the cupbearer's memory, in a far more striking way. And not only take him out but also lift him above the chief of cupbearers and bakers.
Joseph's two claims — kidnapped, and guilty of nothing — point beyond himself:
It was true enough that there was no cause in Joseph for his being treated so, but how much more this is true of the Lord Jesus, who was totally sinless in every way, yet subjected to far worse treatment than Joseph was given.
The request itself has an echo in the Gospels:
He says to the cupbearer... When it is well with you, think of me. That is like a very touching word of the Lord's. Just before He went into death, He said, "Do this in remembrance of me." The world has cast Christ out, and He expects His friends will make mention of Him. I like to make mention of my best Friend.
- Stolen. Joseph names himself a man taken from "the land of the Hebrews." His family lived there as strangers passing through.
- Innocent. He claims no crime. His fellow prisoners, who were getting what their deeds deserved, could only agree: "This man has done nothing wrong." In him we see the suffering Christ.
- Forgotten. He asked a man to remember him, and that man forgot. Commentators differ on whether the request was prudence or leaning on human help.
- Remembered. The cupbearer's memory failed, but God's did not — and the delay meant release came by God's hand, not by human favour.
- Fulfilled. Joseph asked the cupbearer to think of him. Christ, cast out by the world, asks His friends to make mention of Him.
And when the chief of the bakers saw that the interpretation was good, he said to Joseph, I also was in my dream, and behold, three baskets of white bread were on my head.
The chief baker spoke up only after Joseph read the cupbearer's dream and the news was good. His timing, and the load he carried on his head, are what commentators dig into here.
The verse turns on what the baker saw before he spoke. Older translations call the cupbearer "the butler." One writer finds the two prisoners alike in everything but this:
The two men may look no different in position or actions. But there is still a marked difference in how they receive Joseph's approach. The butler opens his heart to him at once. But of the other one we read, "When the chief baker saw…" He held back until an outside circumstance encouraged him. He "saw" — he walked by sight.
The baker's dream ran the other way, and its count of three set the timing:
Encouraged by this favourable interpretation, the baker told his dream. Its main points were: (1) there were three baskets of baked goods; (2) the baskets sat on his head; and (3) birds ate the food, so it never reached Pharaoh. Again the interpretation was simple. Within three days Pharaoh would lift up his head, hanging him on a tree, so that the birds would eat his flesh. His dream meant exactly the opposite of the butler's.
Set the two dreams side by side. One man handled fruit he had not grown. The other carried food he had baked himself.
We see the gospel pictured in these dreams. The chief butler sees in his dream what speaks of the blood — the juice of the grape. And he was delivered. The chief baker dreams of what at once reminds us of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had worked to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged. The chief butler sees something ready to his hand, the grape clusters. He takes them and presents them to Pharaoh as the blood of the grape. The birds of the air eat the baker's offering. Here we have "the only two religions" pictured. One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
(Knapp follows an older translation, "white baskets." The ESV has "three cake baskets on my head.")
Two things marked the baker's basket. He had made what it held, and he had made it for the king's table.
The bakery goods were the work of the baker's hands. They were meant for Pharaoh, just as people mean to please God by their good works. They do not realise that these things can never take away the sins they have committed. God certainly cannot accept our works in place of what His own Son did. He bore the agony of terrible judgment at Calvary. People think God will accept their works as payment for their sins. But the baked goods never reached Pharaoh's table: the birds ate them. The birds of the air picture the work of evil spirits. They love to deceive people by flattering their so-called good works (Matthew 13:4 and 19). Satan gains from this, not God.
The same writer weighs the top basket, the best the baker had to offer:
Baked goods are not enough. People may pile them up, decorated and fragrant, as high as heaven. Still the evil spirits will waste them, and the baskets are full of holes. The baking of human religion is like Cain's sacrifice — his own design and labour, lifeless and bloodless. The top basket was full of them — the very height of spirituality. They were "prepared for Pharaoh" too. But Pharaoh would have none of them.
Nothing in his own dream alarmed the baker. The difference lay in the listener, and in where that listener looked.
It is clear how far the chief baker was from seeing anything to discourage him from telling his dream to Joseph. But God gave Joseph the discerning ear. In one dream the cupbearer handed Pharaoh a drink. In the other the birds — not the king — ate out of the basket on the baker's head. Joseph saw the immense difference. Mere natural intelligence gets no credit at all. The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him. Joseph's faith was in constant use. He knew that God stays the same in the middle of heavy trials, and his own trials had only grown from one great sorrow into a greater one. At his lowest point he looked up for wisdom to its only source.
- Sight — The baker spoke only after he "saw" another man get good news. His hope rested on a circumstance, not on God.
- Self — He carried his own product: baskets of his own baking. Commentators read this as human righteousness offered to God.
- Short — He prepared the food for the king, and the king never tasted it. Works offered to pay for sin never arrive.
- Stolen — Birds ate what he had made. Commentators see in them evil spirits, who flatter people about their good works.
- Secret — Only Joseph heard what the dream truly said. Interpretations belong to God, not to natural cleverness.
And in the uppermost basket there were all manner of victuals for Pharaoh that the baker makes, and the birds ate them out of the basket upon my head.
The baker had just heard Joseph give the cupbearer good news, so he told his own dream in hope. Commentators read the two dreams as a picture of two ways of coming to God: one man carries food he made himself, the other hands the king a cup.
He told his dream only after seeing how the first interpretation turned out. One writer sees that hesitation as the real difference between the two men:
The two men may look no different in position or in what they did. Yet there is a marked difference in how they receive Joseph's approach. The cupbearer gladly opens his heart to him. But of the other one we read, "When the chief baker saw…" He held back until some outward circumstance encouraged him: he "saw" — he walked by sight.
The cupbearer's dream ended with a cup placed in the king's hand. The baker's dream was full of food he had made himself:
Let us look at the chief baker now. He saw in his dream, as we have said, what stands for human righteousness — white baskets and baked goods prepared by his own skilful hand. And oh, what baskets of good things, as they suppose, are self-righteous sinners all around preparing for God's acceptance!
The basket was the top one, and the food was for Pharaoh. Neither fact saved it:
Baked goods are not enough. Men may pile them up, ornate and fragrant, as high as heaven. The evil spirits will still waste them, and the baskets are full of holes. The pastry of human religion is like Cain's sacrifice — his own design and work, lifeless and bloodless. There was the uppermost basket full of them — the very height of spirituality — and "prepared for Pharaoh" too. But Pharaoh would have none of them.
Scripture uses birds elsewhere as a settled image, and this verse is one of the places it is drawn from:
These are used as symbols of evil agents: for example, in the dream of Pharaoh's baker, the birds ate the baked food he was carrying on his head, Gen. 40:17; and in the parable of the Sower the birds that devoured the seed by the path are interpreted by Christ to mean "the evil one." Matt. 13:4, 19.
If the king never ate the food, who did?
God cannot accept men's works as a substitute for the work of His own Son, who bore the agony of terrible judgment at Calvary. The baked goods were meant for Pharaoh. In the same way, men think God will accept their works as payment for their sins. But the food never reached Pharaoh's table: the birds ate it. The birds of the air picture the satanic activity of evil spirits. They love to deceive people by flattering their so-called good works (Matt. 13:4 and 19). It is Satan who gains from this, not God.
Nothing in his own dream sounded alarming to the baker. The difference lay in one detail — who ate what he carried:
It is clear that the chief baker saw nothing to discourage him from telling his dream to Joseph. But God gave Joseph the discerning ear to perceive the immense difference between the two. The cupbearer acted so that Pharaoh should drink. The birds — not the king — ate out of the basket on his head. In no way is the credit given to mere natural intelligence.
The same number appeared in both dreams, and the same three days brought opposite outcomes:
There were "three days" in each case: death and resurrection delivers one and condemns the other.
- Carried — the baker carries his baskets on his own head. Everything in the dream is his own work, and he holds it up himself.
- Offered — the food really is "for Pharaoh," and real effort went into it. Intention and quality were never the problem.
- Intercepted — the birds eat what was meant for the king. Birds picture evil spirits, so the offering feeds the deceiver instead.
- Rejected — Pharaoh refuses even the uppermost basket, the highest reach of it. No one can hand his own work to God as payment.
- Divided — the same three days restore one man and condemn the other. Only Joseph, given discernment by God, could hear which was which.
And Joseph answered and said, This is the interpretation of it the three baskets are three days.
Joseph is a prisoner reading a prisoner's dream. This time the message he must deliver is a death sentence. The baker's three baskets match the three branches in the butler's dream, yet the outcome is the opposite.
The king's cupbearer (the butler) and his baker both dreamed on the same night. Both dreams turned on the number three. The difference Joseph caught was not in the number but in what happened to the goods. Commentators say he did not work it out. God gave it:
God gave Joseph the discerning ear that saw the immense difference between the two dreams. The cup-bearer acted so that Pharaoh should drink. But it was the birds — not the king — who ate out of the basket on the baker's head. In no way is the credit given to mere natural intelligence. The secret of the Lord is with those who fear Him. Joseph's faith was always in exercise. He knew that God remains the same in the middle of heavy trials. In his lowest humiliation he looked up for wisdom to its only source. God's power then called him to solve the riddle, for good or for ill, in the cases brought before him. And if he trusted the Lord, his love also went out in compassion to fellow-sufferers. Their faces, without a word, showed the worry their dreams cost them. Was it not faith working by love?
The baker spoke up because the first interpretation had been good news. What came back used the same three parts — and ended in death:
Encouraged by this favourable interpretation, the baker told his dream. Its main points were these. The baskets of baked goods were three. The baskets were on his head. Birds ate the baked goods, and they never reached Pharaoh. Again the interpretation was simple. Within three days Pharaoh would lift up his head, hanging him on a tree, so that the birds would eat his flesh. His dream had exactly the opposite meaning to that of the butler.
Joseph did not soften the verdict. One writer says he told the baker straight out that hanging was his fate (C. Knapp).
Nothing visible separated these two prisoners. The division came from outside them, through the word spoken over them:
Here were two men in the same place of bondage, equally condemned, and, as far as we know, equally guilty — or innocent — just alike in all outward appearance. Christ, pictured in Joseph, comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
Commentators read the two dreams as a picture of two religions. One man saw grapes he had not grown. The other saw goods he had baked himself:
We see the gospel pictured in these dreams. The chief butler sees in his dream what speaks of the blood — the juice of the grape. And he was delivered. The chief baker, on the other hand, dreams of what reminds us at once of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had laboured to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged... Here we have the only two religions pictured. One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
The baskets were not poor work. They were the best the man could make, stacked high and meant for the king:
Baked goods are not enough. Men may pile them up, ornate and fragrant, as high as heaven. The evil spirits will still waste them, and the baskets are full of holes. The baking of human religion is like Cain's sacrifice — his own design and labour, lifeless and bloodless. There was the top basket full of them, the very height of spirituality, and "prepared for Pharaoh" too. But Pharaoh would have none of them.
One writer traces the whole pattern behind the prison scene — a son rejected by his own, sold, and then raised:
His own people, Israel, had rejected the Son of the Father and sold Him for a few pieces of silver. He was put to death "in a figure." He had risen from the dead and passed over to the Gentiles, to become the Saviour of the world and the Revealer of secrets... He is found among the captive and afflicted. His presence and words must separate them into two classes, saved and lost. The butler and baker are divided like the repentant and unrepentant thieves at the crucifixion... The millennial time is still future: the prison scene is going on now.
- Given, not guessed. Joseph did not reason the meaning out. God gave the discerning ear to a man whose faith was always in exercise.
- Given plainly. The baker's dream matched his neighbour's in shape but not in outcome. Joseph told him the truth without softening it.
- Given to both. Two condemned prisoners looked alike. The word spoken over them, not anything in them, pronounced one saved and one lost.
- Given, not earned. The butler offered what he had not produced. The baker offered his own labour, piled high for the king. Pharaoh would have none of it.
- Given still. Commentators read the prison as a picture of the present age. The rejected One is among the captives now, and His word still divides them.
In yet three days will Pharaoh lift up thy head from off thee, and hang thee on a tree; and the birds will eat thy flesh from off thee.
Joseph has just promised the cupbearer freedom in three days, so the baker tells his own dream expecting good news too. The reply uses nearly the same words and means the opposite — why do two men in one prison end so differently?
One writer sets out the three parts of the dream and what they meant:
The baker's dream had these key features: the baskets of baked goods were three; the baskets were on his head; and the birds ate the baked goods, which never reached Pharaoh. Again the interpretation was simple. Within three days Pharaoh would lift up his head and hang him on a tree, so that the birds would eat his flesh. His dream had exactly the opposite meaning to the cupbearer's.
The same phrase covered both men, and that is where the paths split:
On the third day, his birthday, the king lifted up the head of each official. But the chief cupbearer rose to his post beside Pharaoh, and the chief baker rose to the gallows.
Joseph did not read the dream by being clever:
Clearly the chief baker saw nothing in his dream to discourage him from telling it to Joseph. But God gave Joseph the discerning ear. In the cupbearer's dream Pharaoh drank. In the baker's, the birds — not the king — ate out of the basket on his head. Joseph saw the huge difference. The credit does not go to mere natural intelligence.
One writer takes the three days and the baker's baskets as a picture of two ways of approaching God:
The three days still remind us of the death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus. For the believer this is great blessing. For the unbeliever it is just as surely condemnation. But the bakery goods were the work of the baker's hands. The baker meant them for Pharaoh, just as men mean to please God by their good works, not realising that these things can never take away the sins they have committed. God certainly cannot accept men's works in place of the work of His own Son, who bore the agony of terrible judgment on Calvary. The bakery goods never reached Pharaoh's table: the birds ate them. The birds of the air picture the activity of evil spirits, who love to deceive people by flattering their so-called good works. It is Satan who gains from this, not God.
Another writer presses the image further. Effort and display were never the problem:
Baked goods are not enough. Even if men pile them up, decorated and fragrant, as high as heaven, the evil spirits will waste them. The baskets are full of holes. The fancy baking of human religion is like Cain's sacrifice — his own design and his own labour, lifeless and bloodless.
The sentence has a grim symmetry: the birds that robbed his offering ended up feeding on him. One writer draws out what hanging on a tree came to mean in Scripture:
Pharaoh hanged the baker, and the very birds that ate his baked goods ate his flesh. ... Awful end! Fearful doom! And, self-righteous sinner, it is a sure forewarning of your own. "Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree," Scripture says.
One writer traces that curse to where it finally landed. Christ "redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us." The baker died that death under judgment. The Saviour chose it (Hamilton Smith).
Nothing in the record separates these two men except their dreams:
Here were two men in the same prison, equally condemned, and as far as we know equally guilty — or innocent. They were just alike in every outward way. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
- Same words. Pharaoh "lifted up the head" of both men on the same day — one to his old office, one to the gallows. Identical treatment, opposite ends.
- Different contents. The cupbearer's dream ended with Pharaoh drinking. The baker's put his own handiwork on his own head, and it never reached the king.
- Different reader. Joseph did not guess. He noticed that the birds, not Pharaoh, ate. God gave him that discernment; natural intelligence did not.
- Different end. Hanging on a tree carries the curse in Scripture. The birds that stole the offering — a picture of evil spirits — fed on the man.
- Same Saviour. The curse that fell on the baker as judgment fell on Christ by His own choice. He became a curse to redeem those who trust Him.
And it came to pass the third day -- Pharaoh's birthday -- that he made a feast to all his bondmen. And he lifted up the head of the chief of the cup-bearers, and the head of the chief of the bakers among his bondmen.
The third day came, just as Joseph had said. Pharaoh kept his birthday with a feast, and he brought two prisoners up from the dungeon in front of his whole court. The same royal act touches both men, yet it sends one back to the king's side and the other to the gallows.
Kept birthdays are rare in Scripture, and Pharaoh's is the first one named.
Scripture mentions only two kept birthdays. One is Pharaoh's, in Genesis 40:20. The other is Herod Antipas's, when John the Baptist lost his life (Matthew 14:6; Mark 6:21). Some think that Job's sons, who feasted "each on his day," did so on their birthdays, Job 1:4, 13. We do not read that the Israelites had any such custom. And the Preacher says the day of death is better than the day of one's birth (Ecclesiastes 7:1).
Pharaoh "lifted up the head" of both officials — the same wording covers a restoration and an execution.
In both cases the time was short, as the dream indicated and Joseph interpreted. On the third day, his birthday, the king lifted up the head of each official. But the chief cup-bearer rose to his post beside Pharaoh, and the chief baker rose to the gallows.
The text never explains why the king decided as he did.
The third day arrived, and Joseph's interpretation of the dreams proved true. Being Pharaoh's birthday, he made a feast for his servants. Both the cupbearer and the baker were brought out into public view, but for opposite reasons (v. 20). The chief cupbearer was restored to his former position, while the baker was hanged (vv. 21-22). What influenced Pharaoh here is not mentioned. But the evidence of God's presence with Joseph was unmistakable.
Writers have read the two prisoners as a picture of Christ dividing people. Nothing visible marked one man out from the other.
Here were two men in the same prison, both equally condemned. As far as we know, they were equally guilty — or equally innocent. They looked exactly alike in every outward way. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
The difference lay in what each man's dream had put before him.
We see the gospel pictured in these dreams. The chief butler sees in his dream what speaks of the blood (the juice of the grape). And he was delivered. The chief baker, on the other hand, dreams of the white baskets. They remind us at once of human righteousness. He saw only what he had laboured to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged... Here we have "the only two religions" pictured. One makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus. The other ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
The restored cupbearer went back to palace life and left his interpreter in the dungeon. One writer sees God's hand even behind that failure.
The event proved that Joseph's interpretations were given by God. Pharaoh's birthday was on the third day, and he acted as the dreams had indicated. Yet the chief butler, in his renewed prosperity, forgot about Joseph. He has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, we believe the hand of God was over even this. If the butler had remembered, Joseph's release would have come through grateful, and perhaps respectful, human arrangement. God intended to take him out, by reviving the butler's memory, in a far more striking way.
Grant turns that forgetting into a warning for believers.
May the Lord preserve us from being like him. We who are believers have far more reason to remember the Lord Jesus than the cupbearer had to remember Joseph. He has not only foretold our deliverance. He has Himself delivered us from all our sins and our bondage, through the great sacrifice of Himself. Believers may too easily let this become almost forgotten in practice. That is a real reason why the Lord gave us the Lord's supper with the words, "Do this in remembrance of Me" (Luke 22:19).
- Word — Joseph's interpretation came true on the exact day. Nothing is said about Pharaoh's motives, so the one clear cause is that God was with Joseph.
- Feast — Scripture names only two kept birthdays, Pharaoh's and Herod's. At both, a man loses his life.
- Lifted — the same royal phrase covered both men: one head raised to the king's cup, one raised to the gallows.
- Divided — the two prisoners looked alike in every outward way. One dream pointed to the blood, the other to human effort; one man lived, one died.
- Remembered — the freed cupbearer forgot Joseph. Believers have far more reason to remember: "Do this in remembrance of Me."
And he restored the chief of the cup-bearers to his office of cup-bearer again; and he gave the cup into Pharaoh's hand.
On the third day the chief cupbearer leaves prison and stands at Pharaoh's side again, cup in hand, just as Joseph had said. One verse hands a man his life back, and proves that the forgotten prisoner in the dungeon spoke for God.
Joseph had told the cupbearer that Pharaoh would "lift up his head." Here is what that phrase meant.
Joseph, in communion with the mind of God, had no difficulty in interpreting this dream. "The three branches are three days," he says (v. 12). Within three days Pharaoh would "lift up his head" — that is, bring him into public view and restore him to his office of cupbearer.
The third day settled everything.
Joseph's interpretation of the dreams proved true when the third day arrived. It was Pharaoh's birthday, and he made a feast for his servants. Both the cupbearer and the baker came out into public view, but for opposite reasons (v. 20). Pharaoh restored the chief cupbearer to his former post and hanged the baker (vv. 21-22). Scripture does not say what influenced Pharaoh in these matters, but the evidence of God's presence with Joseph was unmistakable.
Joseph had not guessed. Commentators note how exact the timing was — three branches meaning three days, not three months:
No temple interpreter in Egypt would have dared to say, as Joseph did at once, "The three branches are three days. Within yet three days will Pharaoh lift up your head, and restore you to your office." If he had been guessing, three months would have seemed more likely; but no. The secret of the LORD is with those who fear Him... Interpretation of what God says or does belongs to God. He gives it as He wills, and as a rule to those He loves, even in the deepest humiliation.
This verse carries its full weight only beside the next one. Two prisoners went in together. One came out to the palace, the other to the gallows.
Here were two men in the same place of bondage, equally condemned, and, so far as we know, equally guilty — or innocent — just alike in all outward appearance. Christ (Joseph) comes among them and pronounces one saved and the other lost.
Writers have long compared the two prisoners to the two thieves crucified beside Jesus.
So in Joseph in prison we see the suffering Christ. And we see two others suffering with him — Pharaoh's two officers, his chief butler and his chief baker. But they do not suffer like Joseph. He suffered though innocent. They, in all probability, were receiving the "due reward of their deeds," like the two thieves crucified with Christ.
The cupbearer's dream had a vine and a cup. Commentators read both as pictures.
The butler is brought before a vine, with three branches, living and fruitful. Pharaoh's cup (the symbol of God's judgment, Psalm 75:7-8) is in his hand; he takes the grapes and presses them into the cup, and then gives the cup into Pharaoh's hands. That is, the man takes his place in the presence of Christ, the true Vine. He accepts God's judgment and offers the blood of Christ, in the measure of that judgment. God accepts the offering, and the man is forgiven and exalted... There were "three days" in each case: death and resurrection delivers one and condemns the other.
The baker's dream held baskets of bread he had baked himself. Commentators read the contrast as two ways of coming to God.
We see the gospel pictured in these dreams. The chief butler sees that in his dream which speaks of the blood (the juice of the grape). And he was delivered. The chief baker, on the other hand, dreams of that which at once reminds us of human righteousness, the white baskets. He saw only what he had worked to produce, the baked goods. And he is hanged... Here we have "the only two religions" pictured — the one that makes everything depend on the blood of Jesus, and the one that ignores the blood and trusts human righteousness.
The man who got his job back never mentioned Joseph. Yet writers see God's hand even in that silence.
Yet the chief butler in his renewed prosperity forgot about Joseph, and has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, as we believe, the hand of God was over even this. Had the butler remembered, Joseph's deliverance from prison would have been the result of thankful and perhaps respectful human arrangement. God intended to take him out, reviving the butler's memory, in a far more striking way. And not only take him out but also exalt him above the chief of butlers and bakers.
- Word — Joseph said the three branches meant three days. On day three the cupbearer stood in public view with the cup back in his hand.
- Witness — Scripture gives no reason for Pharaoh's decision. The exact fulfilment showed that God was with Joseph.
- Divide — two prisoners looked alike and stood under the same sentence. Joseph pronounced one saved and one lost, like the two men crucified beside Jesus.
- Cup — one man offered the blood of the grape in the cup of judgment, and God forgave him and raised him up. The other offered what his own hands had baked, and Pharaoh hanged him.
- Delay — the restored man forgot Joseph. God used that forgetting to bring Joseph out later in a far more striking way.
And he hanged the chief of the bakers, as Joseph had interpreted to them.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But the chief of the cup-bearers did not remember Joseph, and forgot him.
Joseph had read God's meaning in two prisoners' dreams. He asked one thing in return: that the restored cupbearer would mention him to Pharaoh. The chapter ends on a blank. The man walks back into royal favour and lets his rescuer slip from mind. Why did God let a good man's one hope fail?
Joseph had given this man something no prisoner could be expected to give, and got nothing back for it.
Here as ever, man's extremity is God's opportunity. The chief cupbearer forgot Joseph's service. It was rare, well-timed, and unpaid. No money could have bought it, and God alone could have enabled that prisoner — his name blackened, though he was blameless — to give it. Both predictions came surely true: his own restoration to honour, and his companion's fatal fall. Was it not inexcusable that this stirred no quick gratitude in him, let alone any burning sense of justice, for the suffering prophet?
Some writers read Joseph's plea as a lapse of faith. Prison was testing whether he would look to God alone.
So Joseph, in his day, finds the waiting time in prison a testing time for faith. He too looks for deliverance through human help. He had befriended the king's cupbearer, so he naturally concludes the cupbearer will speak to Pharaoh and get him released... Joseph must learn not only that the help of man is useless, but that God is his only resource.
Commentators differ. Others see no fault in the plea, and read the silence that followed as God's way of working.
With the remarkable prudence that marks his character, he had begged not to be forgotten. But he stayed in irons a little longer. The word of the LORD tested him. God would work in His own way. If the chief cupbearer forgot Joseph in his prosperity, God did not.
A kept promise would have brought Joseph a smaller rescue than a broken one.
In his renewed prosperity the chief cupbearer forgot about Joseph. He has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, as we believe, the hand of God was over even this. If the cupbearer had remembered, a thankful and perhaps respectful human arrangement would have freed him from prison. God intended to bring him out by reviving the cupbearer's memory, in a far more striking way. And not only to bring him out, but to lift him above the chief of cupbearers and bakers.
The waiting dragged on. One kindness never lapsed.
Meanwhile, if man forgets to show Joseph kindness, God will not forget to show him mercy... The devil may tempt us day by day. God may test us by keeping us waiting from day to day. Still He renews His mercy every day...
Set Joseph's plea beside the dying criminal at the cross, and the difference lies in who was asked.
Joseph prayed to be remembered when the chief cupbearer rose again to honour, but the man forgot him. He put his confidence, for the moment, in man, and he was disappointed. The dying criminal, on the other hand, prayed in his distress, but in faith: "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom;" and he received the immediate answer, "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." His confidence was also in a Man. But that Man was the Messiah, David's Son and also David's Lord, and so he was not put to shame... First, it is useless to try to get ahead of the Lord's deliverance by human means, as Joseph was tempted to do. Second, it is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes; and last, "those who wait for me shall not be put to shame" (Isaiah 49:23).
Christ left His own a request that echoes Joseph's plea to the cupbearer.
After telling the chief cupbearer the good news of his deliverance, Joseph says, "Only remember me, when it is well with you." And has not our Joseph said to us about the Lord's Supper, "Do this in remembrance of me"? It was one of His last requests. Shame on us, then, if we hear and believe the good news of our salvation and then forget Him, like the chief cupbearer... And if any have, may you be moved to say, like the ungrateful cupbearer after years of ignoring Joseph's plea, "I remember my offenses today."
- Forgotten by man. The cupbearer got a service no money could buy, and repaid it with silence. He stands as a monument of human ingratitude.
- Remembered by God. Prosperity wiped Joseph from the cupbearer's memory. It could not wipe him from God's. The Lord remembered him, with fresh mercy every day.
- Delayed by design. If the cupbearer had remembered, Joseph would have owed his release to a human favour. God meant to bring him out in a far more striking way, and lift him above every cupbearer.
- Tested, not abandoned. Writers differ on whether the plea was prudence or a lean on human help. They agree the waiting was a test: the word of the LORD tested him.
- Remembering Christ. Joseph asked, "Only remember me, when it is well with you." Christ asks, "Do this in remembrance of me" — the one thing our Deliverer left us not to forget.
And it came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh dreamed, and behold, he stood by the river.
Genesis 41 opens with a date, not an event: two whole years have passed since the cupbearer walked free and left Joseph in prison. Then, in one night, the king of Egypt dreams — and God begins to move a forgotten prisoner toward a throne.
The verse marks a stretch of silence. Joseph had asked the cupbearer to remember him. The cupbearer forgot, and nothing in Joseph's life changed.
But he lay in irons a little longer. The word of the Lord tried him. God would work in His own way. If the chief butler forgot Joseph in his prosperity, God did not.
Kelly is quoting Psalm 105:19; the ESV reads, "the word of the LORD tested him." Another writer looks at those two years from Joseph's own side.
Two full years rolled by, and still Joseph lay in prison. It was a big test. It seemed as if he were forgotten, and might end his days there. He might have been tempted to say, "And is this the answer to my dreams? — hated by my brothers, sold as a slave, thrown into prison, and the one chance of being mentioned to Pharaoh has died out."
Joseph had already stood firm in Potiphar's house. The prison set a different test. Writers call it the harder one.
In the house of Potiphar he has borne a bright witness for God, he has overcome temptation, and endured persecution. In the prison of Pharaoh he must learn not only to witness for God, but to wait for God. This, as we well know, is one of the hardest lessons for the saint to learn. It is one thing to witness for God in the busy world; it is a very different thing to wait for God in the lonely prison. In fact it is impossible to nature.
Joseph had asked the cupbearer to speak for him to Pharaoh. That help never came.
Joseph must not only learn that the help of man is vain, but that God is his only resource... God has His time as well as His way to bring His purposes to pass.
Notice who dreams. Not the prisoner — the king. The chain of people God has used through Joseph's story reaches its last link here.
Joseph had probably hoped for release as soon as the butler returned to his post in Pharaoh's household. But two full years must pass before God's time is reached... Already God had used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler; now He will use the king himself. Moreover, it must be in God's way. It will be "a dream, a vision of the night," by which He will trouble the spirit of Pharaoh and awaken the sleeping memory of Pharaoh's butler.
The dream puts Pharaoh at the river. Egypt's whole life depended on it, and only one man in the country could tell the king what God meant.
Egypt's palaces were very grand. Everything was the best. But why did such a mighty king need a prisoner, Joseph? Because God wanted to speak to Pharaoh. Only Joseph knew the true God, so he alone in all Egypt could help Pharaoh. In Pharaoh's dream he stood on the bank of the River Nile. In Egypt there is no rain. Without the Nile all Egypt would be dry like the desert... So the Egyptians did not worship the true God in heaven. They worshipped the River Nile.
Writers see a larger pattern in this gap: a delay between suffering and glory.
May we not see a forecast here? The sufferings of the Christ are to be followed by His glory in public display. But a time passes in between, in which He is hidden from the eyes of men... It was so in a small way with Joseph. He remained hidden and forgotten in the prison, and the affairs of Egypt moved on without him.
And when the delay ends, it ends fast.
Joseph's advancement and glory seemed to tarry long. All seemed failure and gloom, "Until the time that his word came: the word of the Lord tried him" (Ps. 105:19) — then at one mighty bound he leapt from the prison to the throne.
- Forgotten, not lost — the cupbearer forgot Joseph in his prosperity; God did not.
- Tried by the word — the word of the Lord tested Joseph, and the long wait was the test.
- Waiting, not just witnessing — standing firm in the busy world is one thing. Waiting for God in a lonely prison is harder, and impossible to nature.
- God's time and way — captain, jailer, butler, then the king himself. God stirred Pharaoh's sleep on His own schedule, not the butler's.
- Then, at a bound — one night's dream carried Joseph from the prison to the throne. So the hidden Christ waits for His public glory.
And behold, there came up out of the river seven kine, fine-looking and fat-fleshed, and they fed in the reed-grass.
In his sleep, Pharaoh stands beside the Nile. He watches seven sleek, well-fed cows climb the bank and graze in the reed grass. It looks like an ordinary Egyptian scene. Yet this is God speaking, and the picture will empty a prison and feed a starving world.
Every detail belongs to the country where the dreamer lived. The word for the river points to one river only. The grazing ground is where Egyptian cattle went to feed.
But here in the chapter before us, how wild, strange, and ominous the double dream sent to wake the king! Yet the word used for the "river" points beyond question to the Nile. So does the marsh-grass on its bank, which cattle loved to browse.
The cattle were not chosen at random either.
Sheep were not popular in Egypt and cattle provided the flesh food, and grain gave them their bread. The river Nile was the basis of the prosperity of both.
God chose the one image that touched Egypt's confidence. The Nile never seemed to fail. Its sources lay too far away to trace. So the nation trusted the water instead of the God behind it.
Egypt had to depend too, but not so directly. Its river was its boast. The sources that fed it lay too far away for anyone to notice easily. This is a vivid picture of the world in its self-sufficiency and independence of God.
That habit did not die with Egypt. Writers see it wherever people trust something nearer than God.
This is like the world. They have no need of God. Their springs are all down here. Christians can say, "All my springs are in You." God is the source of all their joys. Their hopes all rest on Christ above. They look to heaven for everything. But the ungodly are not like this. Their resource is some "river." It is gold and stocks and houses and lands with some.
The dream was clear enough to disturb Pharaoh. No one in his court could explain it. That failure was not a one-off.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... as in the past, so now, the wise men of this world are at a total loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh calls in the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men, only to find that no one can interpret his dreams. Man's pride in his own intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God communicates.
The fat cows are the good news in the dream. Writers explain what they stood for, and why God sent the picture at all.
The seven cows meant seven years... The well-fed cows and the good ears of grain showed that there would be seven years of plenty through all the land of Egypt... God does things like this to wake people up. He wants them to realise that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
The same writer reads the dream as a picture of the world's own history.
Seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine that will devour them up — such is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years, and it hardly believes the future so plainly foretold for it. Still, the time of famine is surely not far off. It will display the resources of Him whom men will then see as the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
The cows grazing by the Nile arrive at God's chosen moment. They are the last link in a chain of instruments He had been using.
The right time having come, the last instrument in the hand of God is ready to complete the work that leads to the exaltation of Joseph. Already God had used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler; now He will use the king himself.
Writers find more in the river than Egypt's food supply.
The river Nile shows us God's provision for the needs of Egypt. It also reminds the Christian that God used Pharaoh's dream about the river to bring Joseph before us. Joseph is the man with God's mind, and a picture of the Saviour of the world.
- River — cattle and grain both depended on the Nile. God put His warning in the one image Egypt trusted most.
- Reliance — the river's distant sources let Egypt feel it did not need heaven. Every age finds its own springs to trust.
- Revelation — God spoke plainly enough to trouble a king. No trained mind in Egypt could read the message. Only God interprets what God sends.
- Reversal — the fat cows stand for seven good years, and they get eaten. Blessing rests on God, not on circumstances.
- Rescue — the dream was God's last instrument. It lifted Joseph out of prison to feed a starving world.
And behold, seven other kine came up after them out of the river, bad-looking and lean-fleshed, and stood by the kine on the bank of the river.
Pharaoh is dreaming. Seven fat cows have already come up out of the Nile. Now seven more climb out of the same river — gaunt and ugly — and stand right beside them on the bank. Why would God disturb an Egyptian king with cattle and a river? And why is the plenty shadowed by something so poor?
Both herds come up out of the same river. Egypt's whole life ran on the Nile, and one writer sees in that a picture of the world supplying itself and feeling no need of God.
Egypt had to be dependent too, but not so directly. Its river was its boast, and the sources of that supply were too far away to notice easily. Egypt is a vivid picture of the world in its self-sufficiency and independence of God. They still send scientific expeditions to explore the sources of their unfailing river, and for all their searching they have still not found God.
The river, the marsh grass, the cattle — the whole scene comes from Egyptian life. Yet the dream twists what it borrows.
The word for "river" points without question to the Nile. So does the marsh-grass on its bank, where cattle loved to browse. Dreams often confuse person or object, time and place. Here that confusion goes to the limit. First the ill-looking, lean cattle eat up the fine-looking, fat ones. Then the thin, scorched ears of wheat swallow the fat and good ears that grew on one stalk.
A dream like that demands an explanation.
The same writer explains why God sends both plenty and want. The lean years, he says, do a soul more good than the fat ones.
In a world of sin and suffering, of death and moral ruin and misery, He works both by extraordinary bounty and by the hard pinch of want. And He works for the good of souls more by the pain than by the prosperity. He does this so that in his distress a man's heart might consider why such trouble came from such a God.
Pharaoh saw the cows. Reading them was the problem.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation. God will speak in a vision to Pharaoh, by writing on the wall in King Belshazzar's day, and by great plainness of speech in our day. But as in days gone by, so now, the wise men of this world are completely at a loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men, only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God communicates.
Joseph had been forgotten in prison. These cows came at God's chosen hour, not a day early.
God carries out His plans in His own time, by His own instruments, and in His own way. Joseph had probably expected to go free as soon as Pharaoh restored the butler to his post in the royal household. But two full years must pass before God's time arrives. The right moment has now come. The last instrument in God's hand is ready to complete the work that leads to Joseph's exaltation. God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler; now He will use the king himself.
One writer reads the dream as a prophecy the world has not yet lived through. The lean years, he says, are still ahead.
Seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine that swallow them up — such is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years, and it hardly believes its own plainly predicted future. Yet the time of famine is not far off. It will display the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible demands.
- Same river, two herds. Both come out of the Nile. The river Egypt boasted in carries the famine as well as the plenty.
- Same river, strange picture. The dream uses Egypt's own scenery, then breaks nature's rules. No one could call it an ordinary night's sleep.
- Same river, no interpreter. Egypt's wisest men could see the picture but not read it. Only God can explain what God says.
- Same river, God's timing. Pharaoh, not the cattle, is the last instrument in God's hand — used to lift a forgotten prisoner out of prison at the hour God chose.
- Same river, coming famine. Plenty followed by want is God's pattern still. The lean years will prove that only One has resources enough for them.
And the kine that were bad-looking and lean-fleshed ate up the seven kine that were fine-looking and fat. And Pharaoh awoke.
God speaks to the king of Egypt in his sleep, in pictures the king cannot read. Cows eat cows, Pharaoh wakes, and the chapter now hangs on one question: who can tell him what it means?
The details are Egyptian — the Nile, the marsh grass on its bank. What happens in the dream breaks every law of nature.
But here in the chapter before us, how wild and strange and alarming is the double dream sent to wake the king! Yet the word for "river" points without question to the Nile, and so does the marsh grass on its bank where cattle loved to graze. Dreams often confuse what belongs to a person or an object, to time and place. But this dream goes to the very limit. First the ugly, lean cows eat up the fine-looking fat ones. Then the thin, scorched ears of wheat devour the fat and good ears that grew on one stalk.
The fat cows and the lean ones come up out of the same river.
Again the dreams were prophetic. God was revealing what He was about to bring on the land of Egypt. First come seven years of very great abundance. Then follow seven years of severe scarcity and famine. Both depend on the waters of the Nile. By the end of the seven years of famine, all the fatness of the good years would be gone. In the picture language of the dream, the seven lean cattle would be just as they were at the beginning.
Egypt lived off one river. One writer sees the same pattern in the world at large.
Egypt is a little strip of country on each side of the great river that flows through it. It owes its existence to that river alone... If the river only partly fails for a single year, the land is in distress. The world is like that too. The unbroken flow of God's mercies keeps it alive, when otherwise it could not exist. Yet for all that dependence, the world does not see what it depends on, any more than Egypt saw.
So why would God announce famine at all?
But that purpose was worthy of His goodness and compassion. This is a world of sin and suffering, of death and moral ruin and misery. In it He works both by uncommon generosity and by the hard pinch of want. For the good of souls He works more by the pain than by the prosperity. Then, in his anguish, a person may consider why such an affliction came from such a God. The two dreams taught in puzzling forms, but their aim was the same: abundance to the full, then the most abnormal consumption.
Egypt had its magicians and its wise men. Not one of them could read the dream.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... the wise men of this world are utterly at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all the wise men" of the land. He finds no one who can interpret his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret messages from God.
God gave the meaning to one man only.
To whom did God give the key? To the humbled sufferer in the dungeon. The hour of his vindication was about to strike. In a single bound he would rise from the deepest dishonour, which he had never deserved, to the highest position a subject could fill... The abundance was not to be squandered in a wasteful and harmful way; the famine was to be relieved by a wise policy.
One writer reads the dream forward, taking Egypt's full years as a picture of our own time.
Pharaoh's dream foretells seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine that will devour them up. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years. It puts little faith in the future clearly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
- Sent — cows eating cows breaks every law of nature. This was no ordinary dream, but a message sent to wake a king.
- Shared — fat years and lean years rose out of the same Nile, and the lean cows ended as lean as they began.
- Swallowed — abundance to the full, then abnormal consumption. God teaches more by the pinch of want than by prosperity, so the sufferer asks why.
- Stumped — every expert in Egypt failed. Only God can interpret what God sends.
- Supplied — the key went to the man in the dungeon, and a wise policy met the years of want.
And he slept and dreamed the second time; and behold, seven ears of corn grew up on one stalk, fat and good.
Pharaoh has already woken once, shaken by cattle rising out of the Nile. Now he sleeps again, and a second picture comes: seven full ears of grain growing on one stalk. The repeat is the point. God says one thing twice to a king who does not know who is speaking to him.
The second dream is the same message in new pictures. Both came in one night, and both used what Egypt lived on.
Again dreams enter into the story, this time connected with Pharaoh himself. Pharaoh's dream came in duplicate. The general drift of both dreams was the same, and the fact that both happened in one night was very impressive. Sheep were not popular in Egypt; cattle provided their meat, and grain gave them their bread. The river Nile was the basis of the prosperity of both.
Cattle, grain and Egypt's whole food supply hung on one river. That dependence shaped what Egypt worshipped.
In Egypt there is no rain. Without the Nile all Egypt would be dry like the desert. The Nile has a great flood every year, which waters the land on both sides. The Egyptians always plant their crops where the flood water has been, and so get good crops. That is why the Egyptians did not worship the true God in heaven, but worshipped the River Nile.
The verse counts the ears before it describes them. The number itself carries meaning.
Seven is the familiar number which speaks of completeness and perfection. Seven days make a complete week. The seven fat and lean cattle of Pharaoh's dream, and the many sets of sevens in the book of Revelation, are examples of the same thing.
Pharaoh called in Egypt's best minds and got nothing back. The problem was not a shortage of intelligence.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation. God speaks in a vision to Pharaoh. He writes on the wall in Belshazzar's day. He speaks with great plainness in our day. Yet now, as in past days, the wise men of this world are at a total loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men. He finds that no one can interpret his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple truth: only God can interpret what God has spoken.
The full ears come first, and the empty ones follow. One writer sees God at work in both halves.
In a world of sin and suffering, of death and moral ruin and misery, He works both by extraordinary generosity and by the hard pinch of want. For the good of souls He works more by the pain than by the prosperity. In his distress a man's heart may then ask why such trouble came from such a God. The two dreams were puzzling in form, but identical in aim: abundance to the full, followed by a devouring like nothing in nature.
The seven full ears stand for seven years of plenty. One writer sees them as a picture of our own day, and is careful about how far to press it.
These seven years of great abundance picture, if they do not typify, the present age of grace, and we are glad to live in it. "Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:2). And it will last until the coming of the Lord.
Another writer turns the same picture into a warning about how people treat this present supply.
In this day of grace the world is passing through its seven years of plenty, when the grace of God is handing out blessings by the handful. The people of the world may take no notice at all of the blessings grace brings to their door. They go on their way with no thought for the future.
- Doubled — the same message came twice in one night, first in cattle, then in grain. Pharaoh could not brush it off as a stray dream.
- Borrowed — God used Egypt's own pictures: the Nile, the herds, the harvest. These were the things Egypt trusted and worshipped.
- Locked — every expert in Egypt failed. Only God can explain what God has said.
- Ordered — plenty first, then want. God works through both, and does more good to souls through the pain.
- Now — the full ears picture a present season of grace. People can live in it and still ignore it, and it will not last forever.
And behold, seven ears, thin and parched with the east wind, sprung up after them.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the thin ears devoured the seven fat and full ears. And Pharaoh awoke; and behold, it was a dream.
The second dream ends like the first. What is thin and scorched eats what is full and good, and Pharaoh wakes up. The picture will not leave him, and the chapter now turns on one question: who can tell a king what God is saying to him?
Each dream in Joseph's story fits the person who receives it, and this one was shaped for an Egyptian ruler standing by his own river. One writer traces that fitness and then points out how far this vision pushes past anything nature could produce:
But here in this chapter, how wild and strange and alarming is the double dream sent to wake the king! Yet the word used for "river" points beyond question to the Nile, and so does the word for the reed-grass on its bank, which cattle loved to graze. Dreams often muddle person and object, time and place. Here that confusion is pushed as far as it will go. First the ugly, thin cattle eat up the fine, fat ones. Then the thin, scorched ears of wheat swallow the fat, good ears that grew on one stalk.
The thin ears were dried out by an east wind. That wind carries a settled meaning in Scripture:
The east wind was harmful and destructive to plants (Gen. 41:6, 23, 27) and dangerous to ships at sea (Ps. 48:7; Ezek. 27:26). It is a symbol of the withering power of God's judgments (Hosea 13:15).
Why send a king a vision of loss at all? The same writer ties the strangeness of the dream to God's purpose, and that purpose to His goodness:
Who that believes God's word can doubt that wonders so contrary to nature were all the more clearly of divine purpose? And that purpose was worthy of His goodness and compassion. In a world of sin and suffering, of death and moral ruin and misery, He works both by unusual plenty and by the hard pinch of need. For the good of souls He works more by the pain than by the prosperity. He does this so that in his distress a man's heart might ask why such trouble came from such a God.
Pharaoh wakes with the images still in him, and by morning he has sent for every expert he has. A commentator notes that the failure of those experts exposes something about human confidence:
God will speak in a vision to Pharaoh. He will speak by writing on the wall in Belshazzar's day, and by very plain speech in our own day. But now, as in days gone by, the wise men of this world fail completely when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh calls for the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret" his dreams (v. 8). Man's natural pride of mind blinds him to the simple fact that only God can interpret what God says.
God was also working through the dream, as He had already worked through three other men:
God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's cupbearer. Now He will use the king himself. And it must be done in God's way. It will be "a dream, a vision of the night." By it He will trouble Pharaoh's spirit and wake up the sleeping memory of Pharaoh's cupbearer.
The dream came twice, and both halves ended the same way. One writer explains what the swallowing and the doubling meant:
At the end of the seven years of famine, all the fatness of the good years would be gone. In the picture language of the dream, the seven lean cattle would be just as they were at the start. God also gave Pharaoh the dream twice, so that he might realize the matter was settled, beyond any hope of being reversed, and that God would soon bring it to pass.
Several writers read the two sets of seven as a map of the world's own story. The plenty is now; the reckoning is not:
Seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that will swallow them up — that is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it hardly believes in the future plainly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is certainly not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
- Sent — The dream was no accident of sleep. God shaped it for an Egyptian, and pushed it far past nature.
- Scorched — The wind that dried the ears is Scripture's picture of God's withering judgment.
- Stirred — God used a troubled king, and the king's trouble woke a cupbearer's memory of Joseph.
- Stumped — Every wise man in Egypt failed. Only God can interpret what God says.
- Settled — The dream came twice because the matter was fixed and near. A world enjoying its full years should count on the lean ones.
And it came to pass in the morning, that his spirit was troubled; and he sent and called for all the scribes of Egypt, and all the sages who were therein, and Pharaoh told them his dream; but [there was] none to interpret them to Pharaoh.
Two years after the cupbearer forgot him, Joseph is still in prison. Then a dream troubles Pharaoh; he calls in Egypt's finest minds, and not one of them can explain it.
Joseph's release did not come when the restored cupbearer could have arranged it. God had a timetable, and a last instrument still to use.
God's plans must be carried out in God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way. Joseph probably hoped for release as soon as the cupbearer got his old place back in Pharaoh's household. But two full years must pass before God's time comes. Now that the right time has come, the last instrument in God's hand is ready to finish the work that raises Joseph to his high place. God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's cupbearer; now He will use the king himself. And it must be in God's way. It will be a dream, a vision of the night, by which He will trouble the spirit of Pharaoh and wake up the sleeping memory of Pharaoh's cupbearer (vv. 8, 9).
The men Pharaoh calls in are not entertainers. This is the first place the Bible mentions them, and it treats their craft as a real danger.
Scripture speaks many times of the various forms of what we now call occult science. It strongly condemns any Israelite who has anything to do with it. So it was a real danger, however much trickery went with it at times. We read of it first in Gen. 41:8, when Pharaoh called for all the magicians, chartummim, of Egypt, and the wise men, to interpret his dream. When all their resources failed, God brought His man out of the prison to explain the dream, and this became the occasion for working out God's purposes for Joseph. No doubt these men were famous for their learning, like those at the court of Babylon, where Daniel became their chief. Dan. 4:7, 9.
Their silence had a reason. These men were paid to tell kings good news, and these dreams carried none.
Pharaoh was troubled, for he must have had a vague sense that both dreams pointed to evil. The magicians and wise men of Egypt were helpless. Their evil trade depended on their being able to predict good things for the kings they served (see 1 Kings 22), and both dreams clearly pointed to some evil.
God had already shown what He was about to do. The problem was not missing information.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even then man cannot profit by the revelation. God speaks in a vision to Pharaoh, by writing on the wall in Belshazzar's day, and by very plain speech in our day. Yet then and now, the wise men of this world fail completely when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to "all the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret them to Pharaoh" (v. 8). Man's pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God says.
One writer draws the practical lesson: it settles where you go for answers.
No, my friends, the world can give you no real information about the ways of God, or His purposes. If you want to learn the thoughts of God, you must go to the people of God and the Word of God.
The verse ends in failure, and that failure is the opening. Egypt's collapse stirred one man's guilty conscience.
The king's trouble, the failure of the world's resources, the magicians and wise men of Egypt called in for nothing — all this touched the chief cupbearer's conscience. It brought back what he should never have forgotten. Years before, God had used the man still lying forgotten in the dungeon to give the cupbearer the true meaning of his dream and of his fellow prisoner's dream.
The man God then reaches for carries no credentials the court would value.
God has now destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning." So He falls back on the man He held in reserve, "a man in whom is the Spirit of God." But God's man is always of little account in the eyes of the world. This man is destined to hold power that no mortal before or since has ever held. For now he lies in a prison, counted among what the world calls "low and despised."
- Time. God works in His time. Two years passed, and then He used the king himself.
- Way. God works in His way. A dream troubled Pharaoh's spirit and woke the cupbearer's sleeping memory.
- Wisdom. Egypt's learned men were helpless. Their trade was predicting good news, and these dreams pointed to evil.
- Word. God had already shown what He was about to do. Only God can interpret what God says.
- Man. With the wisdom of the wise brought to nothing, God turns to His own man — despised, in prison, and about to be lifted high.
Then spoke the chief of the cup-bearers to Pharaoh, saying, I remember mine offences this day.
Pharaoh has just woken from two dreams. No one in Egypt can explain them. The man who could have spoken up two years earlier has said nothing all that time. His first words are not about Joseph. They are about himself. The ESV calls them "offenses"; older translations read "faults."
The cupbearer did not turn thoughtful on his own. Something outside him forced the issue: the king was stuck, and every expert in the country had come up empty.
The king was troubled. The world's resources failed. Pharaoh summoned Egypt's magicians and its wise men, and it was all in vain. All this touched the chief butler's conscience and brought back to his memory what he ought never to have forgotten. No one remembered the man still lying in the dungeon. Yet years ago God had used him to interpret the butler's own dream truly, and his fellow prisoner's too.
What makes the forgetting so striking is the size of what he had received.
The chief butler forgot Joseph's service. It was rare, it came at the right moment, and no one paid for it. No money could have bought it. God alone could have enabled that blackened but blameless prisoner to give it. His own restoration to honour came true, and so did his companion's fatal downfall. Yet neither stirred any quick gratitude in him for the suffering prophet, let alone a burning sense of justice. Was that not inexcusable?
The words he chooses are worth weighing. He does not begin with Joseph's usefulness. He begins by owning his own wrong. Then he tells the whole story, including the part that shames him.
Repentance, too, is for sinful man the necessary condition of blessing to the soul. God's goodness is what leads to it. Repentance is wholesome and steadying for anyone who really judges himself before God and honestly owns his guilt. "I remember my faults this day." It was no mere terror of consequences that confessed how much he was to blame. "Pharaoh was angry with his servants, and put me in custody in the house of the captain of the guard, me and the chief baker." He hides nothing of his shame or danger.
From Joseph's side those two years looked like nothing but loss. Commentators read them instead as deliberate timing. God was working out a plan through a chain of people who never knew He was using them.
God's plans, however, must be carried out in God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way. Joseph had probably looked forward to release as soon as Pharaoh restored the butler to his place in the household. But two full years must pass before God's time comes… God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler. Now He will use the king himself. Moreover, it must be in God's way. It will be "a dream, a vision of the night." By it He will trouble the spirit of Pharaoh and wake the sleeping memory of Pharaoh's butler.
An earlier rescue would have been a smaller one. A word in Pharaoh's ear back then might have got Joseph out of prison, but no further.
Yet once he was prosperous again, the chief butler forgot about Joseph. He has become a standing monument of human ingratitude. Still, as we believe, the hand of God was over even this. If the butler had remembered, some thankful and perhaps respectful human arrangement would have brought Joseph out of prison. God intended to take him out, by reviving the butler's memory, in a far more striking way. And not only take him out but also exalt him above the highest of butlers and bakers.
One writer turns the cupbearer's words into a warning for Christians.
Joseph said to the chief butler, after telling him the good news of his deliverance, "Only remember me, when it is well with you." And hasn't our own Joseph said to us about the Lord's Supper, "Do this in remembrance of me"? It was one of His last requests. Shame on us, then, if, like the chief butler, after hearing and believing the good news of our salvation, we forget Him… And if any have, may you be moved to say, like the ungrateful butler, after years of neglecting Joseph's request, "I do remember my faults this day."
- Forgotten. The cupbearer owed his life to a service no money could buy. He let it slip from mind for two years — a standing example of human ingratitude.
- Exposed. Egypt's wisdom failed in front of the king. That touched his conscience and dragged the memory back.
- Owned. He starts with his own wrong, not with Joseph's usefulness. He hides nothing of his shame. This is self-judgment, not just fear of consequences.
- Timed. The delay was not neglect. It was God's time, God's instruments, and God's way — a dream that woke a sleeping memory.
- Enlarged. A remembered promise would have won Joseph a quiet release. A forgotten one brought him before the throne and raised him above them all.
Pharaoh was wroth with his bondmen, and put me in custody into the captain of the life-guard's house, me and the chief of the bakers.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And we dreamed a dream in one night, I and he; we dreamed each according to the interpretation of his dream.
Standing before Pharaoh, the butler remembers a night in prison two years earlier, when he and the chief baker each dreamed. That memory is what opens the door for Joseph — but why should two prisoners' dreams matter to the throne of Egypt?
The butler's own words point to where these dreams came from. Not every dream carries a message from God.
These dreams of the butler and baker were "according to the interpretation," words which imply that they were of God. For dreams have two sources. Either God sends them, or they rise from a mind full of business (Joel 2:28, Ecclesiastes 5:3). In them God may reveal His mind. Or they may be only "various vanities," the fruit of our own passions or needs (Ecclesiastes 5:7, Isaiah 29:8).
Two men dreamed on one night. Joseph read something in that timing.
Both men dreamed dreams that fitted each of them, and in one night. Joseph did not put that down to what men call chance. They were sad because no one was there to explain dreams they felt were of the deepest concern to them. Just as simply, Joseph reckoned that interpretations belong to God, the giver of every good gift and every perfect gift. So He is the answerer of faith's cry to Him, though unheard by any other ear.
The butler does not remember Joseph out of gratitude. He remembers because the court has run out of answers.
The king was troubled. The world's resources failed. Egypt's magicians and its wise men came, and they were no help. All this touched the chief butler's conscience and brought back to his memory what he ought never to have forgotten. Years before, God had used a man who still lay in the dungeon, forgotten by everyone, to give the true meaning of his dream and his fellow prisoner's. The king's confusion reminded him how sad the two of them had been, before light from above came — light that brought him his own immense relief, and brought his comrade a shameful end.
Joseph gave the true meaning of those dreams long before Pharaoh heard of them. Then nothing happened for two years.
What a test those two years must have been! No wonder Psalm 105:19 says of him, "until what he had said came to pass, the word of the LORD tested him." His dreams carried the word of the Lord, and they pointed to his future glory. But how long he had to wait for it! A trying experience indeed!
Other writers see order in the delay. God used one man after another.
God must carry out His plans in His own time, by His own instruments, and in His own way. Joseph probably looked forward to an immediate release when the butler went back to his position in Pharaoh's household. But two full years must pass before God's time came… God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler. Now He will use the king himself.
Had the prison dreams never happened, Pharaoh's dreams would have led nowhere.
So you can see that Pharaoh's dreams came in their right order. The chief butler dreamed first, and Joseph gave him the meaning of it. If that had not come before Pharaoh's dreams, nothing would have happened. They would have been unrelated incidents, not affecting each other.
Writers draw a line from Joseph in prison to God's people now. He had nothing, yet he could tell what God was doing.
God's people may be poor, "I have no silver and gold," lonely, in prison, and forgotten there, like Joseph. But "God is with them." Their calling, and their praise now, is patience with self-denial and a holy keeping of their separation to God. But even in the humiliation, they have "treasures of wisdom and knowledge" in Christ. They can interpret the dreams that tell out God's purposes.
- God speaks. The dreams came "with their own interpretation" — a mark that God sent them, not a busy mind.
- God arranges. Two men dreaming on one night was not chance; interpretations belong to God, who answers a cry no one else hears.
- God times. His plans run on His clock, by His instruments, in His way — which here meant two more years in prison for Joseph.
- God remembers. The butler forgot Joseph. The king's trouble stirred his conscience and brought Joseph back to mind.
- God connects. Without the prison dreams, Pharaoh's dreams lead nowhere. Small, forgotten events were links in one chain.
And there was there with us a Hebrew youth, a bondman of the captain of the life-guard, to whom we told [them], and he interpreted to us our dreams; to each he interpreted according to his dream.
Pharaoh's dreams had beaten every expert in Egypt. Only then did the cupbearer remember the prisoner who had read his own dream two years earlier, and his brief words about that young Hebrew servant raise the questions this chapter turns on: why God left Joseph forgotten so long, and why He chose such an unlikely man to speak for Him.
The cupbearer speaks up only because everyone else has failed. God had spoken, and Egypt's trained experts could make nothing of it.
First God reveals what He is about to do, yet even then man gains nothing from what is revealed. God speaks in a vision to Pharaoh, by writing on the wall in Belshazzar's day, and by very plain speech in our day. But now, as in days gone by, the wise men of this world fail completely when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh turns to "all the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret them." Man's natural pride in his own mind blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God says.
Before the cupbearer mentions Joseph, he mentions himself. One writer reads his opening words as real self-judgment, not just fear of what might happen to him.
For sinful man, repentance is also the necessary condition of blessing to the soul. God's goodness is what leads to it. It is healthy and steadying for the man who truly judges himself before Him and honestly admits his fault. "I remember my offenses today." This was no mere fear of the consequences; he confessed how much he was to blame... He hides nothing of his shame or his danger. He tells how the two of them had dreams on the same night, and how they told them to the young Hebrew, their fellow prisoner in the royal prison, who interpreted them at once.
The cupbearer describes Joseph by age, race and rank: young, foreign, owned by another. That is how the world values the man God keeps in reserve.
Having destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning," God falls back on the man He has kept in reserve, "a man in whom is the Spirit of God." But God's man always counts for little in the eyes of the world. This man will one day hold power that no mortal, before or since, has ever held. For now he is wasting away in a prison, counted among "what is low and despised in the world." Yet he is the one God has chosen to "shame the strong" and to "bring to nothing things that are"... Joseph is "a young Hebrew" and "a servant," in a dungeon. But God is with him, so he can go beyond the wisdom of the wise and stand without fear in front of the king.
Joseph had asked the cupbearer to remember him, and the cupbearer forgot. One writer sees God's hand even in that.
Yet once the chief cupbearer had his position back, he forgot about Joseph. He has become a lasting monument to human ingratitude. Still, we believe God's hand was over even this. If the cupbearer had remembered, Joseph would have come out of prison by a grateful and respectful human arrangement. God meant to bring him out in a far more striking way, by waking the cupbearer's memory. And not only bring him out, but raise him far above the greatest of cupbearers and bakers.
Another writer sets the same delay against God's timing, and the people He used one after another.
But God carries out His plans in God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way. Joseph had probably expected release as soon as Pharaoh restored the cupbearer to his place in the royal household. But two full years had to pass before God's time came... God had already used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's cupbearer; now He will use the king himself.
One writer sees Joseph as a picture of Christ: rejected, unjustly punished, then raised to authority.
Joseph was a picture of Him, first, in this. Christ is "the Prophet who is to come." He would go through every grief and shame, yet be God's wisdom while He was humbled. His brothers rejected Him. The Gentiles punished Him unjustly, though He was the righteous One. Then He was raised out of the depths to hold the authority of the kingdom outside Israel and the land, to the great relief of Israel and Egypt.
- Forgotten — two years passed with no word for Joseph; God's plans run on God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way.
- Remembered — the cupbearer recalled Joseph only after Egypt's experts failed; only God can interpret what God sends.
- Confessed — "I remember my offenses today" is honest self-judgment, not panic; he hides nothing of his shame.
- Despised — "a young Hebrew" and "a servant" is the world's valuation of God's man; he is still the one God chose to shame the strong.
- Lifted — an earlier release would have been a human favour. God waited and brought Joseph out far higher — a picture of One rejected, then raised out of the depths.
And it came to pass, just as he interpreted to us, so it came about me has he restored to my office, and him he hanged.
The chief butler stands before a troubled king. His evidence is one plain fact: what the young Hebrew prisoner said would happen, happened. That short testimony opens the prison door and sets Joseph on the road to the throne.
The butler is not giving an opinion about Joseph. He is reporting a result. One writer traces that result past Joseph to God.
He hides nothing of his shame or danger. He tells how the two of them had dreams on the same night, and repeated them to the young Hebrew, their fellow prisoner in the state prison. He interpreted them at once. Both came true, with a sharply different outcome for each — as surprising as they were distinct and immediate: "I was restored to my office, and the baker was hanged." The same God who sent the dreams to the two Egyptian officials explained their prophetic meaning through Joseph, and carried them out by Pharaoh in His providence. No wonder Pharaoh was so deeply moved that he sent and called the long and deeply wronged prisoner out of the dungeon into the royal presence. Gates and guards, bars and bolts had to give him up without delay.
The same man spoke to both prisoners on the same day, and the outcomes could not have been further apart.
In both cases the time was short, as indicated by the dream and interpreted by Joseph. On the third day, the king's birthday, he lifted up the head of each of the two officials. But the chief cup-bearer rose to his office near Pharaoh, and the chief baker to the gallows.
Pharaoh had already asked his own experts before the butler spoke up, and they failed.
No, my friends, the world can give you no real information about the ways of God, or His purposes. If you are to learn the thoughts of God, you must go to the people of God, and the Word of God.
Two years separate that fulfilment from this moment. Joseph spent them in prison.
In this situation the chief butler's memory revived. He remembered Joseph, and told Pharaoh how remarkably accurate his interpretation had been — of his own dream and the chief baker's — two full years before. What a test those two years must have been! No wonder Psalm 105:19 says of him, "the word of the LORD tested him." The word of the Lord by his dreams had pointed to his future glory. But how long he had to wait for it! A trying experience indeed!
The delay was not an accident of a bad memory. Commentators see God working through the very man who failed Joseph.
In Genesis 39 Satan uses Potiphar's wife, and in Genesis 40 he uses Pharaoh's chief butler. The first he used to put Joseph into the dungeon. The second he used to keep him there, through his ungrateful neglect. But it was all in vain. God was behind the scenes.
Joseph had asked one thing: to be remembered. One writer turns the butler's forgetfulness into a question for every reader.
Joseph tells the chief butler the good news of his deliverance, and then says, "remember me, when it is well with you." And has not our Joseph said the same to us about the Lord's Supper: "Do this in remembrance of me"? It was one of His last requests. Shame on us, then, if, like the chief butler, after hearing and believing the good news of our salvation, we forget Him.
Commentators read Joseph's rise from prison as a picture of Christ.
Joseph is the picture; Christ is the glorious reality. With both, every downward step in the path of suffering was only a further stage on the way to glory. His service in the days of His flesh prepares for His rule as King of kings and Lord of lords. The false witnesses who rose up against Him will bow down before Him. Every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that He is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. The day is not far off when the "poor wise Man" that no man remembered shall be "in everlasting remembrance."
- Forgotten — the butler said nothing for two years. God used that neglect to hold Joseph in prison until the right moment.
- Remembered — Pharaoh's trouble woke the butler's conscience. His report of Joseph is the hinge of the whole story.
- Proved — the restoring and the hanging showed this was no clever guess. The God who sent the dreams also brought them to pass.
- Tested — while Joseph waited, "the word of the LORD tested him." The promise of glory and the long wait belong to one plan.
- Raised — the pattern runs on to Christ. The wise man no one remembered will be in everlasting remembrance. Every downward step was a step toward glory.
Then Pharaoh sent and called Joseph; and they brought him hastily out of the dungeon. And he shaved [himself], and changed his clothes, and came in to Pharaoh.
Joseph has been in prison for years on a charge he never earned, and the one man who owed him a favour has forgotten him. Then, in a single verse, the king sends, the gates open, and the prisoner stands before the throne of Egypt. What was God doing in the long silence before that summons?
One writer traces how God had been moving one person after another into place long before this verse.
God's plans, however, must be carried out in God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way. Joseph had probably expected an immediate release when the butler returned to his position in Pharaoh's household. But two full years must pass before God's time comes. Now that the due time has come, the last instrument in God's hand is ready to finish the work that lifts Joseph to honour. Already God had used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler, now He will use the king himself.
The butler's forgetfulness kept Joseph in the dungeon, yet the delay worked in his favour.
Here as ever, man's extremity is God's opportunity. The chief butler forgot Joseph's service. It was rare, well-timed and unpaid. No money could have bought it, and God alone could have enabled that blackened but blameless prisoner to give it… But the patience of God is as instructive as His wisdom is reliable, and His love never fails… God still let Joseph endure hard things. He let the chief butler confess his faults, and the king be as troubled as the officials he had imprisoned. And He let Joseph come out in a brightness far greater than any repeating of his predictions in the dungeon could have given.
The word "quickly" is not decoration. Once God's hour struck, nothing in Egypt could hold Joseph. Yet he still came in with proper respect for the court.
No wonder Pharaoh was so moved that he sent and called this long and deeply wronged prisoner from the dungeon into the royal presence. The officials lost not a moment in bringing him: the best possible witness had told the king such good things about him. Gates and guards, bars and bolts, must yield him up without delay. Yet he must come with proper care and respect for the customs of the court.
Joseph shaves and dresses for a king, but nobody reopens his case. The false charge is left where it lies.
Pharaoh sent for Joseph at once, and he came shaved and with a change of clothing. No one mentioned why he had been put in prison. So far as the record goes, no one ever cleared him of the false charge against him. He clearly left this in the hand of God, who knows how to care for His servant's reputation.
One writer sees Christ Himself in the prison scene, and reads the shaving and change of clothes as the sign of a new era.
…Christ is found among the captive and afflicted. His presence and words must divide them into two groups, saved and lost — the butler and the baker split apart like the repentant and unrepentant thieves at the cross. When that work is done, Joseph shaves and changes his clothing. That is, he takes on a new order of things and changes his outward appearance. He rises from the dungeon to the throne, to open a new millennial era.
One writer sees a greater story in Joseph's road: men put him in the place of death, and God lifted him out.
He was rejected and thrown into the pit. He passed, in figure, through the deep waters of death, and so reached the place of dignity and glory. He was raised from the dungeon to be ruler over the land of Egypt, and the preserver and sustainer of his brothers. The iron entered into his soul. He had to taste the bitterness of the place of death before he entered the sphere of glory. A striking type of Him who hung upon the cross, lay in the grave, and is now on the throne of the majesty of heaven.
- Time — God set the hour for Joseph's release. The two forgotten years were not wasted; they were the wait for it.
- Instruments — captain, jailer, butler, then the king himself. God moved each one into place before the door opened.
- Haste — when the hour came, bars and guards gave way at once, though Joseph still came in fit for a king's presence.
- Reputation — no one ever cleared his name. He left it in God's hands instead of defending it.
- Glory — the pit, the dungeon, then the throne. Christ walked the same road: the cross, the grave, and now the throne of heaven.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, I have dreamt a dream, and there is none to interpret it. And I have heard say of thee, thou understandest a dream to interpret it.
Pharaoh has told his dream to every wise man in Egypt and got nothing back. Now he turns to a Hebrew prisoner, and the verse raises the chapter's real question: where does understanding of God's mind come from?
Pharaoh comes to Joseph only after every other door has closed. God may speak plainly, but that does not put His meaning within reach of clever men.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... the wise men of this world are utterly at fault in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret" his dreams (v. 8). Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that communications from God can only be interpreted by God.
Pharaoh's words credit Joseph with an ability. Joseph's reply refuses the compliment — and then says more than the king asked for.
God falls back on the man He had kept in reserve, "a man in whom is the Spirit of God." But God's man is always of little account in the eyes of the world... Pharaoh, speaking as a natural man, at once says, "I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it." Joseph immediately confesses, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. They may be learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians. They may hold the highest positions in the king's court. Joseph, by contrast, is "a young man, a Hebrew, a slave," in a dungeon. But God is with him. So he can surpass the wisdom of the wise, stand without fear before the king, and say with complete confidence, "God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace." He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," true as that would have been. Faith goes beyond what God can do and states what God will do.
Joseph could have taken the reputation Pharaoh offered him. He refused it, and Paul later strikes the same note.
His answer to Pharaoh's enquiry reveals his simple confidence in God. He disclaimed any power or wisdom in himself but declared that God would give an answer of peace. It is a mark of a true servant of God to say, "It is not in me." We see the same spirit in Paul: "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God" (2 Cor. 3:5).
Why did God keep showing him what no one else could see?
Joseph disclaims any personal ability or gift for this. He tells Pharaoh that God only can give the answer. This simple confidence in God was the secret of Joseph's receiving such revelations from Him.
The man who explains everything has just come from a prison where nothing was explained to him. One writer ties that rejection to the cross.
Interpretations belong to God. All through this, the Lord was with him, though he was rejected and completely forgotten like a dead man out of mind. It is as the rejected one that he becomes the interpreter. There is no true interpretation without the cross. It is there that God's interpretation has its place and its ways are carried out. In the principle of it — moral principle — is the wisdom of God... The whole interpretation belongs to Joseph in his low estate. Then, after righteous humiliation and wisdom, comes exaltation to power at the right hand of the throne.
The same pattern runs through Christ and then through His people: despised, yet holding what the world cannot supply.
In Jesus, as in Joseph, it was clear that God's covenant was with Him, even in weakness and rejection. He was God's object, and all blessing passed through His hand, though He was in shame and poverty... And so in His saints now in measure. They may be despised, but they "have the mind of Christ." They are in the secrets of God. They know the love of the Father, the judgment of the world, and the coming kingdom and power of Jesus. And of these secrets they bear witness to sinners, as Joseph told of the secrets of God to Pharaoh, and his servants. They tell both of judgment and of mercy, as he did.
- Dead end. Pharaoh's experts had the dream and no meaning; what God sends, only God can explain.
- Disclaimer. Joseph refuses the reputation Pharaoh offers: "It is not in me." That is the mark of a real servant, matched by Paul's "our sufficiency is from God."
- Declaration. He does not say God can answer but that God will, and that plain trust is why God kept speaking through him.
- Dungeon. The interpreter is the rejected man. The low place comes first, the throne afterwards.
- Duty. Those who hold God's secrets speak them where no one else can, telling both judgment and mercy.
And Joseph answered Pharaoh, saying, It is not in me God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace.
Joseph comes straight from a dungeon to the throne room. Egypt's king has had a dream, and he greets Joseph as a man who can interpret dreams. Joseph's first words push the credit away from himself and give the whole matter to God. He promises not just an answer, but a peaceful one. (Where the ESV reads "a favorable answer," the older wording the commentators use is "an answer of peace.")
Joseph stood before the most powerful man on earth. He could have accepted the reputation handed to him. Instead he took no credit for himself, and pointed Pharaoh to God.
His answer to Pharaoh's question reveals his simple confidence in God. He disclaimed any power or wisdom in himself but declared that God would give an answer of peace. It is a mark of a true servant of God to say, "It is not in me." We see the same spirit in Paul: "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God" (2 Cor. 3:5).
So what made Joseph the one to whom God revealed such things?
Joseph tells Pharaoh that only God can give the answer, but he also indicates that God would give him an answer of peace. This simple confidence in God was the secret of why Joseph received such revelations from Him.
Learning and rank did not give Egypt's wise men the answer. Watch the one word that sets Joseph's reply apart.
It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. They may be learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians and hold the highest positions in the king's court. Joseph, on the other hand, is "a young man, a Hebrew, a slave," in a dungeon. But God is with him. So he can surpass the wisdom of the wise, stand without fear in front of the king, and say with complete confidence, "God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace." He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," however true that would have been. Faith goes beyond what God can do and states plainly what God will do.
Pressure did not produce this answer. The same reflex shows up everywhere in Joseph's life — under temptation, in prison, and later with the brothers who sold him.
Wherever he was, God was in all his thoughts. When tempted, he said, "How can I… sin against God?" When he came before Pharaoh, his first words were, "God will give…" When he told his brothers who he was, he said, "Do not be distressed or angry with yourselves, for God sent me before you." When they distrusted him, he said, "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?" When he was punished for his honourable conduct and thrown into the dungeon, he asked his fellow prisoners, "Do not interpretations belong to God?"
Joseph had not yet heard the dream. His promise of peace rested on what he knew of God. One writer sees God's care here reaching past Pharaoh to the prisoner himself.
Joseph replies with a modest and godly disclaimer about himself, but with faith in God's willingness and goodness in the matter… Behind His goodwill to people, and to those He has set in authority, He cared deeply for the prophet who had suffered so long for righteousness and for His name's sake.
Joseph speaks these words as a forgotten prisoner. One writer sees the low place he speaks from as the key to the whole scene.
Interpretations belong to God. All through this, the Lord was with him, though he was rejected in this way and forgotten completely, like a dead man out of mind. It is as a man rejected like this that he becomes the interpreter. There is no true interpretation without the cross. It is there that God's interpretation has its place… then after righteous humiliation and wisdom comes exaltation to power at the right hand of the throne.
- Empty. "It is not in me" is not false modesty. It is the honest starting point of every true servant of God. Paul stands on the same ground: our sufficiency is from God.
- Trusting. That same emptiness opened the way. Simple confidence in God was the secret of why the revelation came to Joseph.
- Certain. Faith did not stop at what God can do. Joseph announced what God will do, before he had heard a word of the dream.
- Consistent. God filled his thoughts under temptation, in the dungeon, before the king, and with his brothers. One habit of mind, tested in four places.
- Peaceful. The answer promised peace because it came from a God who is willing and good. And it came through a rejected man who was later raised to the right hand of the throne.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, In my dream, behold, I stood on the bank of the river.
Pharaoh has already tried the experts of Egypt and found no one who could tell him what his two dreams meant. So he retells the dream himself, to a man who was in a dungeon that same morning, starting where the dream started — on the bank of the Nile.
Egypt lived off that one river, and the nation worshipped it. The king who ruled it all had to send for a prisoner.
Why did such a mighty king need a prisoner, Joseph? Because God wanted to speak to Pharaoh. Only Joseph knew the true God, so he alone in all Egypt could help Pharaoh. In Pharaoh's dream he stood on the bank of the River Nile. In Egypt there is no rain. Without the Nile all Egypt would be dry like the desert. The Nile has a great flood every year, so it waters the land on both sides... So the Egyptians did not worship the true God in heaven. They worshipped the River Nile, and crocodiles from it, and such things.
The dream shook the king awake, and its wording is unmistakably Egyptian.
But here in the chapter before us, how wild and strange and alarming the double dream sent to wake the king! Yet the word used for "river" points beyond question to the Nile. So does the word for the marsh-grass on its bank, where cattle loved to graze.
The cows that came up out of that river turned out to be years.
The Nile is the source of Egypt's water supply and prosperity. Joseph told Pharaoh that the seven cows were seven years. First would come seven years of plenty. Then seven years of famine would eat them up.
The butler forgot Joseph for two years. Both the delay and the dream were God's choice.
God's plans, however, must be carried out in God's time, by God's instruments, and in God's way. Joseph had probably hoped for release as soon as the butler got his job back in Pharaoh's household. But two full years must pass before God's time is reached. Now that the time has come, the last instrument in God's hand is ready to finish the work that leads to Joseph's exaltation. Already God had used the king's captain, the king's jailer, and the king's butler; now He will use the king himself. Moreover, it must be in God's way. It will be "a dream, a vision of the night," by which He will trouble the spirit of Pharaoh and wake the sleeping memory of Pharaoh's butler.
Pharaoh could repeat the dream word for word and still not know what it meant.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... the wise men of this world are utterly at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God has said.
Joseph came from a prison cell into the throne room, and took no credit for himself.
...he is the chosen of God to "confound the mighty" and "bring to nothing the things that are." So Joseph comes from the dungeon into the presence of earth's most powerful ruler. Pharaoh, speaking as a natural man, at once says, "I have heard it said of you that you can understand a dream to interpret it." Joseph at once confesses, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. But God was with him. So he can surpass the wisdom of the wise, stand without fear before the king, and say with complete confidence, "God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace." He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," however true that would have been. Faith goes beyond what God can do, and states plainly what God will do.
Commentators read Joseph's whole story as a picture of Christ.
Joseph, with all his dreams and interpreting, gives us "the wisdom of God," but himself a despised one. Soon after we get him shown as the "power of God." He is a distinct figure of Christ, rejected by his brothers and sold to the Gentiles. There he shows himself as the patient, godly one, with the wisdom of God, while he is his father's delight too. Then he is exalted to the right hand of power.
- Source. Pharaoh stands by the Nile — Egypt's water, wealth and god. God speaks to a nation where it trusts itself most.
- Silence. God gave the dream but not its meaning. Every expert failed, because only God can interpret what God says.
- Timing. Two forgotten years ended when God's hour struck. Captain, jailer, butler, king — God used each one to move Joseph toward the throne.
- Emptiness. "It is not in me" is what qualified Joseph. The man with nothing of his own could promise the king an answer of peace.
- Reach. One dream marked out seven years of plenty and seven of famine. It also lifted up a despised man who carried God's wisdom — commentators see in him Christ, rejected and then raised to power.
And behold, there came up out of the river seven kine, fat-fleshed and of fine form, and they fed in the reed-grass.
Pharaoh is telling his dream a second time, now to Joseph, and what he describes is an everyday sight in Egypt: healthy cattle coming up out of the Nile to graze on its banks. The question is why no one in Egypt can tell the king what this scene from his own country means, and who can.
Pharaoh goes back over the whole vision for Joseph, and tells it with more force than the first time.
The king tells Joseph at once about his dream, and that there is no one to interpret it. He had heard of Joseph as one who could. Joseph answers modestly and reverently, taking nothing to himself, but with faith in God's willingness and goodness in the matter. Then Pharaoh tells it again in even stronger terms than the first time. He describes the two sets of cattle and the two sets of grain, and the lean and ugly ones eating up the good and fine-looking ones that came before.
The words are exact. The river is one particular river, and the reed grass is the growth along its bank. Yet what happens there is wild and strange.
In this chapter, how wild and strange and startling the double dream is that God sent to wake the king! Yet the word for "river" points beyond any question to the Nile, and so does the marsh-grass on its bank, which cattle loved to graze on. Dreams often confuse what belongs to a person or object, to a time or place. Here that confusion goes to the very limit. First the ugly, lean cattle eat up the fine-looking, fat ones. Then the thin, scorched ears of wheat devour the fat and good ears that grew on one stalk.
The impossibility is the proof of where it came from. Kelly adds that wonders so contrary to nature were plainly of divine purpose, and that God works for the good of souls "more by the pain than by the prosperity, that in his anguish the heart might consider why such an affliction came from such a God."
Everything in Egypt came up out of that water. Commentators see in it a picture of a whole way of living.
They were, in a way, independent of God. They had their river Nile to irrigate the country, and were not at all dependent on the dew and rain of heaven... This is like the world. They have no need of God. Their springs are all down here. Christians can say, "All my springs are in you." God is the source of all their joys... The ungodly are not so. Their resource is some "river." With some it is gold and stocks and houses and land. Give others the ballroom, the theatre, the cards and the novels, and they are satisfied. Egypt had its river, and the world, which spiritually is called Egypt, has its river too.
Pharaoh had the dream. Egypt's experts could not tell him what it meant.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... as in the days that are past, so now, the wise men of this world are completely at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all the wise men of it," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that communications from God can only be interpreted by God.
Joseph turns the healthy cattle into a measure of time, not of livestock. He also warns that famine can swallow plenty without trace.
God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt. The seven cows signified seven years, and the seven good ears of grain signified seven years... The well fed cows and the good ears of grain meant seven years of rich harvests through all the land of Egypt. The lean cows and the thin ears of grain foretold seven years of famine to follow. Then, because the famine would be so severe, the good years would be forgotten, as though eaten up by the bad years with no helpful result. God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
One writer reads the years of plenty as a picture of the world right now.
Seven years of plenty to be followed by seven years of famine, which will devour them — such is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it barely believes the future plainly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will show the resources of Him who alone can meet its terrible demands.
Hamilton Smith presses the same picture into the present tense: during the good years it was Joseph, not the Egyptians, who went through the land gathering, and "today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace."
- River. Egypt's cattle came up out of the Nile, and Egypt lived off that river. Its springs were all down here. It looked down for supply, not up.
- Riddle. Fat cattle eaten by lean ones is against nature. That strangeness is the point: God sent the dream to wake the king.
- Reader. God gave Pharaoh the dream, but not its meaning. Only God can interpret what God sends, so Egypt's experts stood helpless.
- Reckoning. The seven healthy cattle stood for seven years. God measured the plenty out in advance, to teach that blessing rests on Him, not on circumstances.
- Reminder. The world is still in its years of plenty. The famine ahead will show the One who alone can meet it.
And behold, seven other kine came up after them, poor, and very ill-formed, and lean-fleshed -- such as I never saw in all the land of Egypt for badness.
Pharaoh is retelling his dream to Joseph. At the second set of cattle his words grow stronger than the first account: nothing in Egypt had ever looked so bad. Two questions follow. Why would God warn a pagan king at all? And why could no one in his court explain the dream?
The chapter opens with the dream itself. Repeating it to Joseph, Pharaoh uses sharper words, as one commentator notes:
The king at once tells Joseph of his dream, and that there was no one to interpret it; he had heard of Joseph as one who could. Joseph answers, modestly and reverently disclaiming any power of his own, but with faith in God's willingness and goodness in the matter. Then Pharaoh recounts it in even more forceful terms than at first — the two sets of cattle, the two sets of grain, the lean and ugly devouring the good and healthy ones that came before. Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by as many years of famine, beyond anything known.
Pharaoh had already taken the dream to the experts of his kingdom. They gave him nothing. One writer says that failure was no accident:
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... the wise men of this world are completely at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all the wise men of it," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that communications from God can only be interpreted by God.
The ugly cattle stood for years, not for one bad season. And nothing filled them:
Again the dreams were prophetic. God was revealing what He was about to bring on the land of Egypt. First, seven years of very great abundance. Then seven years of severe scarcity and famine would follow. Both depended on the waters of the Nile. At the end of the seven years of famine all the richness of the good years would have disappeared. In the picture-language of the dream the seven lean cattle would be just as they were at the beginning. What is more, God gave the dream twice so that Pharaoh might realise the thing was settled. Nothing could call it back, and God would soon bring it to pass.
God gives the plentiful years, and He can wipe out every trace of them. One writer names His purpose:
God had chosen to reveal to an Egyptian king what He planned to do. The well-fed cows and the good ears of grain showed that there would be seven years of plentiful produce through all the land of Egypt. The lean cows and the thin ears of grain were prophetic of seven years of famine to follow. Then, because of the severity of the famine, the good years would be forgotten as though eaten up by the bad years with no helpful result. God does such things to wake people up. Their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
One writer reads the two sets of cattle as a picture of the present time of God's generosity, and a time of need still to come:
Seven years of plenty to be followed by seven years of famine which will devour them up — such is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years, and it little believes in its plainly predicted future. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible emergencies.
The dream gave Pharaoh a deadline. Another writer draws the contrast with us:
God has given us, not a dream, but the Bible. In it, He tells of coming judgment. Pharaoh knew he had seven years to get ready. We do not know how long we have to get ready, and then we shall never have another chance.
- Warned. God told a pagan king ahead of time what He was about to do. The lean cattle were a notice, not a puzzle.
- Baffled. Egypt's finest minds could not read the warning; only God can interpret what comes from God.
- Devoured. Seven lean years would swallow seven full ones and stay as lean as before. The doubled dream marked it settled and near.
- Exposed. When plenty vanishes, people learn that blessing rests on God Himself, not on the good things He gives.
- Urgent. The world is still in its plentiful years. Pharaoh knew he had seven to prepare; we do not know how long ours will last.
And the lean and bad kine ate up the seven first fat kine;
Pharaoh is retelling his two dreams to Joseph. Here the starved, ugly cows swallow the strong, well-fed ones. Why would God send a king such a picture, and what is it meant to teach?
The dreams told Egypt's future in advance — and they came twice for a reason.
Again the dreams were prophetic. God was revealing what He was about to bring upon the land of Egypt. First would come seven years of very great abundance. Then would follow seven years of severe scarcity and famine. Both depended on the waters of the Nile. At the end of the seven years of famine all the fatness of the good years would have disappeared. In the picture-language of the dream the seven lean cattle would be just as they were at the beginning. What is more, the dream came twice to Pharaoh so that he would realise the matter was settled, beyond any hope of reversal, and that God would soon bring it to pass.
Everything in Egypt depended on one river.
In Egypt there is no rain. Without the Nile all Egypt would be dry like the desert. The Nile floods every year and waters the land on both sides. The Egyptians always plant their crops where the flood water has been, and so they get good crops. So the Egyptians did not worship the true God in heaven. They worshipped the River Nile.
Joseph told Pharaoh that God was announcing His own plans. One writer sets that against the way the world's leaders plan today.
First he twice repeats that "God has showed Pharaoh what He is about to do." The wise men of Egypt no doubt had their theories about the future of Egypt. They shaped their policies and made their plans according to their own ideas. The leaders of this world do the same today — political, religious, intellectual, capitalist or labour. Each has his own theory about the future government of the world... all the theories of men leave God out of God's world.
Pharaoh had already put the dream to the best minds in Egypt. They came up with nothing.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... then as now, the wise men of this world are at a complete loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret a message from God.
Why let the good years vanish with nothing to show for them?
Then the famine would be so severe that the good years would be forgotten. It would be as though the bad years had eaten them up, leaving nothing helpful behind. God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
Some writers read the devouring years as a picture of what still lies ahead for the world.
Seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine to devour them up — such is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it hardly believes the future clearly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is certainly not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible needs.
The same pattern fits closer to home, in seasons of rich teaching.
In time of plenty who thinks of famine? But famine sometimes follows plenty. It was so in Egypt... and all the plenty was forgotten when the famine consumed the land. So it is sometimes with the ministry of the word of God. Many honoured servants of the Lord are busy ministering Christ to souls. At such a time, perhaps few consider that scarcity could follow the plenty.
- Plenty — Seven fat years came from God, through the river Egypt worshipped in His place.
- Devoured — The lean cattle ate the fat and stayed lean; at the end of the famine every trace of the good years was gone.
- Revealed — God told Pharaoh in advance what He would do. The world's leaders still plan as if God were not there.
- Unread — Egypt's wisest men had the dream and could do nothing with it. Only God can interpret a message from God.
- Purpose — God strips the plenty away so people learn that blessing rests on Him, not on circumstances. The world's own years of plenty will end the same way.
and they came into their belly, and it could not be known that they had come into their belly; and their look was bad, as at the beginning. And I awoke.
Pharaoh is retelling his dreams to Joseph. This time he adds a detail he left out before: the thin cattle ate the fat ones and still looked just as ugly as at the start. That small detail carries Joseph's whole interpretation. It also raises a question: why would God announce His plans to the king of Egypt?
The first telling of the dream leaves this detail out. It appears only when Pharaoh speaks to Joseph, and it fits what Joseph is about to say.
Pharaoh, in recounting his dreams to Joseph, added one detail left out in the earlier account. Having eaten the seven fat cattle, the seven lean ones were just as bad as they were before. It is easy to see how this feature suited the interpretation which Joseph went on to give.
Joseph takes no credit for himself. Only then does Pharaoh tell the whole dream again:
Joseph replies with a modest and godly disclaimer for himself. But he has faith in God's willingness and goodness in the matter. Then Pharaoh tells it again in even stronger terms than the first time: the two sets of cattle, the two sets of grain, the lean and ugly ones eating up the good, fine-looking ones that came before. Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by as many years of famine, beyond anything ever seen. Both were of God's doing for extraordinary ends, and so was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which no man could have known.
The picture is of eating that leaves no trace.
At the end of the seven years of famine all the fatness of the good years would have disappeared. In the picture-language of the dream, the seven lean cattle would be just as they were at the beginning. What is more, the dream came to Pharaoh twice so that he would realize the matter was settled, beyond any hope of reversal, and that God would shortly bring it to pass.
Joseph says the same when he interprets the dream. The good years would not just end — people would forget them. One writer shows the purpose behind it.
The famine would be so severe that the good years would be forgotten. It would be as though the bad years ate them up, with no helpful result. God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to realize that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
The dream is not a puzzle about the future. It announces what God has already decided.
Not only is "the thing established by God," but "God will shortly bring it to pass." God has a revealed plan. God has established His plan, and what God has planned and established, God will bring to pass. Men dream of bringing in a golden age in their own way and by their own efforts. They try education, civilization, disarmament, leagues and alliances. But all will be in vain.
Writers read the two sets of seven years as a pattern that runs beyond Egypt.
Seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that will devour them up — that is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it barely believes its own plainly predicted future. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will show the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible needs.
Notice who did the storing.
Apparently the men of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to lay up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up grain.
The same pattern can show up in the supply of spiritual food.
In a time of plenty, who thinks of famine? But famine sometimes follows plenty. It was so in Egypt. So it is sometimes with the ministry of the word of God. Some of us can look back at place after place where the word was ministered plentifully, and which has now become almost a famine of the Word.
- Detail — Pharaoh adds a fact he left out of the first telling: the thin cattle ate and stayed thin. That addition is what makes Joseph's interpretation fit.
- Devoured — the famine would eat seven years of surplus and leave the land as it was before, with no helpful result.
- Dependence — God does this to teach that blessing rests on Him, not on circumstances. He arranges every circumstance.
- Determined — God doubled the dream to show He has settled the matter. No human scheme can change it, and He will soon bring it to pass.
- Diligence — Egypt's people stored nothing; Joseph gathered. The years of plenty are running now.
And I saw in my dream, and behold, seven ears came up on one stalk, full and good.
Pharaoh is retelling his dream, this time to a man just brought up out of prison. He describes one stalk with seven ears, full and good, and the commentators ask why the dream came twice and why none of Egypt's experts could explain it.
The king's second account is not word for word the same as the first:
Pharaoh, in recounting his dreams to Joseph, added one detail left out of the earlier account. Having eaten the seven fat cattle, the seven lean ones were just as bad as they were before. It is easy to see how this feature suited the interpretation which Joseph went on to give. The two dreams were but one in their meaning, just as Joseph's two dreams were one in their meaning.
The cattle and the grain carry one message. So why say it twice?
Then Pharaoh recounts it in even stronger terms than at first. He tells of the two sets of cattle and the two sets of grain, the lean and ill-looking devouring the good and healthy ones that came before. Joseph explains that both dreams related to one event, seven years of plenty followed by as many years of famine, beyond anything ever seen. Both were of God's doing for extraordinary ends, as was His making it all known to Pharaoh, beyond the reach of man. The doubling of the dream indicated not only its certainty, but the speed of its fulfilment. God does not deceive, nor is He mocked.
One writer applies the same rule to a message God wrote on a wall for a Babylonian king:
The first word was repeated. Joseph's words to Pharaoh no doubt explain why: "And the doubling of Pharaoh's dream means that the thing is fixed by God, and God will shortly bring it about" (Genesis 41:32).
Pharaoh had already tried the best minds in his kingdom, and he tells Joseph so.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation. God spoke in a vision to Pharaoh. He wrote on the wall in Belshazzar's day. He speaks with "great plainness of speech" in our own day. But now, as in days gone by, the wise men of this world are completely at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to "all the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret" his dreams (v. 8). Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that only God can interpret messages from God.
Pharaoh assumes the young Hebrew has a skill the others lacked. Joseph corrects him before he interprets a word.
Pharaoh, speaking as a natural man, says at once, "I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it." Joseph confesses straight away, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. Joseph is "a young man, a Hebrew, a servant," in a dungeon, yet God is with him. So he can surpass the wisdom of the wise, stand without fear before the king, and say with full confidence, "God will give Pharaoh a favourable answer." He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," however true that would have been; faith goes beyond what God can do and states plainly what God will do.
The full ears promised abundance, the thin ones famine. One writer explains why God sends such a warning at all:
God had chosen to reveal to an Egyptian king what He purposed to do. The well-fed cows and the good ears of grain showed that there would be seven years of abundant produce through all the land of Egypt. The lean cows and the thin ears of grain foretold seven years of famine to follow… God does such things to awaken people to realise that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
One writer compares those years of plenty to our own day:
There were seven years, not of plenty merely, but of "great plenty." And during those years we read, "the earth produced abundantly." It was a time of extraordinary abundance. And there never was a day like the one in which we live. Never before this present time did God send His messengers out into all the world. They proclaim to every sinner a free and full salvation through faith in the name of His own exalted Son.
- Doubled — the same message came as cattle and as grain, and the repeat showed that God had fixed the matter and would bring it soon.
- Hidden — Egypt's whole body of wise men could not read it, because only God can interpret what God sends.
- Emptied — Joseph's "It is not in me" put the answer in God's hands. His advantage over the magicians was not skill but God being with him.
- Given — God told a foreign king what He was about to do, so people would learn that their blessing rests on God, not on circumstances.
- Now — the seven full ears picture a time of extraordinary abundance, like our own day, when God offers every sinner a free and full salvation.
And behold, seven ears, withered, thin, parched with the east wind, sprung up after them;
Pharaoh has told Joseph the first half of his dream, and now the second: ears of grain that came up shrivelled, thin, and scorched by the east wind. What does that withering wind stand for, and why could no one in Egypt explain it?
Pharaoh names the wind that ruined the grain. Scripture gives that wind a settled meaning:
The east wind was distressing and destructive to plant life (Genesis 41:6, 23, 27). It was dangerous to ships at sea (Psalm 48:7; Ezekiel 27:26). It is a symbol of the withering power of God's judgements (Hosea 13:15).
So the blighted ears picture judgement, not just bad weather.
Pharaoh had already dreamed, already woken, already sent for his advisers. Standing before Joseph he tells it all again, and with more heat than the first account:
Then Pharaoh tells it again in even stronger terms than the first time. He describes the two sets of cattle and the two sets of grain. The lean and ugly ones devour the good and healthy ones that came before. Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event. Seven years of plenty would come, followed by seven years of famine beyond anything known. Both were God's doing, for extraordinary ends. So was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which lay outside the reach of man. The doubling of the dream indicated not only its certainty, but the speed of its fulfilment. God does not deceive, nor is He mocked.
God's aim in the warning went beyond Egypt's food supply:
God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt... The famine would be so severe that the good years would be forgotten. It would be as if the bad years had eaten them up, with no benefit left. God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
Pharaoh had already sent for his own experts, and they failed him:
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation. God speaks: in a vision to Pharaoh, by writing on the wall in Belshazzar's day, and with great plainness in our day. But as in days past, so now, the wise men of this world are utterly at a loss in their efforts to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh calls for "all the magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find that "there was none who could interpret them to Pharaoh." Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that only God can interpret what God says.
Pharaoh expects Joseph to have the skill. Joseph's first move is to deny it:
God has destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning." He falls back on the man He had kept in reserve: "a man in whom is the Spirit of God."... Pharaoh, speaking as a natural man, says at once, "I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it." Joseph confesses right away, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt... but God was with him. So he could surpass the wisdom of the wise and stand without fear before the king. He could say with complete confidence, "God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace." He does not say God can give Pharaoh an answer, true as that would be. Faith goes beyond what God can do and states plainly what God will do.
(Where older translations read "an answer of peace," the ESV has "a favorable answer.")
Some writers read the two halves of the dream as a pattern larger than Egypt:
Seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine that will devour them up — that is the prophecy of Pharaoh's dream. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years. It hardly believes its own plainly predicted future. Yet the time of famine is not far off. It will reveal the resources of the One who will then prove to be the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
- Warned. The shrivelled ears stand for the withering power of God's judgements. The famine was announced before a single harvest failed.
- Doubled. Pharaoh dreams twice and retells it in stronger terms. The repetition marks the thing as certain and near.
- Baffled. Egypt's magicians heard the same dream and had nothing to say. Only God can interpret what God says.
- Emptied. Seven years of plenty can vanish so completely that no one remembers them. Blessing rests on God, not on good circumstances.
- Supplied. God falls back on the forgotten prisoner who says "It is not in me," and through him gives the answer that saves a nation.
and the thin ears devoured the seven good ears. And I told it to the scribes; but there was none to make it known to me.
Pharaoh has just finished retelling his dreams to a prisoner he has never met. He ends by admitting that none of Egypt's trained minds could explain them. Why would God send a message the experts could not read? And who was meant to read it?
The cattle and the grain carried one warning, and both dreams came in a single night. The pictures came straight from Egyptian life.
Dreams enter the story again, this time with Pharaoh himself... Pharaoh's dream came twice. Both dreams pointed the same way, and the fact that both came in one night was very impressive. Sheep were not popular in Egypt. Cattle supplied the meat, and grain supplied the bread. The river Nile was the basis of the prosperity of both.
The men Pharaoh consulted were Egypt's magicians and wise men. Scripture treats what they practised as real enough to be dangerous.
Scripture refers many times to the various forms of what is now called occult science. It strongly condemns any Israelite having anything to do with it. This shows that it was a dangerous reality, however much deception might at times have been mixed up with it. We read of it first in Genesis 41:8, when Pharaoh called for all the magicians of Egypt and the wise men to interpret his dream. All their resources failed. Then God's man in the prison was called out to explain the dream, and this proved the occasion of working out God's purposes concerning Joseph.
Their silence was not a gap in their training. Only God can explain what God sends.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation... as in the days that are past, so now, the wise men of this world are completely at a loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none who could interpret" his dreams (v. 8). Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what God communicates.
The experts had run out. The one man who could speak was already in place, and his first words denied any ability of his own.
In this way God has destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning." So He falls back on the man He kept in reserve, "a man in whom is the Spirit of God." But God's man is always of little account in the eyes of the world... Pharaoh, speaking as a natural man, at once says, "I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it." Joseph immediately confesses, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt.
The swallowing is the point. Seven years of harvest would vanish without a trace.
The well fed cows and the good ears of grain meant seven years of rich harvests through all the land of Egypt. The lean cows and the thin ears of grain foretold seven years of famine to follow. Then the famine would be so severe that the good years would be forgotten, as though the bad years had eaten them up with no helpful result (vv. 28-31). God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to realize that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
Some writers read the two sets of seven years as a picture of the world's own story — plenty now, and a famine it hardly believes is coming.
Pharaoh's dream foretells seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that will devour them up. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it hardly believes its plainly predicted future. Still, the time of famine is not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen to be the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
- God speaks. One warning came twice in a single night, in Egypt's own cattle and grain.
- Man stalls. Egypt's magicians and wise men all failed, and that failure opened the way for God's purpose for Joseph.
- Only God explains. Only God can explain what God sends. Pride of intellect hides that simple fact.
- God's man answers. The wise men fall silent, and God turns to the man He kept in reserve — a prisoner who says the ability is not in him.
- The lesson lands. Seven good years vanish without a trace, to teach that blessing rests not on circumstances but on the God who governs them.
And Joseph said to Pharaoh, The dream of Pharaoh is one. What God will do he has made known to Pharaoh.
Joseph comes straight from a dungeon to stand before Pharaoh. His first words about the two dreams are that they carry one message, from one Author.
Before Joseph explains anything, he takes himself out of the credit. He had none of the training Pharaoh's court valued.
Joseph at once admits, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. They may be trained in all the wisdom of the Egyptians. They may hold the highest posts in the king's court. Joseph, by contrast, is "a young man, a Hebrew, a slave," in a dungeon. But God is with him. So he can surpass the wisdom of the wise, stand without fear before the king, and say with full confidence, "God will give Pharaoh an answer of peace." He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," true as that would have been. Faith goes past what God can do, and states plainly what God will do.
Pharaoh had already asked the best minds in his kingdom, and got nothing. The reason was not a shortage of learning.
First God reveals what He is about to do. Even so, man cannot profit by the revelation. God speaks in a vision to Pharaoh, by writing on the wall in Belshazzar's day, and by "great plainness of speech" in our day. But now, as in the days that are past, the wise men of this world are at a total loss when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh calls on the "magicians of Egypt and all the wise men of it," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams. Man's natural pride in his own mind blinds him to a simple fact: only God can interpret what comes from God.
Pharaoh had dreamed twice. Joseph gives both dreams one meaning, and one writer explains God's purpose in sending them.
Joseph interpreted the dream for Pharaoh at once, saying, "The dreams of Pharaoh are one" — that is, the second dream simply confirmed the first. God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt… God does things like this to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
Another writer draws out what the repeat itself showed:
Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by as many years of famine, beyond anything known before. God brought both about for extraordinary ends, and He also made it all known to Pharaoh, which lay outside the reach of man. The doubling of the dream showed not only that it was certain, but how soon it would come. God does not deceive, and He is not mocked.
Joseph tells Pharaoh what God is about to do. Egypt's leaders had their own view of the future, and one writer sets that beside God's.
No doubt the wise men of Egypt had their theories about the future of Egypt. They shaped their policies and made their plans to fit their own ideas. The leaders of this world do the same today… they have their various theories about the future government of the world… all the theories of men leave God out of God's world… Still, God has His own plans for the future government of the world, and He has not left us in the dark about them.
Notice who God chose to speak through. The interpreter is a rejected man, forgotten in a prison.
All through this, the Lord was with him, though he was rejected and completely forgotten, like a dead man no one remembers. It is as a rejected man that he becomes the interpreter… And here he is to interpret the whole history of the world and what would become of it: its blessing and its misery, its time of comfort and its time of trial, and the provision made for it. There is counsel here as well as knowledge — wisdom about God's mind, and not only knowledge of it.
The same thought is put more simply elsewhere: Joseph is a man carrying something not his own.
There is precious spiritual gift in him. He was a vessel in God's house, carrying the mind of Christ, and ministering that mind as an oracle of God; like Daniel again, interpreting dreams, and making known even to kings, though still in his day of humiliation, what was coming upon the earth.
- God speaks first. God showed Pharaoh what He was about to do, before any of it happened.
- Man cannot read it. Egypt's wisest men all failed. Only God can interpret what comes from God.
- God uses the empty man. "It is not in me" is why Joseph could speak; the prisoner outranked the court because God was with him.
- The message is one. Two dreams, one meaning; the doubling marked both the certainty of the thing and how soon it would come.
- The result is trust. God sends plenty and famine so that people rest on Him, not on their circumstances.
The seven fine kine are seven years; and the seven good ears are seven years the dream is one.
Pharaoh has just told a dream that no one in Egypt could explain. A prisoner gives the answer: the cows and the ears are not two riddles but one measure of time. Three small things carry the verse: the number seven, the word "are," and the claim that one dream lies behind two pictures.
Joseph treats the two dreams as one message. One writer explains what each picture stands for:
Joseph interpreted the dream for Pharaoh at once: "The dreams of Pharaoh are one." That is, the second dream simply confirmed the first. God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt. The seven cows meant seven years, and the seven good ears of grain meant seven years. God had chosen to reveal to an Egyptian king what He planned to do.
The cows are not years. They stand for years — a use of the word "is" found right through Scripture:
Scripture often uses "is" to mean "represents." It is so common that we need not dwell on it. For example: "the Rock was Christ"; "The seven good cows are seven years"; "The seed is the word of God"; "It is the LORD's Passover."
Joseph gave Pharaoh the meaning. But he began by denying that he had any power of his own:
The man who would one day hold power that no one before or since has ever held is for the moment stuck in a prison. He is counted among "what is low and despised in the world." Yet God chose him to "shame the strong" and "bring to nothing things that are." … Joseph at once admits, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. … He does not say, "God can give Pharaoh an answer," true as that would have been. His faith goes past what God can do and states what God will do.
Another writer hears the same note in Paul's confession that his competence came from God:
It is a mark of a true servant of God to say, "It is not in me."
Why send the same message twice? The repeat carried its own meaning:
Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by as many years of famine, beyond anything ever seen. Both were God's doing, for extraordinary ends. So was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which lay beyond what man could know. The doubling of the dream showed not only that it was certain, but how soon it would happen. God does not deceive, nor is He mocked.
Writers apply this pattern in two directions. One reads the world's present ease as its years of plenty:
Seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that swallow them up — this is what Pharaoh's dream foretells. The world is still enjoying its years of plenty, and it barely believes the future clearly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible needs.
Another applies it to the preaching of God's word:
In a time of plenty, who thinks of famine? … The same is sometimes true of the ministry of the word of God. When many honoured servants of the Lord are busy ministering Christ to souls, few stop to think that scarcity may follow the plenty.
One writer names the purpose behind dealings like these:
God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
- One dream. The cows and the ears say the same thing twice. The second picture confirms the first; it does not add a second event.
- One meaning. "Are" here means "stands for" — the same everyday use of the word found in "The seed is the word of God" and "the Rock was Christ."
- One source. Joseph had no ability of his own. He told Pharaoh it was not in him, and that God would answer.
- One certainty. God doubled the dream to tell Pharaoh two things: it was certain, and it was near. God does not deceive.
- One warning. Plenty is measured, and it ends — whether the lack ahead is of bread or of God's word. Blessing rests on God, not on circumstances.
And the seven lean and bad kine that came up after them are seven years; and the seven empty ears, parched with the east wind, will be seven years of famine.
Pharaoh dreamed twice, and here Joseph gives both dreams one meaning: seven years of famine. Why would God announce a disaster years before it came, and what does the withering east wind add to the warning?
The lean cows and the empty ears are not two warnings but one. One writer traces how Joseph reads the two dreams as one message, and why God gave it:
Joseph interpreted the dream for Pharaoh at once. He said, "The dream of Pharaoh is one" — that is, the second dream only confirmed the first. God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt. The seven cows meant seven years, and the seven good ears of grain meant seven years. In the same way, the seven ugly cows and the seven parched ears of grain each meant seven years. The well fed cows and the good ears meant seven years of rich harvests through all the land of Egypt. The lean cows and the thin ears foretold seven years of famine to follow. Then, because the famine would be so severe, the good years would be forgotten, as though eaten up by the bad years with no helpful result. God does such things to wake people up. Their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
The east wind that ruined the ears is more than a detail. In Scripture that wind carries a settled meaning:
The east wind was distressing and destructive to plant life (Genesis 41:6, 23, 27). It was dangerous to ships at sea (Psalm 48:7; Ezekiel 27:26). It is a symbol of the withering power of God's judgements (Hosea 13:15).
Famine is one of the judgements God sends on the earth:
Famine is one of God's "four severe judgements." He has brought it on the earth in past times, and He has foretold that He will send it again as a punishment. The most severe famines in Scripture are the two that lasted seven years. One came in the time of Joseph, the other in the days of Elisha (Genesis 41:27-57; 2 Kings 8:1-2).
One writer reads Pharaoh's dream as more than ancient history. He sees the world's own future in these full years swallowed by empty ones:
Pharaoh's dream prophesies seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that will devour them up. Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years, and it has little belief in the future clearly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is not far off. It will display the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible demands. In that hard time of trial Israel will be brought back to Him whom they rejected, and the world will be brought under the throne whose provision of grace He ministers.
The famine put all Egypt into one man's hands. Another writer sees there God's method for governing the world:
This, too, is God's plan for the future government of the world. God will not govern by parliaments or cabinets, or by advisers and ministers. He will govern by "a Man discerning and wise" set over all. And all will be brought under His sway either by the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
The same writer contrasts two ways of bowing:
The Christian delights to bow during the plentiful years of grace. The world will be forced to bow in the years of famine.
The warning has a nearer use. Plenty can end in spiritual things too:
Who thinks of famine in a time of plenty? But famine sometimes follows plenty. It was so in Egypt… So it is sometimes with the ministry of the word of God. There are times when many honoured servants of the Lord are busy ministering Christ to souls. Then few consider that scarcity may follow the plenty.
- One dream. The ugly cows and the blighted ears say one thing twice: seven years of famine. God announced it before a single crop failed.
- One wind. The east wind that scorched the ears pictures the withering power of God's judgements.
- One warning. Famine stands among the severe judgements God sends, and this one ranks with the worst in the Bible.
- One lesson. The famine would swallow the good years until they were forgotten. Blessing rests on God, not on circumstances.
- One man. Plenty and famine together brought everyone under Joseph. So God will bring all under Christ — gladly in the years of grace, or by force in the years of famine.
This is the word which I have spoken to Pharaoh what God is about to do he has let Pharaoh see.
Pharaoh has just told his two dreams to a prisoner brought straight from the dungeon, and Joseph's answer points away from himself to God. So why would God tell an Egyptian king His plans, and why could no one in Egypt read them?
Joseph says the same thing in verse 25 and again here. One writer starts from that repetition.
Having heard Pharaoh's account of his dream, Joseph gives the king a threefold message from God. First he twice repeats that "God has shown Pharaoh what He is about to do" (vv. 25, 28). The wise men of Egypt no doubt had their theories about the future of Egypt. They shaped their policies and made their plans according to their own ideas. The leaders of this world do the same today. But all the theories of men leave God out of God's world. God is welcome to heaven. Man knows nothing about heaven and cares even less. But the earth is the centre of all man's affections, so man insists it must be run according to his own ideal. Still, God has His plans for the future government of the world, and He has not left us in ignorance of them.
Pharaoh had already called in the best minds in Egypt, and it made no difference.
First God reveals what He is about to do; but even so man cannot profit by the revelation. God spoke in a vision to Pharaoh. He wrote on the wall in Belshazzar's day. He speaks with great plainness of speech in our day. But now as in the past, the wise men of this world fail completely when they try to interpret the Word of God. So Pharaoh appeals to the "magicians of Egypt and all its wise men," only to find "there was none to interpret" his dreams (v. 8). Man's natural pride of intellect blinds him to the simple fact that communications from God can only be interpreted by God.
Joseph does not offer a guess about the future. He tells Pharaoh the matter is fixed. The dream came twice, and that repetition is part of the message.
Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine — on a scale never seen before. Both came from God, and He had extraordinary purposes in them. He also made it all known to Pharaoh, and that was beyond the reach of human knowledge. The doubling of the dream showed not only its certainty, but the speed of its fulfilment. God does not deceive, nor is He mocked.
What God shows, He also does — and He does it Himself, not by human effort.
God has a revealed plan. God has established His plan, and what God has planned and established, God will bring to pass. Men dream of bringing in a golden age by their own thoughts and their own efforts — through education, civilization, disarmament, leagues and alliances. It will all be in vain. God has made it clear: only His own direct intervention will bring in His reign of peace. As in Joseph's day, so in our day, "God will bring it to pass."
There is a purpose behind an advance warning like this.
God was showing Pharaoh beforehand what He was going to do in Egypt… God does such things to wake people up. He wants them to realize that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
The revealed plan had a shape. Alongside the years, God showed Pharaoh the kind of person through whom He would work.
In keeping with God's settled plan, Pharaoh is also instructed about the way God will carry out His plans. Seven years of plenty will be followed by seven years of famine, and Pharaoh is told to "look out a man discreet and wise, and set him over the land of Egypt." Two things mark this plan. First, God ordains that only one man shall be over the land. Second, God will so order circumstances that all will be brought under the rule of this man. The circumstances and the man would combine to bring about God's purposed plan.
One writer sees the same pattern in the world today.
Pharaoh's dream foretells seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that swallow them up. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it barely believes the future plainly predicted for it. Yet the time of famine is not far off. It will show the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible needs.
- Shown. The dream carried God's own message. Joseph says twice over that God has shown Pharaoh what He is about to do.
- Sealed. Shown means settled: the doubled dream marked both the certainty of the thing and how soon it would come.
- Sent. What God shows, God brings about Himself — not by human planning, leagues or improvement schemes.
- Sifted. Egypt's magicians could not read God's message: only God can interpret what God has said.
- Steadied. In plenty and in famine alike, blessing does not rest on circumstances. It rests on the God who arranges every circumstance.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout the land of Egypt.
Joseph has just told Pharaoh that his two dreams are one dream, and now he explains them: seven years of abundance are coming to Egypt. The verse raises two questions: why God announces plenty in advance, and what people do with it while they have it.
Joseph does not present the coming years as a clever reading of signs. One commentator sets that beside the way the world's leaders plan their own future.
Joseph gives the king a threefold message from God. First he twice repeats that God has shown Pharaoh what He is about to do. The wise men of Egypt no doubt had their theories about the future of Egypt. They shaped their policies and made their plans to fit their own ideas. It is the same today. The leaders of this world — political, religious, intellectual, capitalist, or labour — have their various theories about the future government of the world... all the theories of men leave God out of God's world.
Behind the seven years stands a plan God has already settled. One commentator follows that plan far past Egypt's grain supply.
God has a revealed plan. God has established His plan, and what God has planned and established, God will bring to pass. Men dream of bringing in a millennium by their own thoughts and their own efforts — through education, civilization, disarmament, leagues and alliances. It will all be in vain.
Joseph does not promise enough; he promises great plenty. One writer holds on to that one word and moves from Egypt's harvest to our own day.
There were seven years, not just of plenty, but of "great plenty." During those years, we read, "the earth brought forth by handfuls." It was a time of extraordinary abundance. And there never was a day like the one in which we live. Never before the present age has God sent His messengers out into all the world. They proclaim to every sinner a free and full salvation through faith in the name of His own exalted Son.
("By handfuls" comes from an older translation of Genesis 41:47. The ESV says the earth "produced abundantly.")
The plenty is counted out: seven years, and then it ends. One commentator notes how blessing itself can leave people careless about what comes next.
Often when people are richly blessed they do not think wisely about what the future may hold. They waste the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years arrive without warning, and they are not ready.
The plenty covered the whole land, yet only one man went through it gathering. One commentator makes that detail the picture of Christ today.
The men of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door, and go on their way with no thought for the future. It seems the men of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to lay up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went through the land and gathered up grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace. He is going through the world gathering His people out of the world. But when the days of grace have run their course, He will deal with the men of the world.
One writer draws a personal lesson from Joseph, and will not let it stay a lesson about grain.
Young man, prepare for the future. That is the lesson I get from Joseph. Have you provided for the future? I do not mean for the things of this life... Most men that one sees are very busy and earnest in their desire to get on in this world: I wish they were as earnest about eternal things. They are so taken up with this life that they neglect eternity completely.
- Announced. Egypt's wise men had their own theories; this plenty comes as God's own message, in a world whose plans "leave God out of God's world."
- Established. God has a settled plan, and what God has planned, He brings to pass — no human scheme can produce it.
- Great. Not plenty but great plenty — one writer sees in it the full salvation God now offers to every sinner.
- Limited. Seven years, and then they end. Plenty tempts people to waste it and to meet the lean years unready.
- Gathered. Only Joseph gathers in the record, and today the exalted Christ reaps His harvest — so the one fitting response is to prepare now, while the plenty lasts.
And there will arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty will be forgotten in the land of Egypt, and the famine will waste away the land.
Joseph has just told Pharaoh that seven years of plenty are coming, and now he turns to the famine that swallows them. Commentators read it as a warning about how fast plenty vanishes, and as a picture of the world today.
Joseph was not offering Pharaoh a possibility. One writer points out that the repeated dream was part of the message. The famine would wipe out everything the good years produced.
God was revealing what He was about to bring on the land of Egypt. First, seven years of very great plenty. Then seven years of severe shortage and famine. Both depended on the waters of the Nile. At the end of the seven years of famine, all the richness of the good years would be gone… What is more, the dream came to Pharaoh twice, so that he would see that the matter was settled and nothing could reverse it, and that God would bring it to pass soon.
The verse says the plenty will be forgotten. One writer gives the reason: good years make people careless, and whole nations do the same.
The abundance of the first seven years must have been great. Often when people are greatly blessed they do not consider wisely what the future may hold. They waste the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years arrive without warning, and they are not ready. In the same way, when a nation has lived in luxury, a recession is likely to strike, and bitter complaining fills the air. Through such things God speaks loudly to men.
Joseph did not stop at announcing the famine. He also told Pharaoh what to do about it.
Joseph's counsel is very simple. During the years of plenty, store up for the future. Prepare for the future — that is the point.
One writer reads the two sets of seven years as a picture of the world now, and of the One the coming famine will reveal.
Pharaoh's dream foretells seven years of plenty, and then seven years of famine that devour them up. Even now the world is enjoying its own years of plenty, and it hardly believes the future plainly foretold for it. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will display the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible needs.
One writer applies the same pattern to the teaching of God's word. The famine he describes falls on places that once had plenty.
In a time of plenty, who thinks of famine? But famine sometimes follows plenty. It was so in Egypt. There were first seven years of plenty, and then seven years of famine; and all the plenty was forgotten when the famine consumed the land. So it is sometimes with the ministry of the word of God… Some of us can look back and see place after place where the word was once given in plenty. Those places have now become little more than a desolation, almost a famine of the Word. The children of God there are barely existing, instead of living in holy liberty, devoted to the Lord.
The famine left the people with nowhere else to turn, so they cried to Pharaoh. One writer finds the gospel in his reply.
The famine that followed was unusually severe, and it spread over the whole inhabited earth. When the people cried to Pharaoh for relief, his reply was simple: "Go to Joseph. What he says to you, do." This at once reminds us of the words the mother of our Lord spoke at His first miracle, "Do whatever he tells you" (John 2:5). Does a conscience-stricken sinner cry out today for salvation? The answer in three words is, "Go to Jesus." All God's grace and bounty flows through Him.
- Announced. The famine was not a risk but a settled matter; the repeated dream told Pharaoh it would come soon.
- Forgotten. Abundance has a short memory. Squander the plenty, and nothing is left when the lean years arrive without warning.
- Prepare. Joseph's counsel was simple: store up during the good years. The warning called for action while there was still time.
- Now. The world is living in its own years of plenty and hardly believes the future foretold for it. The famine to come will reveal the only One who can meet it.
- Go. When the famine consumed everything else, one answer was left: go to Joseph. Today the answer is: go to Jesus, for all God's grace and bounty flows through Him.
And the plenty will not be known afterwards in the land by reason of that famine; for it will be very grievous.
Joseph has just told Pharaoh what the two dreams mean: seven years of abundance, then seven years of hunger. This verse adds the sharpest detail: the famine will swallow every trace of the good years. So what does a person do with plenty while he still has it?
Seven years of full harvests will not soften the seven that follow. They will vanish as if they never happened. One writer explains why God arranges history this way.
The famine would be so severe that the good years would be forgotten. It would be as if the bad years ate them up and left no benefit behind (vv. 28-31). God does things like this to wake people up. He wants them to see that their blessing does not depend on circumstances, but on the God who brings about every circumstance.
Both halves of the dream point to one event. And the fact that the dream came twice carries its own message.
Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by the same number of famine, like nothing ever known before. Both were God's doing, for extraordinary ends. So was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which lay beyond the reach of human knowledge. The doubling of the dream showed not only that it was certain, but that it would come quickly. God does not deceive, and He is not mocked.
The famine will wipe out all memory of abundance. So a person has to use the years of plenty with the famine in view.
Joseph's advice is very simple. During the years of plenty, store up for the future. Prepare for the future — that is the point.
The same warning reaches whole nations, not only people:
Often when people are richly blessed, they do not think wisely about what the future may hold. They waste the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years arrive without warning, and they are not ready. It is the same when a nation has lived in luxury. A recession is likely to strike, and the whole air fills with bitter complaining. Through such things God speaks loudly to people.
Commentators also read the two periods as a picture of the present time. One of them points to who does the gathering during the years of plenty.
In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plentiful years," when the grace of God is giving out blessings by "handfuls." The people of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door, and go on their way with no thought for the future. It seems the men of Egypt made no use of the years of plenty to store up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered any food. It was Joseph who went through the land and gathered the grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace.
Another writer draws meaning from the number seven itself:
Seven is the number of spiritual perfection, whether of good or of evil. In these two sets of seven years we see two complete periods of time: the present, "the year of the Lord's favor," and what comes after it, "the day of vengeance of our God."
Plenty followed by famine happens with the teaching of God's word too.
In a time of plenty, who thinks of famine? But famine sometimes follows plenty. That is what happened in Egypt. First came seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine. All the plenty was forgotten when the famine ate up the land. It is sometimes the same with the ministry of God's word... some of us can look back and see place after place where this was so, and which is now little more than a wasteland, with almost a famine of the Word.
The phrase that closes the verse is the one to sit with. It was spoken as a plain forecast, and it is turned into a direct appeal:
"It shall be very grievous," said Joseph, of the famine that was coming on the land. And Christ has told us that the tribulation soon to come on this unbelieving world will be the most terrible disaster, or series of disasters, that has ever been. Would you escape it? Run to Christ. He will receive you; He will save you.
- Forgotten — The famine will be so severe that people will forget seven years of abundance, as if they never existed.
- God's doing — The dream was not chance. God announced His plan in advance, and He does not deceive.
- Awakening — God wipes out the plenty to teach that blessing rests on Him, not on good circumstances.
- Prepare — Store the plenty, do not waste it. People and nations alike meet the lean years unready.
- Now — Commentators see today as the world's years of plenty, with Christ gathering His harvest. The warning that the famine will be "very severe" is an invitation to come to Him while the storehouse is open.
And as regards the double repetition of the dream to Pharaoh, it is that the thing is established by God, and God will hasten to do it.
Joseph has just told Pharaoh what the two dreams mean, and now he explains why there were two of them at all. The repetition is not decoration: it tells Pharaoh that God has settled the matter and will act soon.
Pharaoh dreamed twice, and both dreams carried one message. Commentators read the repeat as God's way of shutting the door on any change.
Once more the dreams were prophetic. God was revealing what He was about to bring upon the land of Egypt... Moreover, the dream was doubled to Pharaoh so that he might realise that the thing was settled, beyond any hope of being revoked, and God would shortly bring it to pass.
William Kelly explains what the two dreams had in common, and what the doubling added.
Joseph explains that both dreams related to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine beyond anything known before. Both were God's doing for extraordinary ends, and so was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which was beyond the reach of man. The doubling of the dream indicated not only its certainty, but the speed of its accomplishment. God does not deceive, nor is He mocked.
Joseph tells the most powerful man in Egypt that his country's future is already fixed — and not by him. The commentators here use an older translation: where the ESV says "fixed by God," they say "established by God." Hamilton Smith sets that word against the whole history of human planning.
Not only has God a plan for the government of Egypt, but "the thing is established by God" (v. 32). People can produce a bewildering run of theories and plans, but all of them carry the fatal mark of complete instability. One generation pushes its theories and plans with immense energy. The next generation throws them all aside. But God alone can declare "the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done." He alone can say, "My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all My purpose" (Isa. 46:10).
The verse does not stop at certainty; it adds timing. The same writer takes that second half as God's answer to every scheme for fixing the world by human effort.
Not only is "the thing established by God," but "God will shortly bring it to pass" (v. 32). God has a revealed plan. God has established His plan, and what God has planned and established, God will bring to pass. Men dream of bringing in a golden age shaped by their own thoughts and built by their own efforts — through education, civilisation, disarmament, leagues and alliances. It will all be in vain. God has made it perfectly clear that His golden age will only come by His own direct intervention. Has He not said through the prophet, "I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass; I have purposed, and I will do it" (Isa. 46:11)?
Joseph's explanation became a key that later readers used elsewhere. A hand once wrote on the wall of Babylon's palace. The first word appeared twice, and Daniel gave the sense God meant, not just a translation.
The words themselves mean "numbered," "weighed," and "divided." But no human cleverness could have found their divine meaning, and it is this which Daniel explains. The first word was repeated. The reason for this is no doubt found in Joseph's words to Pharaoh: "the doubling of Pharaoh's dream means that the thing is fixed by God, and God will shortly bring it about" (Genesis 41:32).
Kelly applies the same principle to a miracle Jesus worked twice.
The miracle worked twice signifies, if one may apply Joseph's interpretation (Gen. 41:32), that the thing is established by God, whatever man's unbelief may be.
Pharaoh had seven years of warning. One writer draws the lesson for anyone reading now.
God has given us, not a dream, but the Bible. In it, He tells of coming judgment. Pharaoh knew he had seven years to get ready, but we do not know how long we have to get ready, and then we shall never have another chance. "The prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it" (Prov. 22:3). Let us be wise like Pharaoh! "Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Cor. 6:2).
- Doubled — The second dream was not a second message. Repetition was God's way of stamping the first as fixed.
- Established — What God settles, no one can undo. The next generation throws out man's best plans; God's counsel stands.
- Shortly — Certainty comes with timing. God does not merely announce; He brings it to pass, and He does it Himself.
- Everywhere — The same rule shows up again: the repeated word on Babylon's wall, and the miracle worked twice. What God repeats, He has fixed — whatever man's unbelief.
- Now — Pharaoh had seven years of warning and used them. We have the Bible instead of a dream, and no stated deadline — so the time to get ready is now.
And now let Pharaoh look himself out a man discreet and wise, and set him over the land of Egypt.
Joseph has just explained Pharaoh's dream of seven fat and seven lean cattle. Now, unasked, a man who left a prison cell that morning tells the most powerful king on earth what to do about it.
Joseph did not stop at explaining the dream. Speaking up took courage, and silence would have left Egypt careless:
A man just out of the shame and obscurity of a prison would normally hold back from advising a king and his courtiers on affairs of state — and on the most urgent and important matters. Joseph rose above all such scruples. Confidence in the revealed mind of God took away his fear of being brushed aside. It also drew out his heart in goodwill to the king and his people. Otherwise they might soon forget the dream and its meaning as a passing wonder. They would fall into the usual carelessness of unbelief, wasting the coming plenty and paying no attention to the scarcity to follow.
God had announced what He was about to do. Joseph's answer to that announcement was not a system but a person:
Joseph not only interpreted the dreams. He also told Pharaoh what should be done, since these things were coming. What was needed was the man of wisdom entrusted with carrying them out. Joseph was speaking on God's behalf. He showed that on the human side, faced with these acts of God, all that was needed was A MAN.
God's part in this goes further than choosing the man:
Two things mark this plan. First, God ordains that only one man shall be over the land. Second, God will so order circumstances that all come under the sway of this man. Joseph was to be set over all. The seven years of plenty, followed by the seven years of famine, would bring everyone under Joseph. The circumstances and the man would combine to bring about God's purposed plan.
Joseph describes a man he does not name, and the description fits the man speaking:
The man who could explain the dream turned out to be the discreet man who would govern Egypt through the famine. Here we have at once a picture of our Lord Jesus. He is the One raised from the dead, so that He might take His place at the head of the universe, and be even now over the house of God.
Pharaoh's conclusion moved from the dream to the man:
Pharaoh could see that the Spirit of God was in Joseph. God had revealed the meaning of the dream to him, so there was no one so discerning and wise as he. 1 Corinthians 2:15 tells us, "The spiritual person judges all things" — that is, he judges in the sense of discerning. He not only discerns spiritual things. He also discerns everyday matters more rightly than any unbeliever does. This is because God is the Creator of material things just as much as of spiritual ones.
The plan for Egypt sketches something far larger:
This, too, is God's plan for the future government of the world. Not by parliaments or cabinets, not by counsellors and ministers, will God govern, but by a Man "discerning and wise" set over all. And all will be brought under His sway either by the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine. Many have already come under the sway of Christ by confessing Him as Lord, to His glory and their blessing. But the world at large has neglected God's grace and rejected the claims of Christ. It will be brought to bow in the day of judgment that follows the years of grace.
The good years are the time to act, and the principle reaches past Egypt:
The point was this: the future was to be provided for. There is a great principle there. Whatever you do not have as regards this life, make sure for eternity. Look ahead. The future is there.
Abundance itself is what makes people careless:
Often when people are greatly blessed they do not consider wisely what the future may hold. They squander the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years come unexpectedly, and they are not prepared.
- One man. God's answer to a coming crisis was not machinery but a person. Everything in the plan hangs on finding him.
- One qualification. God gives the man discernment and wisdom. That wisdom handles grain as well as it handles dreams.
- One reach. Only one man rules. The years of plenty or the years of famine bring everyone under him.
- One greater. The man who described the office filled it. He pictures Christ, raised from the dead and set at the head of all things.
- One warning. Store during the plenty. Famine is coming, and abundance is the very thing that makes people forget it.
Let Pharaoh do [this] let him appoint overseers over the land, and take the fifth part of the land of Egypt during the seven years of plenty,
Joseph has just told Pharaoh what the dreams mean. Now he goes further and proposes a plan: overseers across the land, and a fifth of each harvest stored during the good years.
Joseph was not asked for advice. One writer explains why he gave it anyway, and what would have happened had he stayed silent.
Joseph was not content only to interpret the dreams of the king... He saw that the case demanded the most energetic and careful measures. The light given from above had to be put to use: a long period of over-abundant plenty, then an equally long, certain and extreme scarcity to follow. So he rose above all hesitation. A man just out of the obscurity and shame of a prison would not normally advise a king and his court on affairs of state... Confidence in the revealed mind of God removed his fear that they would brush him aside. It also drew out his heart in goodwill to the king and his people. Otherwise they might soon forget the dream and its meaning as a passing sensation. Then they would fall into the usual carelessness of unbelief, wasting the coming plenty and ignoring the scarcity to follow.
Notice what Joseph puts first: not a system, but one man to lead it.
Joseph not only interpreted the dreams. He also told Pharaoh what should be done, since these things were coming. What was needed was the man of wisdom who could be trusted to carry them out. In fact, Joseph was speaking on God's behalf. He showed that on the human side, faced with these acts of God, only one thing was needed: A MAN.
The overseers of this verse work under that one man. Another writer sees God's own design behind the whole plan.
Two things mark this plan. First, God ordains that only one man shall be over the land; second, God will so order circumstances that all will be brought under the rule of this man. Joseph was to be set over all, and all would be brought under Joseph by the seven years of plenty followed by the seven years of famine. The circumstances and the man would combine to bring about God's purposed plan.
Only one part in five went into store. One writer draws out what that says about the size of the harvests, and about how people treat plenty.
He must appoint a wise, dependable man to manage the great work of gathering produce into storehouses throughout the land of Egypt. This would need many helpers. During the seven years of plenty, they would need only one-fifth of the produce of the land to be kept for the future (vv. 33-36). The abundance of the first seven years must have been great. Often when people are greatly blessed they do not consider wisely what the future may hold. They squander the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years arrive without warning, and they are not ready.
Storing a fifth while the barns overflow can look like fear of the future. One writer treats it instead as respect for what God has given.
The Lord would not have us lose His gifts through waste or neglect, just because we have more than enough for the moment. God gave seven years of plenty in Egypt. The spirit of divine wisdom in Joseph devised effective measures to gather up the surplus and store it for the days of famine. Nothing was to be lost!... The lesson applies widely. To waste His gifts is to despise them, and to lose them. Economy is not contrary to true generosity but consistent with it.
One writer reads the years of plenty as a picture of the present day, and asks who is doing the gathering.
During the years of plenty Joseph uses his place of exaltation to reap a great harvest for Egypt... In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plenteous years." The grace of God is giving out blessings by "handfuls." The men of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door, and go their way with no thought for the future. It seems the men of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to store for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up corn. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace.
- One man. God announced what was coming. On the human side, one thing was needed: a wise man Pharaoh could trust, with overseers serving under him.
- One plan. God arranged both the man and the circumstances, so that everyone in the land came under Joseph's rule.
- One fifth. Egypt stored only a fifth — a small share, which hints at how vast the good years were, and how easily people waste blessing.
- One habit. Storing the surplus was wisdom, not meanness. God wants none of His gifts wasted, and careful economy fits well with real generosity.
- One warning. The plenty is running now. The Egyptians gathered nothing for themselves, and people still pass through years of grace with no thought for what follows.
and let them gather all the food of these coming good years, and lay up corn under the hand of Pharaoh, for food in the cities, and keep [it].
Joseph has just told Pharaoh what his dreams mean, and now he adds a plan for the seven good years. Why would a prisoner dare to advise a king, and why should years of plenty need guarding at all?
Pharaoh called Joseph in to interpret a dream, not to advise on running the country. One writer explains why he spoke anyway.
Normally a man just out of the obscurity and shame of prison would hold back from advising a king and his court on urgent affairs of state. Joseph rose above all such hesitation. He was sure that God had made His mind known, so he had no fear of being brushed aside. That same confidence drew out his heart in goodwill to the king and his people, and to the others so closely concerned. Without his advice they might soon forget the dream and its meaning, treating it as a wonder that fades in a few days. They would sink into the usual carelessness of unbelief, wasting the plenty that was coming and ignoring the shortage that would follow.
The verse puts the gathering in the good years, not the hungry ones. That lesson reaches past Egypt to any household or nation enjoying good times.
Often when people are greatly blessed they do not think wisely about what the future may hold. They waste the large amount the Lord has given them. Then the lean years come without warning, and they are not ready. In the same way, when a nation has lived in luxury, a recession is likely to strike, and the whole atmosphere fills with bitter complaining. Through such things God speaks loudly to people.
Another writer takes the same counsel and presses it further than food supplies:
The point was this: they had to provide for the future. There is a great principle there. Whatever you lack in this life, make sure of eternity. Look ahead. The future is there.
The grain does not just pile up. It goes into store "under the authority of Pharaoh." One writer asks where Egypt's real security lay during the famine. His answer leads on to where God's riches are kept today.
All Egypt was in need during those seven years of famine. Where were Pharaoh's riches, his wealth, so that he could meet all that need and still keep his throne, his majesty and his glory? In Joseph — not in the storehouses of grain, but in Joseph, with all his wisdom and ability, in Zaphnath-paaneah. All Pharaoh's riches lay in the wisdom and the great administrative ability of that young man Joseph. Now, where are all God's riches today? Not in Israel, not in the nations, not in the church, but in Christ Jesus.
"Zaphnath-paaneah" is the name Pharaoh gave Joseph in Egypt.
The verse tells others to do the gathering. One writer notes who did it in the end, and sees in that a picture of Christ at work today.
In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plentiful years," when the grace of God is giving blessings by "handfuls." The people of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door, and go on with no thought for the future. We do not read that the men of Egypt gathered any food. It was Joseph who went through the land and gathered the grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace. He is going through the world, gathering His people out of it.
The verse ends by telling them to keep the food. But food kept in the cities was never meant to stay locked away. One writer sees here both a picture of Christ and the one place the picture breaks down.
Joseph opened all the storehouses of Egypt (v. 56). In the same way the Lord Jesus has opened the storehouses of heaven through His great sacrifice at Calvary, to bless those who have found themselves reduced to spiritual poverty. One great contrast, however, is that the Lord Jesus gives freely, "without money and without price."
- Word — Joseph spoke up because he was sure the meaning came from God. Without that certainty the warning would have faded, and the plenty would have gone to waste.
- Gather — the storing happens in the good years. Few people look past plenty to the lean years coming, so the counsel is to look ahead and make sure of eternity.
- Keep — the grain went into store under Pharaoh's authority. Egypt's real wealth in the famine lay not in the barns but in Joseph, the man who managed them.
- Open — the store was not meant to stay shut. Joseph opened Egypt's storehouses, just as Christ has opened the storehouses of heaven to those reduced to spiritual poverty.
- Free — one great contrast remains — the Lord Jesus gives without money and without price.
And let the food be as store for the land for the seven years of famine, which will be in the land of Egypt, that the land perish not through the famine.
Joseph closes his advice to Pharaoh with the reason for the whole plan: Egypt must not starve. A verse about grain storage raises the largest questions — who gives such wisdom, who holds the reserve, and who lives through the famine.
Most people treat abundance as an invitation to spend. Joseph treated it as a chance to prepare.
The details that follow show Joseph's excellent administration. For most people, overflowing plenty leads to reckless spending and waste. But he knew Whom he had believed. He entered wisely into the duty that fell on him more than on anyone else in Egypt, and he made provision for the years of extreme want. So everyone living on that soil was to benefit enormously, from the ruler down to every subject — and so would people far beyond Egypt. The overflowing plenty set the first seal on the prophecy God had given and interpreted; the famine set the second.
Pharaoh saw more than a good reading of the dream. Joseph also handed him a plan.
Pharaoh recognised the wisdom of God not only in the interpretation but also in the counsel that Joseph gave. And who was wiser than Joseph to take Egypt's critical case in hand? He could manage its resources during the seven years of plenty, and hand out the stores during the seven years of famine that would surely follow.
The verse looks no further than Egypt. Joseph's new name shows how much further the reserve reached.
Little did aged Jacob dream how Egypt had become the life-centre for the countries around it. Little did he think that the son he mourned as dead had been raised by the hand of God to chief power in Egypt. Nor did he know that by his wisdom Joseph was the sustainer of life, not only of Egypt, but of the world around it. His name, Zaphnath-paaneah, means The food of life, or, of the living.
The account is careful about who does the work. It never credits the saved grain to the people who would later eat it.
During the years of plenty Joseph uses his place of exaltation to reap a great harvest for Egypt. He deals with the harvest of Egypt during the years of plenty; he will deal with the men of Egypt during the years of famine. Apparently the men of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to lay up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up the grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace. He is going through the world gathering His people out of the world. But when the days of grace have run their course He will deal with the men of the world.
The verse puts a whole nation's survival in one man's hands. Commentators find in that a pattern for how God will govern.
This, too, is God's plan for the future government of the world. Not by parliaments, or cabinets, not by counsellors and ministers, will God govern, but by "a Man discreet and wise" set over all. And all will be brought under His sway either by the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
Commentators apply the same two seasons to the world's own future.
Even now the world is enjoying its plenteous years, and it hardly believes in its plainly predicted future. Yet the time of famine is surely not far off. It will reveal the resources of the One who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible needs.
Joseph's counsel was policy for a nation. One writer turns it on the reader.
Joseph was wise. He said in effect to Pharaoh, Make provision for the future. Now I do not want you to be thinking of the things of this world. I want you to be ready for eternity. I want you to be ready for that moment of unequalled importance in your history, when you have to pass out of this world.
- Reserve. The seven full years were never about the harvest itself. They were about the store kept back from it. Plenty exists to answer a famine that has not arrived.
- Wisdom. Pharaoh saw God's wisdom in the plan, not just in the reading of the dream. No one else could both save the surplus and share it out later.
- Gatherer. Egypt's people laid up nothing; Joseph gathered. The man they never chose built the store that saved them.
- Reach. The stated aim was Egypt's survival. Yet Joseph's name — "the food of life" — marks him as the sustainer of the world around Egypt too.
- Urgency. Commentators read the plenteous years as today's day of grace, and the famine as what follows. The one question left is personal: have you made provision before it comes?
And the word was good in the eyes of Pharaoh, and in the eyes of all his bondmen.
A prisoner has just told the most powerful ruler on earth what his dreams mean and what he should do about them. The whole court agrees with him. God's wisdom came through a forgotten prisoner, and it won over a whole royal court.
Joseph offered no proof beyond the plan itself. Its quality convinced the king, and even courtiers who might have envied him.
His interpretation carried its own light and evidence along with it; and Pharaoh recognised the wisdom of God, not only in this, but also in the counsel that Joseph gave. And who was wiser than Joseph to take Egypt's critical case in hand? He would manage its resources during the seven years of plenty. He would hand out the stores during the seven years of famine that would surely follow. So the king felt at once, and his servants too, despite the usual jealousy of a court.
The advice that pleased Pharaoh did not call for a new policy or a larger bureaucracy. It called for a person.
Joseph not only interpreted the dreams. He also told Pharaoh what should be done, since these things were coming. What was needed was the man of wisdom, the one to trust with carrying it out. Joseph was speaking on God's behalf. He showed that, on the human side, these acts of God called for one thing only: A MAN.
Egypt's own experts had already failed. The man whose words now satisfied the king had just come out of prison.
God has destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning." Now He falls back on the man He kept in reserve, "a man in whom the Spirit of God is." But God's man is always of little account in the eyes of the world. This man is destined to wield a power that no human being, before or since, has ever held. Yet for the moment he is wasting away in a prison, counted among what is "low and despised in the world."
The plan Pharaoh approved dealt with grain and storage, not with religion. One writer links this to how a spiritual person sees things.
1 Corinthians 2:15 tells us, "The spiritual person judges all things" — that is, he judges in the sense of discerning. He discerns not only spiritual things but everyday matters too, and he judges them more rightly than any unbeliever does. That is because God is the Creator of material things just as much as of spiritual things.
Joseph described the kind of man the work needed, but he never put himself forward.
So, without any effort of his own, Joseph was lifted from undeserved depths of suffering and disgrace. He became prime minister of the greatest kingdom then on earth. Who could deny that it was God's doing in His providence, though not without remarkable means in His Spirit's power working in His servant?
Pharaoh accepted a plan that set one man over everything. The whole land would come under him through plenty and then famine. Writers see here a sketch of something far larger.
This, too, is God's plan for the future government of the world. God will not govern by parliaments or cabinets, or by advisers and ministers. He will govern by "a Man discerning and wise" set over all. And He will bring everyone under His rule, either in the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
This rise points past Egypt, to someone greater.
And how plain this is as a picture of one greater than Joseph! He suffered first from His own people, who did not receive Him. Later He suffered death on a cross from Gentiles who did not know Him. Yet through it all He was the vessel of divine wisdom, far beyond Joseph or anyone else ever born.
- The plan — Pharaoh approved more than a reading of dreams. He approved a course of action, and its wisdom convinced him at once.
- The man — The plan needed one person to carry it out. God had that man ready in a prison, counted as nothing by the world.
- The gift — Pharaoh recognised the wisdom of God in Joseph. That discernment showed itself in grain and government, not only in religion.
- The lift — Joseph never campaigned for the post. His rise from disgrace to prime minister was God's providence, working through His servant.
- The reach — God will govern the world through one discerning and wise Man set over all. Everyone comes under Him, in years of plenty or years of famine.
And Pharaoh said to his bondmen, Shall we find [one] as this, a man in whom the Spirit of God is?
Pharaoh had just heard a prisoner explain what every expert in Egypt could not. His question to his court raises the real issue: what makes one man able to handle what defeats everyone else?
Pharaoh had already asked Egypt's best minds, and they had nothing to say.
God had destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and brought "the discernment of the discerning" to nothing. So He turns to the man He had kept in reserve, "a man in whom the Spirit of God is." But God's man always counts for little in the eyes of the world. This man was destined to hold power that no human being, before or since, has ever held. For the moment he lies forgotten in a prison, counted among "what is low and despised in the world."
So why could a prisoner do what the court could not?
The ability was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt. They may be learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and they may hold the very highest positions in the king's court. Joseph, on the other hand, is a young Hebrew servant in a dungeon. But God was with him, so he could surpass the wisdom of the wise and stand without fear in the presence of the king.
Joseph's advice went further than the meaning of the dreams. It narrowed the whole crisis down to one need.
Joseph did not only interpret the dreams. He also told Pharaoh what to do, because these things were about to happen. What was needed was a wise man who could be trusted to carry the plan out. Joseph was really speaking on God's behalf. He showed that on the human side, in the face of these acts of God, all that was needed was A MAN.
Pharaoh was used to sizing up men. What he saw in Joseph went past anything he could explain.
As a ruler of men, Pharaoh had no doubt gained some discernment, and he saw at once that Joseph was the man for this emergency. It really was the Spirit of God speaking and acting through Joseph. Pharaoh worshipped idols, so he only thought of "the spirit of the gods." Even so, he knew at once that this was more than human wisdom and more than human power to govern.
Genesis says little about the Spirit of God, and this verse is where the book last mentions Him.
In the book of Genesis we read nothing more about the working of God's Spirit. The one exception is the question Pharaoh put to his servants. He was looking for a discerning and wise man to be a saviour in a day of coming famine: "Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?"
Joseph's insight did not stop at dreams. It reached into harvests, storage and famine relief.
It was clear to Pharaoh that the Spirit of God was in Joseph. God had revealed the meaning of the dream to him, so no one was as discerning and wise as he was. 1 Corinthians 2:15 tells us, "The spiritual person judges all things." Here "judges" means discerns. He discerns spiritual things, and he also judges earthly matters rightly, better than any unbeliever, because God is the Creator of material things as well as spiritual ones.
That gap has not closed with time.
Having the Spirit of God is still what makes the vast difference between the children of God and the wise men of the world. Many have great minds, filled with all the learning this world can give. Some hold high rank in the religious world. But unless they are born again they are only natural men, without the Spirit. They cannot even see the things that belong to the kingdom of God.
Commentators see this scene pointing forward to Christ.
No one could compare to Joseph. No one like him could be found. Pharaoh gave him a new name, Zaphnath-paaneah. In Egyptian it means "Saviour of the world," and in Hebrew it means "Revealer of secrets." Our Joseph, our Saviour of the world, our Revealer of secrets, is the Lord of glory, the Lord Jesus Christ. Just as the Spirit of God was in Joseph, the Holy Spirit came upon the Lord Jesus at His baptism for public service.
- Crisis — Pharaoh asked Egypt's experts first, and they failed. God's man was still forgotten in a prison.
- Man — Joseph's counsel reduced the whole national emergency to one need: a man God could use.
- Spirit — Pharaoh worshipped idols and named the wrong source, but he could not miss the power. Genesis names God's Spirit in a man only here.
- Wisdom — the Spirit gave Joseph sound judgment in grain, storage and government, not only in dreams. That difference between the spiritual and the natural man still stands.
- Glory — the man no one matched, renamed "Saviour of the world," points to Christ. The Spirit came on Him for public service.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, Since God has made all this known to thee, there is none [so] discreet and wise as thou.
Pharaoh had just heard a prisoner explain the dreams that no wise man in Egypt could read. Now he promotes that prisoner, and the reason he gives is that God has shown him all this.
Pharaoh calls Joseph the wisest man in Egypt. Joseph had already said the opposite about himself:
God has destroyed "the wisdom of the wise" and thwarted "the discernment of the discerning." Now He falls back on the man He had kept in reserve, "a man in whom the Spirit of God is." But God's man is always of little account in the eyes of the world. At that moment the man destined to hold a power no one before or since has ever held is shut up in a prison. He is counted among "what is low and despised in the world." … Joseph at once confesses, "It is not in me." It was no more in Joseph than in the wise men of Egypt.
Another writer hears the same note in Paul:
He denied having any power or wisdom of his own. He said instead that God would give Pharaoh a favourable answer. It is a mark of a true servant of God to say, "It is not in me." We see the same spirit in Paul: "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God" (2 Cor. 3:5).
The verse puts God's name in the mouth of a king who worshipped idols. One writer weighs what Pharaoh saw and what he missed:
As a ruler of men, Pharaoh had no doubt gained a measure of discernment. He saw at once that Joseph was the man for this emergency. It was indeed the Spirit of God who was speaking and acting through Joseph. But Pharaoh worshipped idols, so he only thought of "the spirit of the gods." Still, he recognised at once that this was more than human wisdom and power to govern.
Pharaoh's reason is that God has shown Joseph all this. One writer draws a wider rule from it:
It was clear to Pharaoh that the Spirit of God was in Joseph. God had shown Joseph the meaning of the dream, so there was no one so discerning and wise as he. 1 Corinthians 2:15 tells us, "The spiritual person judges all things" — that is, he judges in the sense of discerning. He discerns spiritual things. He also judges everyday matters better than any unbeliever does, because God is the Creator of material things just as much as spiritual ones.
One writer notes how years of injustice turned out to be the road to power:
The nations could never have guessed it. The punishment laid on him, the guiltless one, was unjust — yet it was the necessary link in God's wonderful chain that put the rule of the world-kingdom in his hand! He had endured prison for years, under the worst of accusations. Now he was about to pass in one step to the highest dignity and the largest power. "Only as regards the throne," as the king said, "will I be greater than you."
One writer draws the lesson closer to home. Joseph refused sin and went to prison for it. Now he is set over Egypt: "temptation resisted always leads to triumph" (W. T. P. Wolston).
Joseph had told Pharaoh to look for "a discerning and wise man." Pharaoh answers that Joseph is that man. One writer sees here a pattern of how God will govern:
This too is God's plan for the future government of the world. God will not govern by parliaments or cabinets, or by advisers and ministers. He will govern by "a discerning and wise Man" set over all. And all will be brought under His rule either in the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
Another writer asks why Joseph got the place:
Joseph received his high place in Egypt only on the ground of his personal worth and the real service he had done for the country and kingdom of Egypt. And we see from Philippians 2 that God has exalted Jesus (as a man) only because of His personal worthiness and His obedience to death.
- Given, not owned. Joseph said, "It is not in me." The wisdom Pharaoh praises came from God, and saying so marks a true servant.
- Reserved, not discarded. God set aside the wisdom of Egypt's experts. He turned to the man He had kept in reserve — despised and in prison.
- Wise in real things. Spirit-given discernment covers more than spiritual matters. It reads everyday matters rightly too, because God made the material world.
- Suffering was the road. The unjust prison was the necessary link in God's chain. In one step Joseph moved from the dungeon to a place second only to the throne.
- A pattern of Christ. God's way of governing is one Man, discerning and wise, set over all. Philippians 2 shows Him exalted on the ground of His own worthiness and obedience.
Thou shalt be over my house, and according to thy commandment shall all my people regulate themselves; only concerning the throne will I be greater than thou.
Pharaoh has just heard a prisoner explain his dreams, and now he hands him everything but the throne. Two questions follow: what did Joseph actually receive, and why do so many writers read this promotion as a picture of Christ?
Joseph did not climb toward this. He went from the lowest place in Egypt to the highest in one move.
His brothers had no idea what they were doing. Their envious hatred was only the means of bringing about his exaltation — the exaltation that would make them bow to him and keep them alive. The Gentiles could not see it either. He was guiltless, and the punishment inflicted on him was unjust. Yet that punishment was the necessary link in God's wonderful chain that put the rule of the world-kingdom into his hand! For years he had endured prison as a criminal of the worst reputation. Now he was about to pass in one step to the highest dignity and the largest power. "Only as regards the throne," as the king said, "will I be greater than you."
An older English version reads "shall all my people be ruled." The Hebrew is sharper, and uses a vivid picture of submission.
"According to your word shall all my people be ruled." This is too free. The Hebrew reads: "And on your mouth shall all my people kiss." Compare Ps. 2:12. Samuel kissed Saul when he anointed him (1 Sam. 10:1).
The verse first sets Joseph over the king's house. One writer draws the line from there to God's house.
Just as Pharaoh, the supreme ruler, said to Joseph of old, "You shall be over my house, and all my people shall order themselves as you command," so God has made Christ Lord over all things in His house.
Pharaoh holds back one thing: the throne. He keeps the dignity of his own place, and hands over the working authority.
Joseph's word was to rule all the people of Egypt. Pharaoh would of course not give his throne to Joseph, but he would depend on Joseph to manage all his affairs. The dignity of Pharaoh's position remained, but he gave authority into Joseph's hand. There is an analogy here. God always remains in the dignity of eternal glory. Yet He has given His beloved Son the place of supreme authority over His creation.
Writers trace the whole chain of events here: pit, dungeon, palace. They read it as a picture of the Lord Jesus.
Contrast this with the pit and the dungeon. Mark the chain of events that brought it all about. In it you have at once a marked display of the hand of God, and a striking picture of the sufferings and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. The envy of his brothers and the false judgement of the Gentile had put Joseph into the pit and the dungeon. Yet he was taken from there to be ruler over the whole land of Egypt — and more, to be the channel of blessing and the sustainer of life to Israel and the whole earth. Here is a man put, for all practical purposes, in the place of death by the hand of man, and then raised up by the hand of God and set in dignity and glory.
Pharaoh promotes Joseph for one reason: the man himself. The same principle stands behind the exaltation of Christ.
Egypt gave Joseph his place of exaltation on one ground only: his personal worth and the real service he had done for the country and kingdom of Egypt. And Philippians 2 shows that God has exalted Jesus (as a man) for one reason only — personal worthiness and obedience to the point of death.
Everyone in Egypt had to fall in line with Joseph's word. Submission to Christ is coming for all, gladly or under force.
If Joseph is supreme, all are called to submit. It is the same today. God has exalted the Lord Jesus and given Him a Name which is above every name, and the purpose is "that at the Name of Jesus every knee shall bow." The Christian is glad to bow during the plentiful years of grace. The world will have to bow in the years of famine.
- Pit — Joseph moved from prison to power in one step. The injustice done to him was the very link God used to get him there.
- Word — the Hebrew says more than "be ruled". The whole nation was to kiss his mouth and order their lives by his command.
- Throne — Pharaoh kept the throne and gave away the authority. In the same way, God keeps His eternal glory and gives His Son supreme authority over creation.
- Worth — no birth, no politics. Joseph rose for his own worth and service, and God exalted Christ for His worthiness and obedience to death.
- Knee — every knee will bow to the exalted One. The only question is whether you bow now in the years of plenty, or later under force.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, See, I have set thee over all the land of Egypt.
In one sentence, Pharaoh moves Joseph from a prison cell to the highest office in Egypt. How did this happen, and why does Scripture dwell on the rise of one foreign slave?
Joseph did nothing to win this office. One writer traces the whole rise to God's providence.
So Joseph rose without any effort of his own. He came from undeserved depths of suffering and disgrace to be prime minister of the greatest kingdom then on earth. Who could deny that God did this in His providence? Yet He used extraordinary means: His Spirit's power working in His servant.
"Over all the land of Egypt" is sweeping, yet Pharaoh remains Pharaoh. What changes is whose hand runs everything under it.
Pharaoh sets him over his house. Joseph's word would rule all the people of Egypt. Pharaoh would of course not give his throne to Joseph. But he would depend on Joseph to run all his affairs. The dignity of Pharaoh's position remained, but he gave authority into Joseph's hand. There is an analogy here. God always remains in the dignity of eternal glory. Yet He has given His beloved Son the place of supreme authority over His creation.
Set this verse beside the pit his brothers threw him into and the prison a false charge put him in. The shape of the story then points beyond Joseph.
Here was exaltation of no ordinary kind. Contrast this with the pit and the dungeon. Mark the chain of events that brought it all about. You have at once a clear display of the hand of God, and a striking picture of the sufferings and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. The envy of his brothers and the false judgement of the Gentile had put Joseph in the pit and the dungeon. God took him from there to rule the whole land of Egypt. And not only that: he became the channel of blessing and the sustainer of life to Israel and the whole earth.
Pharaoh gave the office for a reason. One writer applies that same ground to Christ.
All this is a picture of the present exaltation of Christ Jesus the Lord. He who was once the Crucified is now the Glorified. He whom men once put on a gallows has been placed by God on His throne. Joseph received his place of exaltation in Egypt only because of his personal worth and the real service he did for the country and kingdom of Egypt. Philippians 2 shows the same thing: God has exalted Jesus (as a man) only because of personal worthiness and obedience to death.
Being "over all the land" was not an honorary title. Egypt ate out of Joseph's hand.
That title "Lord" carries another thought besides authority. It does mean authority... but it also means administration. God has made Him the great Administrator in this present day of His grace. The illustration of it in the Old Testament is Joseph... He was the lord in Egypt, and the life of every Egyptian depended on him. He was the one who had charge of all the supplies of life, and he administered those supplies for the good of the people. God has taken the Lord Jesus Christ and exalted Him to the throne in heaven to administer His grace. Since He was exalted, no soul has ever received any favour or blessing from God except through our Lord Jesus Christ.
One man, not a council, held Egypt's government. One writer sees God's own method there.
This too is God's plan for the future government of the world. Not by parliaments or cabinets, not by counsellors and ministers, will God govern, but by "a Man discreet and wise" set over all. And all will be brought under His sway either by the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
Kelly sets a limit on the picture.
The despised and rejected One is exalted on His Father's throne, not yet on His own. He has all authority over a kingdom as wide as the world. It is a kingdom of a very special kind, which He received when He was cast out and away from His brothers.
- Set over — by God. Joseph rose "without any effort of his own"; Pharaoh's decree was God's providence at work.
- Set over — on merit. Joseph received the place for personal worth and real service — the same ground on which God exalted Christ.
- Set over — everything. Pharaoh kept his throne but put all authority into Joseph's hand. In the same way, God has given His Son supreme authority over creation.
- Set over — to feed. Lordship means administration. Every Egyptian lived by the man who held the food, and no one now receives a blessing from God except through Christ.
- Set over — by one Man. God governs by one wise man set over all, not by committees. People come under Him in the years of plenty or in the years of famine.
And Pharaoh took off his ring from his hand, and put it on Joseph's hand, and arrayed him in clothes of byssus, and put a gold chain on his neck.
Joseph steps out of prison and, on the same day, receives the seal, the robes and the gold of Egypt. Each gift carried a public meaning, and commentators read the whole scene as a picture of Christ lifted from humiliation to power.
The verse ends a long fall — the slave, then the prisoner. One writer puts the logic of Joseph's life into a single line.
Note, the humiliation of Joseph was God's path to his exaltation.
One writer follows Joseph's hand through each stage of the story, and finds the same shape in the life of Christ.
Once more, in verse 42, Joseph's hand appears. Its power and skill showed in Potiphar's house, in the ordinary affairs of life. Later it showed in scenes of much humiliation in the prison. Now, in the splendour of the palace, Pharaoh took the ring from his own hand and placed it on the hand of Joseph. It no doubt carried the great seal of the kingdom... Step by step he had gone down into the valley of humiliation. Now at one mighty bound he had risen into power and glory... In Philippians 2 we have the downward steps of our blessed Lord set out in detail, even to the death of the cross. But then comes one mighty lifting up into the glory, where every knee will have to bow to Him.
A signet ring was not jewellery. It was the king's own seal, so handing it over handed over real power.
Joseph had now reached the height of his glory. His word ruled all Egypt, and every knee had to bow to him. Pharaoh "made him lord of his house and ruler of all his possessions, to bind his princes at his pleasure and to teach his elders wisdom" (Ps. 105:21-22). His rule was therefore absolute. Only the king on his throne stood above him, and the signet ring of authority rested on his hand. Wielding the executive power of the kingdom, he brought everything in the realm under Pharaoh, as Genesis 47:13-26 shows.
Each of the three items said something different about the man now wearing them.
Pharaoh took off his ring — the ring that bore the royal cipher, his authoritative seal — and he put it on Joseph's hand... In this way he showed everyone that Joseph was the man of his right hand... The ring speaks of authority; the fine linen, of moral worth; the gold chain, of sovereign majesty. We sometimes speak of the threefold glories of Christ — Personal, Moral and Official.
Commentators differ here. Another writer reads the three items as a different set of truths about Christ.
The ring has no end, so it speaks of His eternal identification with God. The fine linen reminds us of the perfect purity of His Manhood (Rev. 19:8). The golden chain pictures His unity with the Father in His Godhead glory.
The chain also had a plain public meaning at the time.
Worn as the badge of office: Joseph and Daniel were given gold chains. Gen. 41:42; Dan. 5:7.
Pharaoh's gifts answered to what Joseph was worth and to what he had done for Egypt.
All this pictures the present exaltation of Christ Jesus the Lord. He who was once the Crucified is now the Glorified. He whom men once hung on a gallows has been placed by God on His throne. Joseph received his place of exaltation in Egypt purely because of his personal worth. It also rested on the actual service he had rendered to the country and kingdom of Egypt. Philippians 2 shows us the same thing. God has exalted Jesus (as a man) solely because of personal worthiness and obedience to the point of death. And Peter said on the day of Pentecost, to the very Jews who had condemned and crucified Him, "Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36).
Next came the public cry, "Bow the knee!" One writer turns it on the reader.
I have no doubt that when the cry went out, "Bow the knee," people asked, To whom? To Joseph? That slave, that man who was in prison? Never! I think I can hear many a proud Egyptian prince saying, I will never bow. Perhaps you have said, I will never bow to Christ. Wait a while. Pride never filled your stomach. It may have filled your heart. What will bring you down? A day of famine.
- Down first. Joseph's humiliation was not a detour around the throne; it was God's road to it.
- Then the seal. The ring carried Pharaoh's authority. Joseph's word became law in everything but the throne itself.
- Then the robes. Linen and gold were the badges of office. They marked Joseph as the man at the king's right hand. Writers see in them pictures of Christ's glories.
- Then the worth. The honours matched the man. Pharaoh raised Joseph for his own worth and service; God exalted Christ for His obedience to death.
- Then the knee. Egypt bowed to Joseph. Every knee will bow to Christ — now by choice, or later through famine.
And he caused him to ride in the second chariot that he had; and they cried before him, Bow the knee! and he set him over all the land of Egypt.
Genesis 41 ends with a stunning reversal: Pharaoh dresses a prisoner in fine linen and sends him through Egypt while heralds order the nation to bow. Commentators read the scene as history and as a picture of a greater exaltation, and it leaves every reader one question: who bows, and when?
The distance travelled is the point. Mackintosh measures the chariot ride against where Joseph had just come from.
Here, then, was exaltation of no ordinary kind. Contrast this with the pit and the dungeon. Notice the chain of events that brought it all about. You have at once a clear display of the hand of God, and a striking picture of the sufferings and glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. The envy of his brothers and the false judgement of the Gentile had put Joseph in the pit and the dungeon. From there he was taken to be ruler over the whole land of Egypt — and not only that, but to be the channel of blessing and the sustainer of life to Israel and the whole earth.
Joseph rides in Pharaoh's second chariot, not his first, and rules Egypt rather than Israel. Both limits are read as part of the accuracy of the picture, not as flaws in it.
But if it was not the kingdom of Israel, whose centre is Zion, this only confirms how fitting the picture is. One day He will be the one king of all the earth as well as of the chosen people, coming in manifest glory on the clouds of heaven. This is the rule of a kingdom completely different from that day. That day has in no way arrived, though it surely will. But the despised and rejected One is exalted on His Father's throne, not yet on His own. He has all authority over a kingdom as wide as the world, in a form quite special. He received it when He was cast out and separated from His brothers. Joseph's exaltation by the king of Egypt is the striking shadow of this.
Egypt is the nation that obeys the herald's order. One writer follows that detail out to all the nations.
No Egyptian could move without Joseph's permission, and heralds went before his chariot proclaiming, "Bow the knee." In his exaltation we see the exaltation of Christ, to whom every knee must bow. When that glory comes, He will be seen as Messiah, the true Son of David, the rightful Heir, and the restored and willing heart of Israel will pay Him homage. But not only that: just as the Egyptians bowed to Joseph's authority, so the nations will own the exalted Christ in that day to be King of kings and Lord of lords.
The cry is not treated as a museum piece. One writer takes the herald's three words as the fitting slogan for the present time.
Just picture for a moment how Joseph was made to ride in the second chariot, "and they cried before him, Bow the knee!" This is the right motto. "Bow the knee" is the command that suits everyone today, in the time after Christ suffered, the time when the church has been given to Him. The resistance of many to that command will not, in the end, stop them from bowing the knee to Him.
Egypt's nobles were ordered to kneel to a freed slave. Wolston turns that scene on the reader.
I think I see the trumpeters going before him, and hear them crying, "Bow the knee." Bow the knee to Joseph, the exalted Hebrew slave! Pharaoh had said it, and bow the people must. Sinner! God now tells you to bow the knee; bow your heart to Christ. Bow you must; bow you shall. You may reply, I won't bow! Yes, you will — for God has said, "By myself I have sworn; from my mouth has gone out in righteousness a word that shall not return: 'To me every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear allegiance.'" (Isaiah 45:23)
One thing is still open: how a person bows.
All have to bow to the crucified One. All have to confess Him Lord. But how sad to be "compelled by might" to do this before the judgment throne in the day to come. Far better to be "drawn by mercy" for eternal blessing in this day of grace.
Egypt did kneel — and the chapters that follow explain what finally persuaded the holdouts.
I have no doubt that when the cry went out, "Bow the knee," they said, To whom? To Joseph? That slave, that man who was in prison? Never! I think I can hear many a proud Egyptian prince saying, I will never bow. Perhaps you have said, I will never bow to Christ. Ah, wait a bit. Pride never filled your stomach. It may have filled your heart. What will bring you down? A day of famine.
- Pit first. The dungeon and the chariot belong to one chain of events, and that chain shows God's hand at work.
- Second, not first. Joseph rules Egypt, not Israel — a picture of Christ exalted on His Father's throne, with His own kingdom still ahead.
- Cry after. Heralds run before the chariot with an order, and the order still stands today: bow the knee.
- Choice now. Every knee will bow; the only question is whether it bows drawn by mercy today or compelled by might at the judgment throne.
- Famine last. Pride refuses the cry until hunger answers it — the empty heart is what finally bends the knee.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, I am Pharaoh; and without thee shall no man lift up his hand or his foot in all the land of Egypt.
Pharaoh's last word to Joseph settles the shape of the whole kingdom. The throne stays where it is. But every hand and every foot in Egypt now moves at the word of a former prisoner. Commentators read it two ways: as a claim no other king has matched, and as a picture of the authority Christ now holds.
Pharaoh opens by naming his own rank: "I am Pharaoh." Then he hands the running of Egypt to someone else.
Pharaoh would of course not give his throne to Joseph. But he would depend on Joseph to run all his affairs. The dignity of Pharaoh's position remained, but he gave authority into Joseph's hand. There is an analogy here. God always remains in the dignity of eternal glory. Yet He has given His beloved Son the place of supreme authority over His creation.
The two words Pharaoh chooses are not decoration. They cover everything a person does.
This was an imperial decree. In the same way, God has decreed by the honor of His own name that without Christ there is no true work (the hand) or walk (the foot) in all the world.
Rulers have made sweeping demands before. What makes this one stand out is what happened later, when famine drove the whole nation to Joseph's door and he took money, cattle, land and finally the people themselves.
The words of Pharaoh are literally fulfilled: "Without your consent no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt." Joseph uses his power to bring all into subjection. No earthly king before or since has made such claims... Others who have made large claims on their subjects have not been able to make them good. Or, in trying to do so, they have provoked rebellion and revolution. Joseph, however, not only makes unheard of claims. He makes them good, and no one raises a voice in rebellion.
Where Joseph rose from matters as much as where he rose to.
The envy of his brothers and the false judgement of the Gentile put Joseph in the pit and the dungeon. From there he was taken to be ruler over the whole land of Egypt. And not only that: he became the channel of blessing and the sustainer of life to Israel and the whole earth. This is all typical of Christ; indeed, a type could hardly be more perfect. We see a man laid in the place of death, for all practical purposes, by the hand of man. Then the hand of God raised him up and set him in dignity and glory.
There is also the question of why the honour fell to Joseph at all.
Joseph received his high place in Egypt on one ground only: his personal worth and the real service he did for the country and kingdom of Egypt. And Philippians 2 shows that God has exalted Jesus (as a man) only because of personal worthiness and obedience to death.
If one man holds all authority, everyone else must bow. And that call is not only for a future day.
Because Joseph is exalted and clothed with glory, all are called to "bow the knee" to him, and no one is to act without him... If Joseph is supreme, all are called to submit. And so today, if God has exalted the Lord Jesus and given Him a Name above every name, it is "that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow." The Christian delights to bow during the plentiful years of grace. The world will have to bow in the years of famine.
If no work or walk counts apart from Christ, then ability is not the deciding factor in a believer's life.
We may be gifted. We may have all knowledge and zeal and long experience. But it still remains true that without Christ we can do nothing. Gift, and knowledge, and zeal, are not power. All these things will not enable us to overcome the flesh, to refuse the world, or escape the snares of the devil.
- Pit first. Joseph reached the top through envy, false accusation and a prison cell. That is the pattern of a Man laid in the place of death by human hands, then raised up by God.
- Worth, not rank. Joseph rose for what he was worth and what he had done. Philippians 2 gives the same reason for the exaltation of Jesus.
- Throne kept, authority given. Pharaoh stayed Pharaoh; God stays in eternal glory. Both hand the running of everything to another.
- Hand and foot. The decree covers work and walk, so no corner of life is left out. And no gift, knowledge or zeal replaces dependence on Christ.
- Bow now or bow later. Joseph made his claim good over a whole nation without one voice of rebellion. Believers bow now, in the years of plenty; the world will bow in the years of famine.
And Pharaoh called Joseph's name Zaphnath-paaneah, and gave him as wife Asnath the daughter of Potipherah the priest in On. And Joseph went out over the land of Egypt.
Joseph leaves prison and becomes second in Egypt, and Pharaoh marks the change with two gifts: a new name and a wife. What does the name Zaphenath-paneah mean, and why is Joseph given a foreign bride at the hour of his honour?
Pharaoh does not ask Joseph's permission before renaming him. The same thing happens elsewhere in Scripture, and it says something about who is in charge:
The giving of names is a mark of lordship, or ownership. So Adam at the beginning gave names to the animals. Pharaoh gave a name to Joseph, Nebuchadnezzar to Daniel, and so on (Gen. 2:20; Gen. 41:45; Dan. 1:7).
The name itself has been read in more than one way, and one dictionary keeps both readings open:
This is the name Pharaoh gave to Joseph. Learned Jews translate it as a Hebrew name, "Revealer of secrets," as the margin of the Authorized Version does. But it is an Egyptian name, and read that way it has been interpreted "Prince of the life of the world" … and "The saviour of the world." These last two meanings suit Joseph well, since he is a picture of Christ.
Commentators differ on which language the name belongs to. One writer accepts both meanings at once:
Some say that Zaphnath-paaneah has a meaning whether you read it as Hebrew or as Egyptian. As Hebrew it would mean "Revealer of secrets." As Egyptian it would mean "Saviour of the world." We may gladly accept both. In this double meaning we see a further picture of the One whom we adore. In Him both revelation and redemption reach their high point and full completion, and we are blessed forever.
The two halves of the name are not just labels. One writer traces them into the Gospel account of the woman at the well, where a rejected Man of thirty crosses into foreign ground:
"He left Judea." He left His own people, to whom He had come, and in heart they had rejected Him. He goes out in the fullness of grace to defiled Samaria… There He proves Himself the true "Revealer of secrets" — the One who told the sinful woman all that she ever did. He forgets His toil. He forgets the long weary journey of that day through the burning heat… He forgets His father's house too, and in the land of His affliction He is fruitful.
Pharaoh's second gift is a wife. Notice when she is given:
But Pharaoh did not only give Joseph a full and glorious name — he gave him a wife as well, "Asenath, the daughter of Potiphera priest of On." This Gentile wife was given to Joseph while he was separated from his brothers. She is a most beautiful and unmistakable picture of the Church, given to Christ to be His bride while He is lost to His brothers according to the flesh — the Jewish nation.
One writer asks where Joseph's brothers were at this moment:
But what about Joseph's family, and his brothers who had sold him? When Asenath was given to Joseph, they knew nothing about his exaltation. As far as they were concerned, he was still a slave, sold to the Gentiles. Again, this is a beautiful picture: the Lord received His bride while His earthly people still rejected Him.
Asenath enters the story only after Joseph's long road to Egypt is behind him:
Joseph's path to Egypt, where he obtained his wife, was a path of suffering. Asenath suffered nothing at all. For her, being joined to Joseph meant joy and glory only. In the same way, the church has no share in the sufferings that led to her being joined to Christ.
The verse names Asenath's father as priest of On. That city had a character of its own:
On, or the city of the sun, Heliopolis, was the great seat of learning in Egypt and the place of its first college. In earlier days Potiphera lived there, the prince-priest of the sun and the father of Joseph's wife. Students there studied astronomy and every branch of science… On, as its name shows, was devoted to the sun, and so to the worship of it.
- Named — Pharaoh renames Joseph, and naming marks ownership. Adam named the animals; Nebuchadnezzar renamed Daniel.
- Meaning — As Hebrew the name means "Revealer of secrets." As Egyptian it means "Saviour of the world." Both fit the One Joseph pictures.
- Proved — His own people turned Him away, so Christ went to Samaria. There He told a woman all she had ever done, and was fruitful in the land of His affliction.
- Given — Joseph receives his bride while his brothers still think he is a slave. So Christ receives the Church while Israel still rejects Him.
- Free — Asenath paid nothing to reach Joseph. She received joy and glory only; the suffering was his, not hers.
And Joseph was thirty years old when he stood before Pharaoh king of Egypt. And Joseph went out from Pharaoh, and passed through the whole land of Egypt.
Genesis 41 closes its account of Joseph's rise with two small details: his age, and a journey. Why does the writer stop to tell us he was thirty? And what does it mean that a former slave now crossed the whole country as its ruler?
The number thirty is not there for decoration. Count back from it and you can measure how long Joseph waited. One commentator finds the same age at the start of Jesus' public work.
At this time we are told Joseph's age was 30 years (v. 46), the same as that of the Lord Jesus when He began His public ministry (Luke 3:23). So his combined time as a slave and in prison was 13 years. Now he goes out throughout all the land of Egypt. There he supervises the plans to gather into many storage places the huge amount of grain. That was only one-fifth of the overflowing abundance produced during the fruitful first seven years.
Those thirteen years were not lost time. Another writer reads them as the making of the man who could hold the job:
Now we see how God fulfilled the dreams of the boy of seventeen. In the years between, He was preparing him for this wonderfully exalted position by passing him through this dreadful experience. Steel is heated and cooled, heated and cooled, until it is well tempered. In the same way Joseph would develop character and trust in God that would serve him well.
Thirty was more than Joseph's age. Scripture attaches that number to the start of God's service.
Surely there are lessons to be learned from these facts. Thirty years was the God-appointed age for the Levites to enter their service (Num. 4:3); it was at that age our Lord was presented to Israel and entered His ministry (Luke 3:23).
Joseph now serves a Gentile king, with a wife and sons given him in Egypt, while his father's household lives far off. One writer reads the arrangement as a picture of Christ.
Then comes another wonderful working of God. The sheaves had not yet stood and bowed; the sun, moon and stars had not paid homage yet; but all was to follow not long after. The famine pressed on the land where Jacob lived as a stranger. Meanwhile Joseph was in Egypt with a new family, the children of the bride given him by the king. This clearly matches the place of Christ: cast out by Israel, sold by the Gentiles, but exalted in an entirely new place and glory. There He too can say, during His rejection and separation from Israel, "Behold, I and the children God has given me." Nothing could be plainer than the application of the type.
The order of the sentences matters too. Genesis names Joseph's wife in verse 45. Only then does it give his age.
The next verse (v. 46) mentions that "Joseph was thirty years old when he stood before Pharaoh." Some have noticed the timing of this remark: it comes after the mention of Asenath. They take it to illustrate that the church was already in the Lord's mind and in God's mind before He began His public ministry at age thirty, and before He gave Himself for her on the cross. Whether or not this is directly intended in the type before us, we leave to our readers to consider — but the fact is certainly true.
Older translations read "stood before Pharaoh" where the ESV has "entered the service of Pharaoh"; the writers quoted here use the older wording.
The verse does not end with the honour but with the journey. Power did not change Joseph's character; it only widened the field where it showed.
Faith marked Joseph's policy all through, and his wisdom became more and more obvious. And if this was true of the type, what is it with Him whom he represents on high? And what will it be when He takes the world under His rule, and all the earth is filled with the glory of the Lord? A godly Israelite called to govern Egypt could not have the light that the Lord's death, resurrection and ascension give to the Christian... But according to the measure granted then, Joseph was a bright witness of faith in that day. He was as honest in his high office as when he was a slave of the foreigner and the one his brothers persecuted.
- Thirteen — Sold at seventeen, ruler at thirty. The gap counts the years of slavery and prison God used as a workshop.
- Tempered — Heating and cooling temper steel. The suffering shaped the character the new job needed.
- Thirty — The age Levites entered God's service, and the age at which Jesus began His public ministry.
- Standing — Cast out by his brothers, Joseph now stands before a Gentile king with a new bride and family. It pictures Christ, refused by Israel and glorified elsewhere.
- Going out — He leaves the throne room to work. He is as honest in high office as he was as a slave, with faith shaping every decision.
And in the seven years of plenty the land brought forth by handfuls.
Joseph had told Pharaoh that seven years of plenty would come, and then seven years of famine. This verse is where the land itself proves him right. Commentators also read this overflowing harvest as a picture of the present day of God's giving. That raises a question: who is gathering while it lasts?
(Some older translations read, "the earth brought forth by handfuls." The writers below comment on that wording.)
This was no ordinary good year. The harvest was extravagant, and one writer sets its scale beside the age we live in:
There were seven years, not of plenty only, but of "great plenty." And during those years, we read, "the earth brought forth by handfuls." It was a time of extraordinary abundance. And there never was a day like the one in which we live. Never before this present age did God send His messengers out into all the world. He sent them to proclaim to every sinner a free and full salvation through faith in the name of His own exalted Son. In all God's earlier dealings with the earth there was never a time of such "abundance," such "great plenty."
Joseph had told Pharaoh two things: seven full years, then seven empty ones. The full years come first, and they are the first evidence:
What follows shows how well Joseph managed Egypt. For most people, overflowing plenty leads to extravagance and waste. But he knew in Whom he believed. He wisely took up the duty that fell on him more than on anyone else in the land of Egypt, and he made provision for the years of severe want... The overflowing harvest set the first seal on the prophecy God had given and interpreted. The famine set the second seal. That seal struck even harder those who barely believed such a change could come — a change so ruinous to comfort, and more and more dangerous to life.
A whole nation had food in its hands, but the record names only one man gathering it. One writer reads that silence as part of the picture:
In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plentiful years." The grace of God is giving out blessings by "handfuls." People of the world may neglect those blessings entirely, even though grace brings them to their door. They may go their way with no care for the future. It seems the people of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to store up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace. He is going through the world, gathering His people out of the world. But when the days of grace have run their course, He will deal with the people of the world.
The years of plenty were counted. They were always going to end, and one writer ties that to the urgency of today:
After Joseph's exaltation came the seven years of plenty. And these seven years of great abundance picture, if they do not exactly foreshadow, the present age of grace we are so happy to live in. "Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation," 2 Corinthians 6:2 says. And it will last till the coming of the Lord... Seven is the number of spiritual perfection, whether of good or evil. In these twice seven years we see two complete periods of time. The present is "the year of the Lord's favor." What follows is "the day of vengeance of our God."
This verse sits between Joseph's exaltation and the famine. One writer applies that window to what Christians now hold:
Verse 47 brings out another interesting detail about timing: "And in the seven years of plenty the land brought forth by handfuls." The time of the church corresponds to the "years of plenty" in which men and women are blessed as nobody has ever been blessed before (Ephesians 1:3). Outside the church age, no believer could ever claim to be "chosen before the foundation of the world," or "made acceptable in the Beloved." Not even the greatest men of God could claim it. Nor could Adam before he sinned. None of them could claim to be linked with Christ, or to have Christ as head, or to have any of the many blessings that belong to Christians alone. Even so, one question remains: do we enjoy these riches, or do we live as beggars in the time of plenty?
- Word. The overflowing harvest was God's first seal on what He had said through Joseph. The famine would be the second.
- Handfuls. This was not just a good season. It was extraordinary — a picture, commentators say, of a day of giving unlike any before it.
- Gatherer. The record never says the Egyptians stored anything. Joseph went through the land and gathered it in. So the exalted Christ gathers souls now.
- Window. The years of plenty were counted, and seven years of famine followed. That is why "now is the day of salvation" carries weight.
- Now. The riches are real. The question is whether we live like beggars in the middle of them.
And he gathered up all the food of the seven years that was in the land of Egypt, and put the food in the cities; the food of the fields of the city, which were round about it, he laid up in it.
The seven good years come just as Joseph said they would. He travels through Egypt and stores each city's harvest in that city, and commentators press one question: why did it all rest on one man?
Plenty usually makes people careless with it. Joseph did the opposite, and one writer traces his steadiness to what he believed:
The details that follow reveal the admirable administration of Joseph. Great plenty with most people leads to extravagance and waste. But he knew in Whom he believed, and he entered wisely into the duty which fell on him more than on anyone in the land of Egypt, and provided accordingly for the years of extreme want.
The same writer adds that the plenty did two things — it fed people, and it proved God's word true:
In this way everyone living on the soil was to benefit in the highest degree, from the ruler to every subject, and far beyond that land. The overflowing plenty put the first seal on the prophetic truth God had given and interpreted; the famine put the second.
The verse names only one gatherer. One writer draws a picture out of that:
During the years of plenty Joseph uses his place of exaltation to reap a great harvest for Egypt. He deals with the harvest of Egypt during the years of plenty; he will deal with the men of Egypt during the years of famine. In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plentiful years." The grace of God is giving blessings by "handfuls." The men of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door. They go on their way with no thought for the future. Apparently the men of Egypt took no advantage of the years of plenty to lay up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered up any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace.
Egypt now had one man over all its food. One writer takes that as a picture of what God plans for the world:
This, too, is God's plan for the future government of the world. Not by parliaments or cabinets, not by advisers and ministers, will God govern, but by "a Man discreet and wise" set over all. And all will be brought under His rule either by the day of grace or in the day of judgment — the years of plenty or the years of famine.
The storehouses Joseph filled reached far past Egypt's borders. One writer says the world's wheat supply hung on them:
Naturally speaking, wheat would have disappeared from the earth altogether if Joseph had not stored up the precious grain in Egypt with the wisdom God gave him. Through seed time and harvest it has been reproduced and kept in the earth as the true staff of life. And in it, given by God, we have a remarkable picture of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Another writer notes how Egypt treated that mercy later:
As to Egypt: Joseph was given to that land in mercy, and by him God made it the head of the nations, and the granary of the whole earth. But Joseph was forgotten, mercy was slighted, and then Moses and the plagues were sent.
Joseph filled the cities while nobody was hungry. One writer applies that to the ministry of God's word:
In a time of plenty who thinks of famine? But famine sometimes follows plenty. It was so in Egypt. There were first seven years of plenty, and then seven years of famine. All the plenty was forgotten when the famine consumed the land. So it is sometimes with the ministry of the word of God. Many honoured servants of the Lord are busy ministering Christ to souls. At such a time few perhaps consider that scarcity may follow the plenty.
- Store, not squander. Great plenty usually ends in waste; Joseph "knew in Whom he believed" and worked the good years for the bad ones.
- Store by one hand. The Egyptians gathered nothing. Joseph went through the land — a picture of the exalted Christ gathering souls during the day of grace.
- Store as God's method. God will rule the world not by parliaments or cabinets but by one wise Man set over all. Plenty or famine, grace or judgment, all are brought under Him.
- Store for the world. The grain fed everyone from the ruler down to the poorest subject, and far beyond Egypt. Without it, one writer says, wheat itself would have been lost.
- Store before you need it. In years of plenty nobody thinks of famine. The same thing can happen with the ministry of God's word.
And Joseph laid up corn as sand of the sea exceeding much, until they left off numbering; for it was without number.
Joseph piles up grain through the seven good years until the counting stops. Commentators press two questions here: how did Joseph stay steady in such plenty, and what is God picturing in these full storehouses?
Joseph is not saving scraps. He is storing a surplus so large that the counting has to stop.
Now he goes out through all the land of Egypt. He oversees the plans to gather the grain into many storage places. This grain was only one-fifth of the huge crop that the first seven fruitful years produced. The amount was so great that no one could count it.
Good years undo most people. Joseph held steady, because he trusted a Person and not the harvest.
The details that follow reveal the admirable administration of Joseph. With most people, overflowing plenty leads to reckless spending and waste. But he knew in Whom he believed. He wisely took up the duty that fell on him more than on anyone else in Egypt, and so provided for the years of severe want. In this way everyone living on the land was to gain the greatest benefit, from the king down to every subject, and far beyond that land.
One writer sets Joseph's storehouses beside the Lord's words after He fed the crowd. Both teach the same rule for daily life.
Only John, of the four Gospel writers, tells us that Jesus said to His disciples, "Gather up the leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost" (John 6:12). We may have more than enough for the moment. Even so, the Lord would not have us lose His gifts through waste or neglect. God gave seven years of plenty in Egypt, and the spirit of divine wisdom in Joseph planned effective ways to gather up the surplus and store it for the days of famine. Nothing was to be lost! … To waste is to despise His gifts, and to lose them. Thrift is not the opposite of true generosity.
The verse names one gatherer: Joseph. The Egyptians lived through the same seven years, but we never read that they stored anything.
During the years of plenty Joseph uses his place of exaltation to reap a great harvest for Egypt. … It seems the Egyptians took no advantage of the years of plenty to store up for the years of famine. We do not read that they gathered any food. It was Joseph who went throughout the land and gathered up grain. And so today it is the exalted Christ who is reaping a harvest of souls during the day of grace. He is going through the world, gathering His people out of it. But when the days of grace have run their course, He will deal with the people of the world.
One writer asks where Pharaoh's wealth lay once the famine came. His answer is a person, not a place.
The whole of Egypt was in need during those seven years of famine. Where did Pharaoh keep all his riches, his wealth, so that he could meet all that need in a way worthy of his throne, his majesty and his glory? In Joseph — not in the storehouses of grain, but in Joseph, with all his wisdom and ability… Now, where are all God's riches today? They are not in Israel, not in the nations, not in the church, or in the gifts, but in Christ Jesus. And so God meets our need — "according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus."
Joseph filled the storehouses before the famine came. Commentators read the world's present ease the same way.
Even now the world is enjoying its plentiful years, and it hardly believes in the future plainly predicted for it. Yet the time of famine is certainly not far off. It will show the resources of the One who will then prove to be the only One able to meet its terrible needs.
- Plenty. Joseph's stored surplus grew so large that no one could count it. This story starts with abundance, not shortage.
- Prudence. Plenty usually ends in waste. Joseph knew in Whom he believed, so he provided for the years of want.
- Preservation. "Nothing may be lost" is the same wisdom on a small scale. To waste God's gifts is to despise them, and thrift is not the enemy of generosity.
- Person. Egypt's wealth lay in the man who filled the granaries, not in the grain. God's riches today are in Christ Jesus, not in things.
- Prospect. The world is still living its plentiful years and ignoring the famine ahead. That famine will show that only One has resources equal to the need.
And to Joseph were born two sons before the year of famine came, whom Asnath the daughter of Potipherah the priest in On bore to him.
Joseph's two sons are born at a marked moment: after his rise to power, in the years of plenty, before the famine. Commentators read that timing, and the mother — a foreign woman, daughter of a priest of On — as a picture of Christ, His people, and the trouble that comes on the world afterwards.
The verse dates the boys' arrival by what had not yet happened. One writer takes that clause as the key to the picture.
Asenath bore two sons during this time of plenty, and the text says plainly that this happened "before the year of famine came" (v. 50). The order of events fits perfectly to show that the church and the time of her fruitfulness belong to the "years of plenty" before the time of tribulation (Matt. 24:21; Rev. 3:10; Rev. 6-19).
Joseph's wife comes from outside his own family and nation, and he receives her while he is cut off from his brothers. One writer sees the church here, and lists other Old Testament women who carry the same picture.
Pharaoh did not only give Joseph a full and glorious name. He gave him a wife as well: "Asenath, the daughter of Poti-pherah, priest (or prince) of On." Joseph received this Gentile wife while he was separated from his brothers. She is a most beautiful and unmistakable picture of the Church, given to Christ to be His bride, during this time when He is lost to His brothers by natural birth — the Jewish nation. There are seven such pictures of the Church (if we include Rachel) in the Old Testament: Eve, Rebekah, Rachel, Asenath, Zipporah, Abigail, and Solomon's queen, the daughter of Pharaoh.
Her background sharpens the picture.
This is in great contrast with Rebekah, where Abraham had insisted that only one of his own family would be suitable as a bride for Isaac… Asenath is the Gentile, the stranger to the promises of Israel. She gives a picture of the church as the bride that has come from among the Gentile nations and not from Israel exclusively.
The sons carry a meaning of their own, and their names say what it is.
I have mentioned Joseph's two sons in passing. They stand for the people who make up the Church of God today, just as Asenath their mother represents the Church as a whole. Their names carry striking meaning. Joseph calls the firstborn Manasseh, forgetting. "For God," he said, "has made me forget all my hardship and all my father's house."… The second son he names Ephraim, fruitful. "For God," he says, "has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction." And though our Lord, according to the prophecies that had gone before, was as Messiah "cut off and had nothing," as far as the kingdom goes He is fruitful in the salvation of multitudes of "sinners of the Gentiles." These answer to the sons of Joseph. "Behold," says Christ, referring to these Ephraims, "I and the children God has given Me." He is, blessed be His name, bringing "many sons to glory," in this the day of His rejection.
The family was complete before the hard years began. Commentators take that order as more than a household detail.
There was a time of trouble coming; but before it arrived, the fruit of his union appeared. The children God had given him came into being before this time of trial. So will it be with the Church. All its members will be called out, the whole body will be completed and gathered to the Head in heaven, before "the great tribulation" which shall come upon all the earth.
One writer turns that word "before" on his hearers, and refuses to rest the teaching on a picture alone.
Verse 50 of our chapter says plainly that these sons were born to Joseph "before the year of famine came." Now this is solemn. If you want to be among the happy people pictured by Joseph's sons, you must be saved before the coming of the Lord… We do not base this truth on a picture, however; the picture only illustrates it. It is taught directly in the New Testament Scriptures.
Marrying the daughter of a pagan priest raises an obvious question. One writer answers it by pointing to what such marriages were meant to picture.
Many have thought that Solomon's union with the daughter of the king of Egypt was an act of unfaithfulness to the requirements of the law. Forgetting the symbolic meaning of the Word may lead to such mistakes. Would we say that Joseph was unfaithful in marrying Asenath, the daughter of Potipherah, priest of On (Gen. 41:50)? that Moses was unfaithful in marrying Zipporah, daughter of the priest of Midian (Ex. 2:21)?
- Before — the verse hangs on one word: the sons arrived while the grain was still piling up, not after the famine began.
- Exaltation first — the bride and the sons come only after Joseph is raised to power.
- A stranger chosen — Asenath has no share in Israel's promises. Commentators see in her a people drawn from the nations.
- Fruitful in rejection — Joseph gains this family in the land of his affliction, while his own brothers still know nothing of him.
- Finished, then famine — the household was complete before the hard years fell. Commentators press that as a reason not to delay.
And Joseph called the name of the firstborn Manasseh -- For God has made me forget all my toil, and all my father's house.
Joseph names his firstborn at the height of his power in Egypt. The pit, the slavery and the prison lie years behind him. The name he picks says who ended their hold on him: God, not time. Commentators read the name along two lines: what it says about Joseph as a picture of Christ, and what it asks of anyone who wants their past to lose its grip.
"Manasseh" is a word about memory, and Joseph puts God behind it. Both sons' names show what their father felt as God raised him high, far from his own people. One writer compares them with the names Moses gave his sons.
Manasseh means "causing to forget," as Ephraim means "fruitfulness"; and they show their father's feelings during his remarkable rise to honour outside Israel, for blessing. The names Moses gave his sons do not speak of forgetting his brothers. They speak of his sense of being a stranger, cut off from them, and counting on "God my help." Both meet in perfection in our Lord Jesus.
This is not the wiping of a memory but the loss of its pull. One writer argues that nobody forgets his background until something better has taken hold of him.
No one can truly say that he forgets "his father's house" until his heart has found a treasure in a brighter scene. Then wherever he is in body becomes the land of exile to him. Yet he has no wish to go back to the past. He forgets it... It is a wonderful freedom for a man when what he has found and now holds in heaven puts into the shade, into obscurity and forgetfulness, all the natural pride of birth and family line tied to our "father's house."
Joseph builds a family in Egypt while his brothers know nothing of his glory. One writer sees Christ here, set apart with a heavenly bride, and says His seeming forgetfulness toward Israel is no change of mind.
For His Church, His heavenly bride, He has been content to be as if He did not remember His relationship with His people of old. The thread of prophecy lies unwoven on the loom of time, as if its wheel had stopped forever. What does this attitude of forgetfulness mean, on the part of Him who never slumbers or sleeps? Surely no change. He is carrying out eternal purposes. When those purposes are complete, Israel will look on the face of Him whom they pierced, and a fountain will be opened to them also for sin and for uncleanness.
The name also looks at what the suffering produced. Joseph's toil did not vanish; it found its answer in a harvest. (Where the ESV says "hardship," older translations say "toil," the word these writers use.)
Rejected by his brothers, his path had been one of suffering and toil, but Joseph has his great reward and becomes fruitful in the land of his affliction. Nor is it otherwise with Christ... His "toil" has its glorious answer in a great harvest of souls gathered out of the world during the time of His rejection by Israel. The time when He is "forgotten" by Israel is the time when He gathers fruit among the Gentiles.
Taken by itself, forgetting achieves nothing. One writer ties the name to the runner in Philippians and refuses to let it become mere self-denial.
"Forgetfulness" is only negative when it stands alone: as a means to an end it must be tied to that end and ruled by it, to have its proper character... So "to me to live is Christ," from the man who declared himself a Manassite, "forgetting what lies behind" (Phil. 1:21; Phil. 3:13). It was not self-denial for its own sake; it was absorption: counting all things "as rubbish" to "gain Christ" (Phil. 3:8).
Manasseh never stands alone in the chapter. The order of the two names carries the lesson.
This is a picture of the truth of Christianity. It makes us forget the first creation, with its natural relationships and its irritating trials. But that is because it brought in something better: the new creation, of which Christ is the Head. The name of Joseph's second son, Ephraim, which means "fruitful," carries this... Manasseh therefore implies the negative side of the truth, Ephraim the positive.
Neither name came out of comfort. The road to this testimony ran through Joseph's worst years.
It required both the pit and the prison to develop and mature this testimony of Joseph. And is it not so with His saints now? Can there be either forgetfulness or fruitfulness, except as death does its work in us?
- Pit — suffering formed the testimony; the pit and the prison came before the naming.
- God — Joseph credits the forgetting to God, not to success or the passing of years.
- Forgetting — the name means "causing to forget." A better treasure empties the old one of its power.
- Fruit — forgetting is only the negative half. Ephraim, "fruitful," is the point it serves, and Christ gathers His harvest while Israel rejects Him.
- Return — the forgetting only looks final. When God completes His purpose, Israel will look on the One they pierced.
And the name of the second he called Ephraim -- For God has caused me to be fruitful in the land of my affliction.
Joseph's second son is born in Egypt, the land where he was sold as a slave and later thrown in prison. The name he gives the boy raises two questions: how can a place of suffering become a place of fruit, and what does it show us about Christ?
Joseph names both sons out of his own experience, and the two names work as a pair. One looks back at what he left behind. The other looks at what God produced.
The names of the sons are significant. Manasseh means "Forgetting," and Ephraim means "Fruitful." The elder's name was negative in what it marked. It recalled that he had been cut off from all his old family ties, and from the hard work and sorrow of his early years. The younger's name had a more positive meaning. It marked the fruitfulness that came out of his earlier afflictions.
Joseph does not say God made him fruitful after the affliction ended. The fruit came in the very land where he suffered. Commentators apply the same pattern to the Christian.
Ephraim means "fruitful," for only in new creation is there true fruitfulness for God. Even in the land of Joseph's affliction God had made him fruitful. So today, the Christian should expect affliction. But he already belongs to the new creation, and so he is fitted to bear fruit for God.
Joseph's road to this moment ran through a pit and a prison. One writer notes that neither name could exist without that road. The same principle holds for us.
It required both the pit and the prison to develop and mature this testimony of Joseph. And is it not so with His saints now? Can there be either forgetting or fruitfulness, unless death is really at work in us? Is it not as we carry the dying of Jesus in our body, and are always handed over to death for His sake, that His life is shown? … To His death we owe everything. By it He has set us free from the moral pit and prison where we were hopelessly ruined.
Commentators read Joseph as a picture of Christ. His brothers turned against him, and while he is still cut off from them he gains a family and a harvest in a foreign land.
Rejected by his brothers, his path had been one of suffering and toil, but Joseph has his great reward and becomes fruitful in the land of his affliction. Nor is it otherwise with Christ. His ancient people may despise and reject Him. They may count Him among the transgressors. But in the day of His rejection, when His soul is made an offering for sin, then "He shall see His offspring," yes, "Out of the anguish of His soul He shall see and be satisfied." … The time when He is "forgotten" by Israel is the time when He gathers fruit among the Gentiles.
If Joseph pictures Christ, the sons born to him in Egypt are more than a family detail. They stand for the people gathered to Christ while He is rejected.
Joseph's two sons clearly stand for the individuals who make up the Church of God today, just as Asenath their mother represents the Church as a whole. … The second son he names Ephraim, fruitful. … "Behold," says Christ, referring to these Ephraims, "I and the children God has given Me." He is, blessed be His name, bringing "many sons to glory," in this the day of His rejection.
Egypt gave Joseph no help for his faith. The believer's calling is the same: bear fruit where everything pulls the other way.
We are left in a world we ought to have nothing in common with, so that we may be fruitful for Christ. And we are left where there is nothing at all to help us. Everything here, even the best of it, draws us away from the only source of fruitfulness and blessing. … to be on earth like a tree turned upside down, the roots in heaven, the branches here.
- Affliction — Joseph's fruit grew in the same soil as his suffering. God made him fruitful in the land of his affliction, not after he left it.
- Death — The pit and the prison came first. Commentators tie the fruit to death at work in us, so that the life of Jesus shows.
- Christ — The pattern is His. Rejected by His own people, He gathers fruit among the Gentiles during the very time He is forgotten by Israel.
- Children — The fruit has names and faces. Joseph's sons, born in exile, picture those Christ can point to and say, "I and the children God has given me."
- Now — The land of affliction is the Christian's present address. Roots in heaven, branches here — fruitful in a place that offers no help toward it.
And the seven years of plenty that were in the land of Egypt were ended;
Genesis 41 ends at a turning point: the plenty Pharaoh dreamed of runs out on time, and the years of hunger begin. The rest of Joseph's story turns on two questions — who prepared, and what will the man in charge do now?
Pharaoh had dreamed the same message twice. One writer explains what the repeat meant.
Joseph explains that both dreams pointed to one event: seven years of plenty, followed by the same number of years of famine, worse than any before. Both were God's doing, for extraordinary ends. So was His making it all known to Pharaoh, which lay beyond what any man could know. The doubling of the dream showed not only that it was certain, but that it would come quickly. God does not deceive, and He is not mocked.
Good years feel permanent while they last. One writer applies the end of Egypt's plenty to the world at large.
It is when we face our need that we learn how truly nothing we are, and cry out to Him who then proves Himself the living God. But God's remedy is Christ alone. He has put all things into His hand, completely and without ever taking it back. He would have all men to be saved, but no other name is given by which we can be saved. What is true of one person is true of the world. The world at large will not turn to God in Christianity's years of plenty. So drought and famine come from the same hand that gave the blessing unrecognised.
Another writer brings this into the present day.
In this day of grace the world is passing through its "seven plentiful years," when the grace of God is handing out blessings by "handfuls." The people of the world may completely ignore the blessings that grace brings to their door, and go on their way with no thought for the future. It seems the men of Egypt made no use of the years of plenty to store up for the years of famine.
Egypt was not spared the famine. It was simply the one country that got ready for it.
The seven years of plenty come to an end, as God had warned through Joseph. The famine came, not only to Egypt, but to other countries also. But Egypt alone had prepared for the famine.
One writer boils Joseph's plan down to a single rule.
Joseph's advice is very simple. During the years of plenty, store up for the future. Yes — prepare for the future; that is the point.
The famine put Joseph in charge of the food. His brothers and the Egyptians who had wronged him now needed him to survive.
How will Joseph act in the years of famine? His brothers had thrown him into the pit; the Gentiles had thrown him into prison. Will Joseph seize the world's desperate need, and his brothers' need, as his chance to take revenge? Human nature might act that way, but grace takes another road. Joseph will use his place of supreme power to bless everyone. Yet while he shows grace he will uphold righteousness. So the Gentiles will be forced to cry out in need, and they must submit to Joseph before they receive the blessing.
While the storehouses filled, nobody cared about the man filling them. Hunger changed that.
During the days of plenty the world paid little attention to Joseph. We hear nothing of his brothers; they had no interest in him at all. But when the famine set in, need woke up… The need brings out a cry for bread, and the Gentiles have to learn, and his brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the man they once despised and rejected.
Pharaoh sent the starving crowds to one man. One writer hears the gospel in that answer.
When the people cried to Pharaoh for help, his reply was simple: "Go to Joseph. What he says to you, do." This at once reminds us of the words spoken by the mother of our Lord at His first miracle: "Do whatever he tells you" (John 2:5). Does a sinner with a stricken conscience cry out today for salvation? The answer is three words: "Go to Jesus." All God's grace and generosity flows through Him.
- Warned — God doubled the dream to show it was certain and near. The plenty ended when He said it would.
- Wasted — Egypt's people enjoyed seven rich years and stored nothing. Only the man who believed the warning laid food up.
- Withdrawn — Comfort does not turn hearts to God, so the same hand that gave the abundance sends the famine.
- Wanted — Ignored while the barns were full, Joseph becomes the one name on every hungry lip once the food runs out.
- Welcomed — He could have used the crisis for revenge. Grace chose to bless everyone instead, and Pharaoh met the cry for bread with three words: go to Joseph.
and the seven years of the dearth began to come, according as Joseph had said. And there was dearth in all lands; but in all the land of Egypt there was bread.
The seven good years end, and the famine starts exactly on time, reaching far beyond Egypt. Only one country has bread, and only one man decides who gets it.
The famine did not arrive as a surprise. God gave the whole timetable in advance, and it left a foreign king in no doubt about who stood behind it.
When God sent drought into Egypt He laid His whole plan before Joseph in advance. This Joseph passed on to Pharaoh. There were to be seven years of plenty before the seven years of drought. This made the pagan king feel that the God of heaven was greater than all the gods of Egypt. They could not foretell what was coming, and they could not provide for it when it came (Gen. 41).
The shortage was worldwide; the supply was not. Egypt had prepared. One writer draws a line from that store of grain to Christ.
The seven years of plenty came to an end, as God had forewarned by Joseph. The famine came, not only to Egypt, but to other countries also. But Egypt alone had prepared for the famine (v. 54)… The Father has sent the Son to be the Savior of the world (1 John 4:14). Therefore He directs us all to the Lord Jesus as the One appointed to care for our needs. Joseph opened all the storehouses of Egypt (v. 56). In the same way, the Lord Jesus has opened the storehouses of heaven through His great sacrifice at Calvary, for the blessing of those who find themselves in spiritual poverty. There is one great difference: the Lord Jesus gives freely, "without money and without price."
The good years left Joseph forgotten. The famine changed that for two groups at once: the nations around, and his own brothers.
During the days of plenty the world paid little attention to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they were completely indifferent to him. But when the famine set in, need woke up: "the land of Egypt was famished" (v. 55). Jacob and his sons faced starvation and death (Gen. 42:1-2). The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn it, and the brothers discover it: no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected.
The same lesson reaches beyond grain. One writer traces both the plenty and the famine to the same hand.
So when God's judgments are in the earth, the inhabitants of the world will learn righteousness. Face to face with our need, we learn that we are nothing. Then we cry out to Him, and He proves Himself the living God. But God's remedy is Christ alone. He has put all things in His hand, completely and with no going back… In the plentiful times of Christianity the world at large will not turn to God. So drought and famine come from the same hand that gave the blessing, though no one knew it.
Famine put absolute power in the hands of a man who had been badly wronged. The question is what he would do with it.
How will Joseph act in the years of famine? His brothers had put him in the pit, the Gentiles had thrown him into prison. Will Joseph use the world's desperation and his brothers' need as his chance for revenge? Nature might act that way, but grace will take another road. Joseph will use his place of supremacy and power for universal blessing. But while showing grace he will maintain righteousness. So a cry of need will be forced out of the Gentiles, and they must submit to Joseph before they receive the blessing.
The famine years also point forward. One writer sees in them a trial the world has not yet faced.
Pharaoh's dream foretold seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine that will swallow them up. Even now the world is enjoying its years of plenty, and it hardly believes the future plainly foretold for it. Still, the time of famine is not far off. It will show what He can supply. He will then be seen as the only one able to meet its terrible demands.
- Warned. God told Joseph the famine in advance; Egypt's wise men could neither predict it nor prepare for it.
- Stored. Egypt had bread in the famine for one reason: Joseph filled the stores in the good years, before anyone felt hungry.
- Ignored. While the plenty lasted, neither the nations nor Joseph's own brothers gave him a thought.
- Starved. Need is what taught them: face to face with our own nothingness we cry out, and God's remedy is Christ alone.
- Supplied. The man with every reason for revenge used his power to bless instead. But blessing came only to those who came and submitted.
And all the land of Egypt suffered from the dearth. And the people cried to Pharaoh for bread; and Pharaoh said to all the Egyptians, Go to Joseph what he says to you, that do.
Egypt's storehouses were full. But Pharaoh did not hand out grain at the palace door. When the people cried to him, he sent them all to one man. So a national food crisis becomes a personal question: who do you go to for bread?
For seven years nobody needed Joseph. One writer follows what hunger changed — for Egypt, and for the brothers who sold him.
During the days of plenty the world paid little heed to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they were completely indifferent to him. When, however, the shortage set in, need is awakened. "All the land of Egypt was famished," and Jacob and his sons face starvation and death. The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn it, and the brothers discover it: no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected.
One writer turns that on the reader: hunger, not comfort, is what sends a person to Christ.
Perhaps, my dear friends, you have held out against the famine. Do you know what brought the prodigal son back to his father in Luke 15? There was a famine. Do you know what brought me to Christ forty-three years ago? Famine in my heart. You have heard the gospel dozens of times. You say, I am not going to have Christ just now. But already you have begun to find that the world does not satisfy you. Yes, you have an empty heart.
Pharaoh does not describe a policy. He names a man, and tells the whole country to do what that man says. Commentators hear God's own answer to a hungry conscience in it.
The closing verses of Genesis 41 record the complete fulfilment of Pharaoh's dream. The famine that resulted was unusually severe, covering the whole inhabited earth. When the people cried to Pharaoh for relief, his reply was simple: "Go to Joseph. What he says to you, do." This at once reminds us of the words the mother of our Lord spoke at His first miracle: "Do whatever he tells you" (John 2:5). Does a conscience-stricken sinner cry out today for salvation? The answer in three words is, "Go to Jesus." All God's grace and generosity flows through Him.
The people took their hunger to the throne, not to Joseph. One writer says people still treat Christ that way.
"Go to Joseph," said Pharaoh, and that is what God is saying to you from glory — "Go to Jesus. Bow to Jesus." I think I can see them all ignoring Joseph and going to Pharaoh. People now ignore Jesus in the same way, yet think they may go to God direct. You must bow. He is given a name above every name, and God has declared that at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow.
Another writer comes at the same point from God's side.
Face to face with our need, we learn our true nothingness. We cry out to Him, and He proves Himself the living God. But God's remedy is Christ alone. He has put all things in His hand, absolutely and without changing His mind. He would have all men to be saved, but there is no other name given by which we can be saved.
Joseph unlocked the stores he had spent seven years filling. One writer draws the parallel to Christ, then names the one great contrast.
Joseph opened all the storehouses of Egypt. In the same way the Lord Jesus has opened the storehouses of heaven, through His great sacrifice of Calvary, to bless those who find themselves reduced to spiritual poverty. There is one great contrast. The Lord Jesus gives free of charge, "without money and without price." People from all countries came to Egypt to buy food. The grace of God in Christ is available for all the nations today. The whole world is in a state of spiritual famine.
Pharaoh points the nation to Joseph; Joseph keeps pointing the nation back to Pharaoh. One writer sees the arrangement stretching far past Egypt.
Though exalted by Pharaoh, he hides himself, as it were, and binds the people in lasting obligation to the king. Pharaoh says, "Go to Joseph," and Joseph, in effect, says, "all you have and all you are belong to Pharaoh." This is a delight to see. It leads the soul on to that glorious time when the Son of Man will take the reins of government into His own hand, by divine appointment, and rule over the whole redeemed creation.
- Famine — plenty left people indifferent to Joseph; hunger produced the cry. Emptiness is what drives anyone to seek supply.
- Cry — the people appealed to the throne, and the throne redirected them. Going "direct" was the one thing Pharaoh would not allow.
- One man — all the grain sat in one pair of hands. Commentators read that as God putting all things in Christ's hand, with no other name that saves.
- Obey — the order was not only to go, but to do what he said, echoed in "Do whatever he tells you."
- World — Egypt, the nations around it, and the brothers who sold him all came to the same door. Joseph turned every benefit back to his king.
And the famine was on all the earth. And Joseph opened every place in which there was [provision], and sold grain to the Egyptians; and the famine was grievous in the land of Egypt.
Seven years of plenty have ended. The famine Joseph predicted now reaches far past Egypt's borders, and the storehouses he filled stand open. What he does with that power, and what he pictures, is the question.
The good years and the hungry years each proved that Joseph's reading of the dream came from God. One writer treats them as two separate seals on the same prophecy.
Great abundance leads most people into waste and extravagance. But he knew in Whom he believed. He took up wisely the duty that fell on him more than on anyone else in Egypt, and he provided for the years of extreme want. So everyone living on that soil was to benefit in the highest degree, from the sovereign down to every subject, and far beyond that land. The huge surplus set the first seal on the prophecy God gave and explained. The famine set the second seal. That one struck harder, because many had barely believed a change so damaging to comfort and more and more dangerous to life.
Joseph now controls the region's food. The men who put him in a pit and a prison are inside that region.
His brothers had put him in the pit; the Gentiles had thrown him into prison. Will Joseph seize the moment of the world's extremity and his brothers' need, and use his power to take revenge? Nature might act that way, but grace will take another path. Joseph will use his place of supremacy and power for universal blessing. But while showing grace he will still maintain righteousness. So need will wring a cry from the Gentiles, and they must submit themselves to Joseph before they receive the blessing.
During the good years nobody needed him. Hunger changed that, for the Gentiles and for his own family alike.
During the days of plenty the world paid little attention to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they were completely indifferent to him. When the shortage set in, need awoke... The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected... The once rejected but now exalted man is the only resource, for the Gentile nations as much as for Jacob and his sons.
The verse says Joseph opened the stores and sold the grain. One writer draws the line from that act to Christ, and marks where the two part ways.
Joseph opened all the storehouses of Egypt (v. 56). In the same way the Lord Jesus has opened the storehouses of heaven, through His great sacrifice at Calvary, for the blessing of those who have found themselves reduced to spiritual poverty. There is one great contrast: the Lord Jesus gives freely, "without money and without price." People from all countries came to Egypt to buy food (v. 57). The grace of God in Christ is available for all the nations today, while the whole world lies in spiritual famine.
Commentators differ on where this scene points. Some apply it to the present offer of the gospel, as above. Others read the worldwide famine as a picture of a worldwide trial still to come.
The famine foretold by Joseph was not limited to the land of Egypt... This famine, we have seen, is a picture of "the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth" (Rev. 3:10)... Joseph opened all the storehouses to these starving peoples, just as Christ will open to the nations outside the Christian world the rich, full stores of the grace of God. Joseph's brothers passed through painful trials and experiences before he made himself known to them. All of that foreshadows the sorrows and repentance of the Jewish remnant before they accept Christ in the last days.
The same lesson presses on people who already believe. Bread existed in Egypt, but only for those who dealt with the man who held it.
In Joseph's day, only those who dealt with Joseph in their need had bread. It is the same now. Christ is the One who sustains our life. Many are faint, confused and unsure, because they do not go to Him to feed on His truth. In the old days the people came to Joseph and said, "Give us bread." In the same way, all believers have to learn that there is famine everywhere apart from the blessing of the One greater than Joseph.
- Word proved. The plenty sealed Joseph's prophecy once. The famine sealed it again, and harder.
- Stores filled. Wise use of the good years, not the emergency itself, is what put bread in the storehouses.
- Need felt. Plenty left the world indifferent to Joseph. Hunger made the rejected man the only resource, for Gentile and brother alike.
- Stores opened. Christ has opened heaven's stores through the cross. He gives without money and without price.
- Bread now. There is famine everywhere apart from the One greater than Joseph. Believers grow faint when they do not come to Him for food.
And all countries came into Egypt to Joseph, to buy [grain], because the famine was grievous on the whole earth.
Seven years of plenty end, and the famine spreads far past Egypt's borders. Commentators ask why God let hunger reach every land, and who this ruler with the grain points to.
Through the good years nobody needed Joseph. The famine changed that — for foreigners and for his own family alike.
During the days of plenty the world paid little heed to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing, they were completely indifferent to him. When, however, the shortage set in, need is awakened... The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected. The Gentiles must "go to Joseph," and the brothers must bow before him with their faces to the ground. The once rejected but now exalted man is alone the resource, both for Gentile nations and for Jacob and his sons.
The world could come to Egypt only because one man had saved through the good years. His provision reached far beyond his own country.
The details that follow reveal the admirable administration of Joseph. For most people, huge plenty leads to reckless spending and waste. But he knew in Whom he believed. He wisely took up the duty that fell on him more than on anyone else in Egypt, and he provided for the years of extreme want. So everyone living on the land was to benefit to the highest degree, from the king down to every subject — and far beyond that land as well.
The hunger that pushed every nation toward Egypt was not an accident of weather. God sent it, and feeding hungry people was not His main aim.
Egypt is prepared for them; then God sends famine, and drives them there. Truly His hand is seen at every step. God could have fed them in the land despite the famine, as He did with both Abraham and Isaac. But principles had to be learned there which could be learned nowhere else... To provide food was not the main object. It was a smaller purpose serving a greater one: that in Joseph there might be a picture of one greater than himself, who suffered from a deeper hatred, and who is a greater Deliverer from a worse famine.
Hungry Egyptians appealed to Pharaoh, and Pharaoh sent them to Joseph. One writer sees the same pattern in the way God's blessing reaches people now.
As in the famine in Egypt all who came to Pharaoh were told to "Go to Joseph," so now all who come to God must come through the Lord Jesus... He has fought the fight, He has gained the victory, He has glorified God. Now He is raised and glorified. As the result of Christ's victory, God gives every blessing He has for man through Christ as Lord.
The comparison holds at every point but one — the price. The nations paid; the greater than Joseph does not charge.
Joseph opened all the storehouses of Egypt. In the same way, the Lord Jesus has opened the storehouses of heaven through His great sacrifice at Calvary, to bless those who have found themselves reduced to spiritual poverty. One great contrast, however, is that the Lord Jesus gives freely, "without money and without price." People from all countries came to Egypt to buy food (v. 57). The grace of God in Christ is available for all the nations today, at a time when the whole world is in a state of spiritual famine.
Commentators differ on where the picture lands. Grant applies it to the world's hunger today. Another writer reads the famine as a preview of a coming time of trial.
This famine, we have seen, is a picture of "the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth" (Rev. 3:10)... The nations flocking to Joseph to buy grain picture the great gospel movement among the nations that do not know God, after the removal of the Church. Joseph opened all the storehouses to these starving peoples. In the same way, Christ will open the rich, full stores of the grace of God to the nations outside of Christendom.
- Sent. The famine reached every land by God's hand, not by chance; His purpose ran deeper than feeding people.
- Stored. One man believed the warning and saved through the good years, so the benefit ran far beyond his own country.
- Scorned. In plenty the world ignored him. In want he was the only resource — for foreigners and for the brothers who rejected him.
- Sent onward. Pharaoh's answer to every plea was "Go to Joseph." All who come to God now come through the Lord Jesus, and God gives every blessing through Him.
- Free. The nations paid for their grain. Christ opens His storehouses "without money and without price" to a world in spiritual famine.
And Jacob saw that there was grain in Egypt, and Jacob said to his sons, Why do ye look one upon another?
The famine has reached Canaan, and Jacob's sons sit staring at each other. Their father's question sends them down to Egypt — and to the brother they sold.
The hunger that reaches Canaan is no accident of weather. It is a tool in God's hand.
How often God chooses to use hard times for His own purposes and in His ways! It is for the good of all, saints and sinners alike. So it is here. The pinch of want fell on Jacob and his sons; "for the famine was in the land of Canaan."
Years passed and the brothers' guilt seemed buried. The famine ends that silence.
God produced grief of heart, and exercises of conscience, in a most wonderful way. Years rolled on, and these brothers might have wrongly imagined that all was well. But then came "seven years of plenty, and seven years of scarcity!" What did they mean? Who sent them? And what were they designed for? Admirable providence! Unsearchable wisdom! The famine reaches Canaan. The calls of hunger actually bring the guilty brothers to the feet of the injured Joseph!
Jacob's question exposes the uselessness of ten men consulting each other when none of them has bread. They are looking in the wrong direction.
Under the stress of famine Jacob has to say to his sons, "Why do you look at one another?" They are in a desperate plight. This much they realise: there is no help in one another. If help is to come, it must come from someone outside themselves. So the ten brothers come to Egypt and present themselves before Joseph.
Jacob had heard a report. A report keeps nobody alive. Someone had to go and fetch the grain — from the one man they had thrown away.
They heard that there was grain in Egypt. They heard that there was deliverance to be had if only they could get it, and they were perishing. They heard there was salvation. They felt their need, and felt they would like to be saved. But they could not get salvation without going to the saviour. They could not get deliverance apart from the deliverer. In their hunger they could get food only from Joseph. He was the despised one, the one they had hated, the one they had cast out and sold. Yet he was the one whom God had raised up to hold every resource in his power, and everything that could meet their need.
Jacob sends his sons down to Egypt. Commentators read that direction as part of the lesson.
The famine reaches Jacob's land. God makes him and his sons feel the distress of famine until they hear that Egypt has plenty of food available for sale. So Jacob orders his sons to take a trip there to buy food (v. 2). Joseph's ten brothers then "went down" (v. 3), showing that God must humble Israel before He gives His blessing.
Joseph was already feeding the nations. His own family needed him too — but first the broken link between them had to be mended.
He was now highly exalted among the Gentiles and acting as saviour of the world, but his brothers needed his bounty as much as anyone else. But by their own wicked actions they had shattered all the links that once bound them to him. Only severe dealings could rightly restore those links — dealings very painful in nature, yet suited to work real repentance in them. The terrible famine, whatever else it might do, was designed to play a part in bringing about that desirable end. Jacob sent all his sons except Benjamin to buy grain in Egypt, and as a result we begin to see Joseph's dreams fulfilled.
Commentators see the same pattern ahead for the Jewish people: crushing need, then one rescuer.
All this speaks plainly of things to come. A time is coming fast: "the hour of trial that is coming on the whole world, to try those who dwell on the earth" (Rev. 3:10). For the Jew it will be the time of "great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world" (Matt. 24:21). "Alas!" says the prophet Jeremiah, "that day is so great there is none like it; it is a time of distress for Jacob" (Jer. 30:7). And in that day of trial like no other, the one resource will be the exalted Christ. In the days of His humiliation, Jew and Gentile rejected Him and crucified Him.
- Famine sent. God uses want for His own purposes; the pinch of hunger reached Jacob's house on purpose.
- Famine exposes. Brothers staring at one another learn there is no help in each other — help must come from outside.
- Famine directs. Hearing that grain exists saves nobody. Only the deliverer can deliver.
- Famine humbles. They must go down — God humbles Israel before He blesses.
- Famine restores. Severe dealings mend the links they shattered — painful work that produces real repentance.
And he said, Behold, I have heard that there is grain in Egypt; go down thither and buy [grain] for us from thence, in order that we may live, and not die.
Famine has emptied Canaan, so Jacob tells his sons to go and buy grain in Egypt. Neither he nor they know that the man who sells the grain is the brother they sold, or that hunger is God's tool to bring them to him.
The shortage is not an accident of weather. One commentator sees hardship as a tool God uses for His own purposes:
How often God is pleased to use hardship for His own purposes and in His own ways for the good of all, both saints and sinners! So it is here. The pinch of want fell on Jacob and his sons, "for the famine was in the land of Canaan."
Another writer notes that people turn to God when they have no other help left — and God does not refuse them:
The scene of God's aim is set in a season of need and sorrow, as is common in the ways of the God of all grace. For He does not refuse to be sought by us when we have no help for it... For twenty long years Joseph's brothers had lived easy and prosperous lives. They had goods stored up and blessings all around them. Joseph and his sorrows had all been forgotten... But famine touches "the far country" and "the land of Canaan." Then, whether they want to or not, they must seek the father's house and Joseph's stores.
Jacob's opening question exposes a family with nothing to offer one another:
Under the stress of famine Jacob has to say to his sons, "Why do you look at one another?" They are in a desperate plight. This much they realise: there is no help in one another. If help is to come it must be from someone outside themselves.
News of grain in Egypt told them where life was. They still had to go and get it:
They heard that there was grain in Egypt. They heard that there was deliverance to be had if only they could get it, and they were perishing. They heard there was salvation. They felt their need, and felt they would like to be saved. But they could not get salvation without going to the saviour. They could not get deliverance apart from the deliverer. They could not get food in their hunger except from Joseph.
The direction of the trip carries its own lesson:
The famine reaches Jacob's land. God makes him and his sons feel the distress of famine until they hear that Egypt has plenty of food available for sale. So Jacob orders his sons to take a trip there to buy food (v. 2). Joseph's ten brothers then "went down" (v. 3), showing that Israel must be humbled before God will bless them.
Both the nations and the family end up at the same door:
During the days of plenty the world paid little attention to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they were completely indifferent to him. But when the shortage set in, need is awakened... and Jacob and his sons are faced with starvation and death (Gen. 42:1-2). The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected.
They go for food. They get something harder and better:
God produced grief of heart and exercises of conscience, and in a most wonderful way. Years rolled on, and these brothers might have wrongly imagined that all was right. But then — seven years of plenty, and seven years of scarcity! What did they mean? Who sent them? And what were they designed for? Admirable providence! Unsearchable wisdom! The famine reaches Canaan. The calls of hunger bring the guilty brothers right to the feet of the injured Joseph!
Kelly reads the scene as a preview of what the Lord will yet do with His people:
Ten of the brothers come down to buy grain in Egypt, and there God works wonderfully through Joseph... It is exactly what the Lord from a better glory will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside, in a new position they never expected; they do not know Him. But He too will cause the pinch of famine to press on them. He too will work in their hearts as a result, so that in due time He may righteously make Himself known to them.
- Famine — God uses the shortage for the good of saints and sinners alike. It reaches the very family that had forgotten Joseph.
- Helplessness — "Why do you look at one another?" There is no help inside the family. It must come from outside.
- Hearing — news of grain saves nobody. There is no deliverance apart from the deliverer, so they must go to him.
- Descent — they "went down," because Israel must be humbled before God blesses them.
- Discovery — hunger sets them at the feet of the brother they wronged. There God deals with their hunger and their conscience alike — a pattern of what He will yet do with His people.
And Joseph's ten brethren went down to buy [grain] out of Egypt.
Famine spreads beyond Egypt, and Jacob's household runs out of food. Ten of his sons set out for the one place with grain, not knowing that the man in charge of it is the brother they sold.
While there was plenty, Joseph's family showed no interest in him. One writer marks what changed when the food ran out.
During the days of plenty the world paid little heed to Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they were wholly indifferent to him. When the shortage set in, however, need woke up. "The land of Egypt was famished" (v. 55), and Jacob and his sons faced starvation and death (Gen. 42:1-2). The need calls forth a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the one they once scorned and rejected.
Before the ten move, their father asks why they stand looking at each other. The question exposes how useless they are to each other.
Under the stress of famine Jacob has to say to his sons, "Why do you look one upon another?" They are in desperate plight, and this much they realise, there is no help in one another. If help is to come it must be from one outside themselves. So the ten brethren come to Egypt and present themselves before Joseph.
The verse does not say they travelled; it says they went down. One commentator reads that direction as part of the lesson.
The famine reaches to Jacob's land. God makes him and his sons feel the distress of famine, until they hear that Egypt has plenty of food for sale. So Jacob orders his sons to take a trip there to buy food (v. 2). Joseph's ten brothers then "went down" (v. 3). This shows that Israel must be humbled to receive blessing from God.
They want grain, not Joseph. But only one man can hand out that grain, and he is the brother they got rid of.
They heard that there was grain in Egypt. They heard that there was deliverance to be had if they could only get it, and they were perishing. They heard there was salvation. They felt their need, and felt they would like to be saved, but they could not get salvation without going to the saviour. They could not get deliverance apart from the deliverer. They could not get food in their hunger except from Joseph — the despised one, the one they had hated, the one they had cast out and sold. But God had raised him up to have every resource in his power, everything that could meet their need.
Their errand is to buy. Money in hand is the wrong approach to a brother whose heart is full of love toward them.
They have indeed come to the right person, but they have come with a wrong plan and with a wrong plea. Their plan is to buy, and their plea, "We are honest men" (v. 11). As yet they know neither the love of Joseph's heart, nor the evil of their own hearts. They must learn that Joseph is too rich to sell to his own, and that they have nothing in themselves to plead. Their money will not buy grain, and they have no merit by which to claim it… Love is a giver when worthlessness has nothing to plead.
Benjamin stays home, kept back by a father still carrying an unhealed wound. Yet the gap in the party does not slow God down.
Our chapter opens with the perplexity of the sons, and their father's proposal that they should go down into Egypt for supplies. Only Benjamin must not go, in case harm came to him as it did to his brother Joseph. That burden, though unspoken, always weighed on his heart. How little he could foresee that before long Benjamin must go too! But God was working out His good and holy design, slowly but surely. Man's will or intelligence had nothing to do with bringing it all to pass according to His word.
Joseph is now able to give them everything they need. One writer explains why he does not simply hand it over.
He was now highly exalted among the Gentiles and acting as saviour of the world, but his brothers needed his bounty as much as others. They had, however, by their own wicked actions, shattered all the links that once bound them to him. Those links could not be rightly restored except by severe dealings — dealings very painful, yet designed to work in them a real repentance. The terrible famine, whatever else it might do, was designed to play a part in bringing about that desirable end.
One writer traces where this road ends.
His brothers had once rejected him, when he was one of them. Now famine forces them to come. The path of repentance and humiliation brings them at last to own him in glory.
- Famine starts it. Plenty left them indifferent to Joseph. Hunger turns their faces toward him.
- Down, not across. The words "went down" mark the journey as a humbling. God humbles Israel before He blesses them.
- Outside themselves. There is no deliverance apart from the deliverer, and he is the brother they cast out.
- Buying fails. They arrive with money and a claim to be honest men. They must learn that the one they wronged is too rich to sell to his own.
- Repentance, then reunion. Ten brothers, a father's fear, a Benjamin kept at home — and behind it all God, working toward the day they own their rejected brother in glory.
But Benjamin, Joseph's brother, Jacob sent not with his brethren; for he said, Lest mischief may befall him.
Famine has reached Canaan, and Jacob sends his sons to Egypt for grain — but he keeps one of them at home. Jacob acted out of fear. That one choice shapes everything that follows, and the picture inside it.
The reason Jacob holds Benjamin back is not hard to find. He had already lost one son on a journey, and Benjamin was all he had left of the same mother.
Benjamin does not go with them, because Jacob feared for his safety. No doubt he felt this all the more because he had lost Joseph earlier, and Benjamin was the only son of Rachel left to him.
Jacob never says why he is afraid. The commentary notices that the old wound is doing the deciding, and that Jacob's caution had no power to alter what God was quietly bringing about.
Only Benjamin must not go, in case harm came to him as it had to his brother Joseph. That burden was never spoken, but it always weighed on Jacob's heart. How little he could foresee that before long Benjamin must go too! But God was working out His good and holy design — surely, even if slowly. Man's will and man's cleverness had nothing to do with bringing it all about according to His word.
The journey itself was not merely a food run. Commentators read the famine as part of a deliberate work on the ten men who had wronged their brother.
He was now raised high among the Gentiles and acting as saviour of the world. But his brothers needed his generous supply as much as anyone else. But by their own wicked actions they had shattered all the links that once bound them to him. Only severe dealings could restore those links properly. Those dealings were very painful, yet they were meant to work real repentance in them. The terrible famine, whatever else it might do, was meant to play a part in bringing about that desirable end.
The famine forces the family toward the one person they had tried to erase. Everything they need is now in his hands.
During the days of plenty the world took little notice of Joseph. Of his brothers we hear nothing; they had no interest in him at all. But when the shortage set in, need woke up. The need calls out a cry for bread. The Gentiles have to learn it, and his brothers discover it: no one can meet that need except the one they once scorned and rejected. The man they once rejected is now raised high, and he is the only supply — for the Gentile nations and for Jacob and his sons alike.
Benjamin's name means "son of the right hand." Writers see in him a second picture of Christ, set beside Joseph's. Joseph shows the suffering; Benjamin shows the power.
Benjamin himself, the son of his father's right hand, is a picture of Christ. He does not stand for Christ as head of the church. He stands for Him as the conquering Son of might, when God sets up the kingdom in the land, and indeed over the earth, and the enemies perish before Him. This looks on to the future day of power and glory for the earth. It stands in clear contrast with Him who suffered and now sits hidden in the heavens.
Benjamin's absence from the journey fits that picture. As the brothers set out, they have neither side of Christ in view.
Joseph's brothers had rejected him, a picture of Israel's rejection of the Lord Jesus. So Joseph is a picture of Christ suffering before He is raised high. Benjamin ("son of the right hand") is a picture of Christ the Messiah reigning in glory. When Israel is awakened again by their need, they will not recognise Christ as the rejected Sufferer. Even thoughts of a glorious Messiah will lie almost asleep in their minds.
- The fear — Jacob keeps Benjamin home. He has already lost Rachel's other son, and Benjamin is all he has left of her.
- The famine — the shortage is not random. It is painful pressure, meant to work real repentance and restore what the brothers had shattered.
- The rejected one — the only bread is in the hands of the brother they scorned and rejected. Need drives them straight to him.
- The one held back — Benjamin, "son of the right hand," pictures Christ reigning in power; Joseph pictures Christ suffering. On this journey the brothers see neither.
- The design — Jacob's caution delays nothing. Benjamin will go, because God's purpose moves forward whether or not a man can see it.
So the sons of Israel came to buy [grain] among those that came; for the famine was in the land of Canaan.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And Joseph, he was the governor over the land -- he it was that sold [the corn] to all the people of the land. And Joseph's brethren came and bowed down to him, the face to the earth.
Years earlier, ten brothers threw a dreamer into a pit and sold him. Now hunger drives them to Egypt to buy grain. The man who hands it out is the brother they got rid of. They bow low in front of him without knowing who he is. Commentators read that moment as the answer to Joseph's dreams, and as a picture of something still to come.
Years before this, Joseph told his brothers a dream. This verse is where it comes true.
Joseph probably did not understand that God meant the dream as a prophecy. His brothers would one day bow to his authority, and Genesis 42:6 tells us they did. Of course, the most vital lesson here is that all Israel will yet bow to the Lord Jesus, whom they have despised and hated. At the time, Joseph's brothers thought it ridiculous that he would ever rule over them.
The years of plenty did not move these men toward Joseph. Hunger did.
During the days of plenty the world paid little heed to Joseph. We hear nothing of his brothers; they took no interest in him at all. But when the shortage came, need woke them up. "The land of Egypt was famished," and Jacob and his sons faced starvation and death. The need makes them cry out for bread. The Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that only one man can meet it — the one they once scorned and rejected. The Gentiles must "go to Joseph." The once rejected but now exalted man is alone the resource for Gentile nations as well as for Jacob and his sons.
The men who once opposed Joseph now lie face down in front of him. That posture is the point for the reader.
What is the first thing these men do — the men who had opposed him so many years before? They bow down. The moment of real blessing in your soul is when you first bow down to Christ. I do not mean an outward bow. I mean a bowing to the blessed Lord inside your soul.
Only one side of this meeting knows what is going on. To the brothers, Joseph is the son who no longer exists.
Joseph was the governor, and the brothers bowed down before him with their faces to the earth. They did not know him, though he recognised them. He began at once to deal with them in a way that would test them and stir their consciences. He accused them of being spies, and so drew out the family details he wanted. These included mention of Benjamin and of himself — for he was the one who "is not." How wrong they were! They were soon to discover that Joseph "IS," and that their very lives are in his hand. The careless world today acts as though Christ is not. They have yet to learn that He is the Master of their lives, for He is the great "I AM."
This meeting is more than a family coincidence. God is settling an old wrong with the very people He had chosen.
The righteous Jehovah loves righteousness. He had a case against those brothers of Joseph. They had wronged their faithful brother, and they had never judged their cruel envy and evil deeds. He dealt with them for this very reason: they were His chosen family for His plans on earth, as no other family could claim to be. So if they had sunk below plain fairness, God knew what to do. With wonderful patience and wisdom He would reach their conscience, show that faithfulness was right, correct self-will, and cleanse them from a defiled state. This first meeting of the ten brothers with Joseph mattered in God's moral government. He had lifted up His wronged and mistreated servant. Now He was about to break down the hard-hearted, and to clear their hearts of the old wrongdoing that contradicted their standing as people who bore His name.
The bow in Egypt was real, but it was only a partial fulfilment.
There was a symbolic fulfilment when his brothers honoured him in Egypt. Their sheaves bowed to his. And they still honoured him after they knew who he was. But this did not meet the full meaning of Joseph's prophetic dreams. The sheaves of Israel are to bow to the Messiah. But the second dream shows more: the sun, the moon and the eleven stars bow as well. That means every established authority in the world, Gentile or Jewish, bowing to Christ in the person of His representative.
- Dream — The brothers mocked the dream as impossible. Here it comes true: they bow to the one they sold.
- Famine — Plenty left them cold. Only hunger drove them to the brother they rejected, and he alone had bread for Gentiles and family alike.
- Bowing — The outward bow pictures the inward one; blessing begins in the soul that bows to Christ.
- Blindness — He knew them, but they counted him as gone for good. The world makes the same mistake, living as if Christ is not.
- Beyond — This bow answers the first dream. The second still waits, when every authority in heaven and earth bends to Christ.
And Joseph saw his brethren, and knew them; but he made himself strange to them, and spoke roughly to them, and said to them, Whence come ye? And they said, From the land of Canaan, to buy food.
Joseph now rules Egypt, and the ten men bowing before him are the brothers who sold him. He knows them at once, yet he hides it and speaks like a hostile official — why would a man who loved them begin this way?
The roughness was deliberate. Joseph had a longer purpose than feeding them for one season:
Joseph had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. The method he had to take might look strange to them for a while. But love and wisdom directed it all from beginning to end. To bless them with real blessing, as he intended, he must lead them to repentance. He once came to them, and they said, "Here comes this dreamer"; now they come to him, and he says, "You are spies." By this he calls their sin to mind. It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work; it was his act, but it was his strange act... For all this may have been the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart. Secretly, though they did not know it, he entered into the very sorrows he was causing.
A ruler had every right to question foreigners during a famine. His tone said nothing about what he felt.
It is no wonder that a man in his position "made himself strange to them and spoke roughly with them." It was not in the least through pride or lack of affection. ... He had every right to test them, and his conduct proved both his good sense and his goodwill. They badly needed the moral probe.
("Made himself strange" is the older wording. The ESV says "he treated them like strangers.")
Joseph wanted his brothers at ease in his presence. Only one road leads there.
Love will set itself to work to win their hearts. It will set them at perfect ease in the presence of the one against whom they had so greatly sinned... There is only one way for the heart to be at perfect ease with the one it has offended. All must be brought to light and fully confessed. The sleeping conscience must be aroused, the sins recalled, and the sins confessed. It is only through the conscience that the heart can be reached and set at ease. Moved by love, Joseph set himself to reach their consciences.
Joseph gave them a taste of what they had caused him, and memory did the rest.
They had been the original cause of his imprisonment. They must be imprisoned. Then the memory of their brother came home with power. Joseph did not speak of it. No one in Egypt knew of it. But there was a witness inside their own hearts. It may have been asleep for a time, but it could not stay silent forever. It now woke up, and each one saw his look of anguish again as clearly as ever: "We saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen." Memory does not die, though it may sleep for a while.
One writer turns this scene into an uncomfortable question about Christ:
His brothers did not know Joseph, but he knew them. He spoke roughly to them. They thought he was a hard man. Do you think Christ is a harsh man? He will tell you what you are. He will tell you that you are a sinner, full of hostility toward God, and that there is no good thing in you. People do not like that. They do not like being shown what is in their hearts.
The rough treatment had an end point. It lasted only until the work on their consciences was done:
Up to now Joseph has made himself strange, spoken roughly, and dealt harshly with his brothers. There was conscience work to do and repentance to bring about. But love's strange work is now finished, and Joseph can no longer hold back from making himself known. Having exposed the guilt of their hearts, he must make known the love of his heart.
One writer sees the same dealings still ahead for a future generation in Israel:
For the Jewish remnant, things will be different. The true Joseph will have to "make himself strange" and to "speak roughly" to them until there is true repentance. He will take great care with them. He will speak to their heart until the valley of Achor — the place of trouble and repentance — becomes a door of hope to them.
- Strange first. Joseph hid himself before he revealed himself; the coldness was a stage, not a verdict.
- Love's strange work. The rough voice was the way of his hand, not the way of his heart — he shared in the sorrow he was causing.
- Through the conscience. Buried sin had to come to light before they could be at ease with him. The conscience is the road to the heart.
- Memory wakes. He never named their crime. Their old guilt surfaced on its own under pressure.
- Then known. Once their guilt was in the open, Joseph could show his love. Writers see the same order still ahead for Israel.
And Joseph knew his brethren, but they did not know him.
Joseph now rules Egypt and hands out grain to a starving world. Ten men from Canaan bow at his feet — the brothers who sold him. He knows them at once. They see only an Egyptian ruler. That gap shapes everything that follows.
Joseph's recognition was more than seeing familiar faces. One writer notes how fast love picks out its own in a crowd of strangers:
Moreover, love is quick to discern. Need drove crowds from the surrounding nations to the feet of Joseph. But the moment these ten men appear before him, love discerns that they are his brothers. For twenty years he had not seen them. Yet with love's quick perception he sees in those ten needy men the brothers from whom he had so long been parted. And love "knew them." Love knew their past history and the present need that brought them to his feet.
Everything about Joseph had changed, while they had stayed the same:
Joseph was governor over the land, in charge of the vast stores of grain against the foretold years of famine, now beginning. He saw his brothers, and knew them. The change in him must have seemed beyond measure in their eyes. He had been a mere growing youth in their own lowly setting. Now he was prime minister, and a great deal more, in the greatest kingdom of that day. They, grown men, remained much the same for his observant glance.
Joseph could have ended the suspense in one sentence. He chose not to, and one writer explains why:
Joseph, however, had something more to do for them than simply to supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing... To bless them with real blessing, as he purposed, he must lead them to repentance. He had once come to them, and they had said, "Here comes this dreamer." They now come to him, and he says, "you are spies, you are spies." He makes himself a stranger, and speaks roughly to them, and by this he calls their sin to remembrance... But he hides himself while all this is going on. He speaks to them by an interpreter. It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work.
The aim was not punishment but a cleared past, so that affection could finally move freely between them:
All must be brought to light and fully confessed. The slumbering conscience must be aroused, the sins recalled, and the sins confessed. It is only through the conscience that the heart can be reached and set at ease.
The harsh questioning took effect at once:
The way Joseph takes to wake up the consciences of his brothers is very interesting. The effect of his rough words was electric. "They said to one another, In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen. That is why this distress has come upon us." Their consciences were reached, and it is a good thing when the conscience gets reached. God's avenue to the heart is ever by the conscience.
They spoke of Joseph as the one who no longer existed — while standing in front of him. One writer turns that irony on the reader:
They did not know him, though he recognized them. He began at once to deal with them in a way that would test them and arouse their consciences. Accusing them of being spies, he drew out from them the family details he wanted. These included mention of Benjamin and of himself — for he was the one who "is not." How mistaken they were in this! They were soon to discover that Joseph "IS," and that their very lives are in his hand. The careless world today acts as though Christ is not. They have yet to learn that He is the Master of their lives, for He is the great "I AM."
Writers see here a picture of Christ and Israel today. He knows them; they do not yet know Him:
But ten of the brothers come down to buy grain in Egypt; and there it is that God works marvellously by Joseph. He recognizes his brothers. His heart is towards them when they are altogether ignorant who he was that enjoyed the glory of Egypt... This is exactly what the Lord, from a better glory, will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside in a new position quite unlooked for by them: they know Him not. But He too will cause the pinch of famine to press upon them. He too will work in their hearts in consequence, that He may be made righteously known to them in due time.
- Known — Love recognized them first. It took in their whole history and their hunger before they said a word.
- Unknown — They missed him. Glory had changed him beyond measure, while they stayed just as they were.
- Hidden — He hid who he was on purpose. He meant to prepare them for blessing, not just hand them grain.
- Conscience — The rough words were the route to the heart, and they worked: "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother."
- Revealed — The brother they counted as gone stood over them. One day Christ will make Himself known to those who do not yet know Him.
And Joseph remembered the dreams that he had dreamt of them; and he said to them, Ye are spies to see the exposed places of the land ye are come.
Joseph now governs Egypt, and the ten brothers who sold him are bowing at his feet without knowing him. His old dreams come back to mind — and instead of telling them who he is, he calls them spies.
Joseph could have made his dreams come true that day with a single word. He aimed at something else.
Strange, and yet beautiful and excellent! His dreams had merely exalted him above them. If, when he remembered them, he had only wanted to make those dreams come true, he could have revealed himself at once. As the favoured sheaf in the field, or as the ruling sun in the heavens, he could have had them on their faces before him. But instead of exalting himself, restoring their souls becomes his purpose straight away... He remembered his dreams — dreams that exalted him, and nothing else. Yet he turns at once to the defiled feet, the guilty hearts, the unclean consciences of his brothers, so that he might heal and wash and restore them.
The charge was untrue, and Joseph knew it. He had a reason for making it.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. This was not accurate. Joseph was seeking to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They insist that they are honest men, the sons of one man (v. 11). They must later be brought to confess that they have not been honest.
Speaking roughly to men he loved cost Joseph something.
The conscience must be faithfully dealt with, if anything is to be done. And Joseph aims at it at once. He makes himself strange to them. He speaks to them through an interpreter, and he speaks roughly. He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him personally. His love, for now, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness is still ahead. It will be satisfied later; now it must serve.
Silence about their evil would have been the unkind choice.
He said they had come "to see the nakedness" — the exposed parts — "of the land." You would not expect an apostle or a spiritual Christian to take such a line. But it suited the governor of Egypt, godly man though he was, whose brothers had never fully faced their persecution of one who had given them no just cause of offence. It is not love to be indifferent to flagrant evil, even in a brother. Faithful are the wounds of a friend. In remembering his dreams Joseph had God before him. He sought the good of his brothers, who as yet remembered nothing as they should.
Joseph wanted more for his brothers than food. And his words to them now echo their old words about him.
Joseph had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing... To bless them with real blessing, as he intended, he must lead them to repentance. He orders his behaviour toward them now with that purpose. He had once come to them, and they had said, "Here comes this dreamer." Now they come to him, and he says, "You are spies, you are spies." By this he calls their sin to mind.
The charge pulled an answer out of them at once.
Joseph knew the secrets of their hearts. He knew them, but they did not know him... What did they say? "We are honest men. Your servants have never been spies." Listen. "We are honest men." Well, you say, if that is not a lie! Yes, it is. Oh, my friend, you can put on any face you like with me or with your neighbour, but you cannot put on a face with God. He knows you.
The story points ahead to another brother, exalted and unrecognised by his own.
He recognizes his brothers. His heart is towards them when they have no idea who it is that enjoys the glory of Egypt. So Joseph carries out a most solemn searching of the heart and conscience of his brothers. It is exactly what the Lord, from a better glory, will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside, in a new position they never expected; they do not know Him. But He too will let the pinch of famine press on them. He too will work in their hearts as a result, so that in due time He may be made known to them righteously.
- Remembered. The dreams came back when Joseph could have used them for himself. He used them for his brothers instead.
- Refused. He would not settle for their faces in the dust. Restoring their souls mattered more than proving he had been right.
- Roughness. The false charge of spying was love being firm. It aimed at consciences that still remembered nothing.
- Reversal. "Here comes this dreamer" is answered by "You are spies"; their own words come back to call their sin to mind.
- Repentance. Joseph prepares not just a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. Christ will one day deal the same way with His own people.
And they said to him, No, my lord; but to buy food are thy servants come.
Joseph's brothers stand before the governor of Egypt, accused of spying. They deny it politely, call themselves his servants, and say they have only come to buy food. They do not know they are speaking to the brother they rejected. Their defence of themselves will not survive what follows.
Joseph's accusation was not true, and he knew it. Commentators see it as deliberate pressure on the conscience, not a mistake to clear up.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. Though this was not accurate, Joseph was seeking to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man (v. 11). Later they would have to confess that they have not been true.
The harsh manner covered a settled purpose of good toward them.
Joseph had no thought of vengeance; nor would he invoke or trust the process of law. With grace in his heart, he does not spare useful lessons for the conscience of the guilty. So he speaks as the governor of Egypt that he really was, and acts like a stranger to them for one reason only — their real good.
Their answer is honest about their plan: they have come to buy. That word is the problem. They have found the one man who can feed them, but they approach him as customers.
The brothers protest that it is their need that brings them into Egypt. "We have come to buy food" (v. 10). They have indeed come to the right person, but they have come with a wrong plan and with a wrong plea. Their plan is to buy, and their plea, "We are true men" (v. 11). As yet they know neither the love of Joseph's heart, nor the evil of their own hearts. They must learn that Joseph is too rich to sell to his own, and that they have nothing in themselves to plead. Their money will not buy corn, and they have no merit that would let them claim it.
The same writer sums it up: "Love is a giver when worthlessness has nothing to plead."
Their next words defend their character. Standing in front of the brother they rejected, they call themselves honest men.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be settled right down to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all one man's sons; we are true men." They stood in front of the man they had rejected and, in effect, killed. And they could still talk about being true men. What a picture of this world! Men can reject Christ, and then pretend to keep the law.
The claim is made to the one person who knows everything about them.
Joseph knew the secrets of their hearts. He knew them, but they did not know him. "True men," indeed! That is their verdict about themselves. What do you think of their hatred and hypocrisy? True men they were not, and they had to learn it. You too will have to face up to your sin before God, my friend.
Without realising it, they call him lord and themselves his servants. Joseph's dreams are starting to come true.
Jacob sent all his brothers except Benjamin to buy corn in Egypt, and as a result we begin to see the fulfilment of Joseph's dreams. Joseph was the governor, and the brothers bowed down before him with their faces to the earth. They did not know him, though he recognised them.
The plea of verse 10 is not the last word. Joseph keeps testing until they drop the defence. The same words — "your servants" — come back in a different spirit.
No longer do they justify themselves. They exclaim, "What shall we say to my lord? What shall we speak? Or how can we clear ourselves? God has found out the guilt of your servants; behold, we are my lord's servants!" They no longer try to justify themselves about the present. They do not try to clear themselves about the past. They are convicted sinners "found out" by God.
- Need — Hunger brought them to the right man; need alone does not make the approach right.
- Plan — They came to buy, and he is too rich to sell to his own; their money will not buy the corn.
- Plea — "We are true men" is the plea of merit, spoken by men whose guilt the governor knows better than they do.
- Probe — The false charge of spying and the rough voice are grace at work, aimed at a conscience asleep over an old wrong.
- Place — They end with the same words, but a changed heart: "we are my lord's servants." The self-defence is gone, and God has found them out.
We are all one man's sons; we are honest thy servants are not spies.
Ten brothers stand before the governor of Egypt, accused of spying. They answer by calling themselves honest men — not knowing that the man testing them is the brother they sold. (Older translations read "true men" where the ESV has "honest men.")
Their answer did more than deny the charge. It described who they were — to the one man alive who knew what they had done.
Listen. "We are true men." Well, you say, surely that is a lie. Yes, it is. Oh, my friend, you can put on whatever face you like with me or with your neighbour, but you cannot put on a face with God. He knows you. "True men," indeed! That is their verdict about themselves. What do you think of their hatred and hypocrisy? True men they were not, and they had to learn it. You too will have to face your sin before God, my friend.
The same instinct runs wider than one family in a famine.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be got to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all one man's sons; we are true men." They stood in front of the one they had rejected and, in effect, killed. Yet they could talk of being true men. What a picture of this world! — men can reject Christ, and then can pretend to keep the law.
They came with two things: money to buy, and a character to claim. Both had to go.
The brothers protest that it is their need that brings them into Egypt. "We have come to buy food" (v. 10). They have indeed come to the right person, but they have come with a wrong plan and with a wrong plea. Their plan is to buy, and their plea, "We are true men" (v. 11). As yet they know neither the love of Joseph's heart, nor the evil of their own hearts. They must learn that Joseph is too rich to sell to his own, and that they have nothing in themselves to plead... They must learn that Joseph is ready to give every blessing. But he is one on whom they have forfeited every claim. Love is a giver when worthlessness has nothing to plead. If they think they are true men, then Joseph will put them to the test.
Joseph's charge was not true. He used it to reach something in their past.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. Though this was not accurate, yet Joseph was trying to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man (v. 11). Later they must come to confess that they have not been true.
Nothing in Joseph's harshness came from wanting to get even. His hard treatment had one aim.
Joseph had no thought of vengeance... He makes himself a stranger to them for no other purpose than their real good. If God worked by the pressure, then the man who had His mind would lead them. His words and ways troubled them, to wake their long-sleeping conscience, so that they too might fear God as he did. It is just so in principle that grace has worked with every one of us who has been truly brought to God. Feelings cannot be trusted, unless the conscience also cries out to God in a true sense of our own ruin and deep distress.
Later they are accused of stealing a cup. This time they really are innocent, and they do not argue it.
They had been called spies when they were honest men. Now they were treated as common thieves, though again they were honest. They might have said this was too bad... But no — nothing of this — these were not the brothers Joseph had known. They had once hidden their guilt under the lie which they sent to their father; now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
- Claim. They called themselves honest men in front of the brother they had wronged. It was their own verdict — and they would take it back.
- Charge. The spying charge was not true. It was pressure, meant to wake a conscience that had slept for years.
- Plea. They came with a wrong plan and a wrong plea: money to buy, and merit to claim. They had forfeited every claim.
- Purpose. Joseph had no thought of revenge. He made himself a stranger only for their real good — feelings cannot be trusted until the conscience also cries out to God.
- Change. By the end they stop defending themselves even when innocent — the true man is the one who has given up saying he is one.
And he said to them, No; but to see the exposed places of the land are ye come.
Joseph stands before ten brothers who sold him, and they do not know him. They have just denied the charge of spying, and he repeats it. Why would a man with no wish for revenge press a charge he knew was false?
Joseph knew his brothers were not spies. The accusation was a tool, not a verdict.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. Though this was not accurate, Joseph was seeking to stir up concern in their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man (v. 11). They must later be brought to confess that they have not been true.
The brothers had answered his first charge with a claim about themselves. Joseph will not accept it.
They have indeed come to the right person, but they have come with a wrong plan and with a wrong plea. Their plan is to buy, and their plea is, "We are true men" (v. 11). So far they know neither the love of Joseph's heart nor the evil of their own hearts... Love is a giver when worthlessness has nothing to plead. The love of Joseph's heart will shut out all mere bartering. The evil of their hearts shuts out every plea of merit. If they think they are true men, then Joseph will put them to the test.
Their claim to be honest men carries a sting. One writer turns it into a picture of the whole world.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be probed to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." Now notice their defence — "We are all one man's sons; we are true men." They stood in front of the one they had rejected and, in effect, killed. Yet they could still talk about being true men. What a picture of this world! Men can reject Christ, and then pretend to keep the law.
One writer ties the harsh words to Joseph's memory of his dreams, and calls them faithfulness, not cruelty.
Verse 9 points to another element. Joseph remembered the dreams he had dreamed about them, and told them they were spies who had come to see the nakedness — the exposed parts — of the land. The reality of God's interest in those who honour Him was plain before him, and so was the humbling of those who slight Him by their unbelief. You might not expect such a measure or manner from an apostle or a spiritual Christian. But it suited the governor of Egypt. He was a godly man, and the brother of men who had never fully faced up to their persecution of one who had given them no real cause for offence. It is not love to be indifferent to obvious evil, even in a brother. Faithful are the wounds of a friend. In remembering his dreams Joseph had God before him, and sought the good of his brothers, who as yet remembered nothing as they should.
The hardness is on the surface only. One writer describes a man hiding his love to do his brothers lasting good.
Joseph, however, had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but prepare them for a blessing... He had once come to them, and they had said, "Here comes this dreamer"; now they come to him, and he says, "You are spies, you are spies."... It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work; he was doing his own act, but it was a strange act. He arranges the circumstances so that sorrow may produce repentance, but he does not yet reveal himself. All this may be the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart. In secret, though they never knew it, he entered into the very sorrows he was causing.
One writer turns the rough treatment into a question for every reader.
Joseph's brothers were waking up, as they say, "What is this that God has done to us?" God was putting His finger on their consciences. When they get back to their father, they say, "The man, the lord of the land, spoke roughly to us and took us to be spies of the country" (Gen. 42:30). My friend, if you could interpret God's ways, you would find them to be all love. You think He is rough. No, no — He loves you with all His heart, and He has given His Son for sinners like you and me.
- False charge. Joseph knew they were not spies. He aimed the charge at an old sin, not a new one.
- Refused plea. By repeating the charge he blocks their plea of being true men — the one claim they must give up.
- Hidden love. The rough voice is love's strange work; in secret he shared the sorrow he was causing.
- Real goal. He wanted more than to fill their sacks. He was getting the brothers ready for a blessing, not just getting a blessing ready.
- Same pattern. Read from inside, God's dealings feel rough; read to the end, they are all love.
And they said, Thy servants were twelve brethren, sons of one man, in the land of Canaan; and behold, the youngest is this day with our father, and one is not.
Ten men stand before the governor of Egypt, accused of spying. To clear themselves they sketch their family — twelve brothers, one father, the youngest at home, and one missing. The words they choose for the missing brother are the words that expose them. (The commentators quote an older translation. It has "one is not" where the ESV reads "one is no longer alive," and "true men" in verse 11 where the ESV reads "honest men.")
Their reply is true about the family and blind about the man in front of them. Everything they report, he already knows.
When Joseph keeps questioning them, they tell him their father had twelve sons. One of them is still at home, and the other, they say, "is not." How little they suspected that the governor knew better than that!
The phrase is short and vague. It hides a crime, and they say it in front of the one they are hiding it from.
Murder will out. "And one is not." That is their way of talking about getting rid of their brother. They stood in his presence and did not know it.
Two verses earlier they had insisted they were honest men. Here, in the same breath, they admit a brother is missing — and no one knew better than they did why.
The brothers have condemned themselves out of their own mouths. They have claimed to be true men. In the same breath they say, "one is not." They know full well that if Joseph has passed out of their lives, their own wickedness is the whole reason. They stand in the presence of the one they had rejected with unrepentant hearts, and yet protest they are honest men.
Another writer watches Joseph press harder, and hears the brothers' defence echoed far beyond Egypt.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be got to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all one man's sons; we are true men." What a picture of this world! Men can reject Christ, and then pretend to keep the law. They say they are twelve brothers; the youngest is with their father; and then, meaning Joseph himself, they say, "And one is not." The cord is pulled a little tighter.
Their throwaway phrase names the one person they cannot do without.
Also Joseph's brothers must learn that all their blessing depends on the man of whom they say "one is not" (verse 13). They say, in effect, "We have not seen him for twenty years. He has passed completely out of our lives. As far as we are concerned, 'He is not.'" So too, in a day to come, the Jewish people will have to learn that all their blessing depends on One whom they have set at nothing. "This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:11-12).
The harsh questioning is not payback. Grace is behind it, and grace will not leave a buried sin buried.
Joseph had no thought of revenge, nor would he call on the law or trust it. With grace in his heart, he does not spare lessons that will profit the conscience of the guilty. So he speaks like the governor of Egypt that he really was. He makes himself a stranger to them for one reason only: their real good.
By naming the youngest brother still at home, they hand Joseph his test.
In all this it is plain how everything turns on Benjamin and their state towards him. This becomes the test of their condition. But the power to deliver them lies in Joseph's hands alone. Everything they go through over Benjamin works to awaken their conscience and heart about their sin against Joseph.
- Claim. In one breath they claim to be honest men and admit a brother is gone. The defence is the confession.
- Concealment. "One is not" is their settled way of speaking about a crime — but murder will out.
- Dependence. The brother they had written off is the one on whom every blessing they need now depends.
- Pressure. The rough words are not revenge but grace at work, making itself strange to them for their real good.
- Test. Naming Benjamin sets up the test that will reach their conscience. All power to deliver stays with Joseph alone.
And Joseph said to them, That is it that I have spoken to you, saying, Ye are spies.
Joseph's brothers have just answered his accusation with a family history: twelve brothers, one at home, one gone. The governor of Egypt does not accept it. He repeats his charge word for word. Why would a man with no bitterness press a false accusation on brothers he loves?
Joseph does not let his brothers' explanation close the matter. He repeats the same accusation. Commentators see purpose in the pressure, not cruelty.
The conscience must be faithfully dealt with, if anything is to be done. And Joseph aims at it at once. He makes himself strange to them. He speaks to them through an interpreter, and he speaks roughly. He must get their conscience into action, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness is still ahead. It will be satisfied later; now it must serve. In the day of their sin they had said of him, "Here comes this dreamer." Now, in the day of their conviction, he says of them, "You are spies."
The accusation did not fit the facts. They had come to buy food, and Joseph knew it. He was after a different dishonesty, one they had not yet named.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. This was not accurate. Yet Joseph was seeking to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man (v. 11). They must later be brought to confess that they have not been true.
The repeated charge keeps them talking. The more they say, the more they give themselves away.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be settled right to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all one man's sons; we are true men." They stood in the presence of the one they had rejected and, as it were, killed. Yet they could talk of being true men. What a picture of this world! Men can reject Christ, and then pretend to keep the law.
Joseph now held power over his brothers. What he did with it is the surprise.
Joseph had no thought of vengeance, nor would he call on the law or trust its process. With grace in his heart, he does not spare profitable lessons for the conscience of the guilty. So he speaks as the governor of Egypt, which he truly was. He makes himself a stranger to them for one reason only: their real good. If God was working through the pressure, then the man who shared God's mind would lead them by words and ways that troubled them. He would wake their long-sleeping conscience, so that they too might fear God as he did. Grace works the same way with every one of us who has been truly brought to God. The affections are not to be trusted, unless conscience also cries out to God in a true sense of our own ruin and deep distress.
Joseph could have ended the scene in a sentence. Holding the charge in place meant denying himself.
Had he consulted his own reputation at the first, he would have revealed himself at once, and stood out as the honoured one among his humbled brothers. Had he now consulted his heart, he would have revealed himself, and been the happy man in the arms of his convicted, sorrowing brothers. But he consulted neither the one nor the other. Love was serving. The farmer of the soul, like the farmer of the ground, sometimes needs "long patience." He has to wait for the later rain as well as the early.
What Joseph does here becomes a pattern. The hard words were not the goal; they were the door.
The effect was electric. "They said to one another, In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen. That is why this distress has come upon us" (v. 21). Their consciences were reached, and it is a good thing when the conscience gets reached. God's avenue to the heart is always by the conscience.
- Repeated on purpose. Joseph will not drop the charge. Dropping it would end the pressure too soon. The conscience must be faced, or nothing is done.
- Wrong crime, right guilt. The spying accusation was not accurate; it was aimed at a dishonesty they had hidden for years.
- Self-defence backfires. Every protest of "we are true men" only shows how much they still had to confess.
- Grace in disguise. There was no thought of revenge behind the rough voice; the whole aim was their real good.
- Patience pays. Joseph held back the reunion his own heart wanted, and the waiting brought the confession he was after: "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother."
By this ye shall be put to the proof as Pharaoh lives, ye shall not go forth hence, unless your youngest brother come hither!
Joseph rules Egypt's grain, and the brothers who sold him now stand in front of him. He hides who he is and swears they will not leave until their youngest brother comes — harsh words from a man with no thought of revenge.
The first question is whether Joseph is paying them back.
Joseph had no thought of vengeance; nor would he go to law or trust the legal process. With grace in his heart, he does not spare lessons that will profit the conscience of the guilty. So he speaks like the governor of Egypt, which he truly was. He makes himself a stranger to them for one purpose only: their real good.
Joseph has already called them spies. Was the charge true?
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. This was not true, but Joseph was trying to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man. They must later be brought to confess that they have not been true.
The cost of that pretence fell on Joseph himself, who had to hold back the affection he felt.
He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness lies ahead. It will be satisfied by and by; for now it must serve.
Joseph could have set any condition. He names Benjamin, and the reason lies in who Benjamin was to Jacob.
The men, however, were speaking the truth as far as they knew it. Their confession gave a good opportunity to put them to the test. Benjamin was a son of Rachel, as Joseph himself was, and therefore specially loved by Jacob. He would demand that they bring Benjamin from his father's side. Until they produced him, one of them would stay behind as a hostage. How would the brothers react to that?
That demand does more than test them. It reaches back to an older sin.
In all this it is plain how everything turns on Benjamin and their attitude toward him. This is made the test of their condition. But only Joseph holds the power to set them free. And everything they go through over Benjamin works to wake up their conscience and their heart about their sin against Joseph.
They came for food and got a prison cell. One writer traces the same pattern in how God deals with an awakened soul.
They say they are twelve brothers. The youngest is with their father. Then, meaning Joseph himself, they say, "And one is not." The cord is pulled a little tighter. Unless they change and bring their youngest brother, they will not leave. Instead of grain, they are all put into prison. And so God sometimes seems rough with the awakened soul. Instead of giving salvation, the anxious one finds himself in Joseph's prison. But on the third day — for resurrection is the only door out of Joseph's prison — "Do this and you will live," says Joseph.
Joseph locks them all up. Three days later he changes the terms.
As they were all guilty, which no one on earth knew so well as Joseph, he committed them all to custody. But underneath the governor's frown lay compassion for them all. On the good witness of the third day, he proposed that only one should stay in prison. The rest were to go back to the comfort of their families, carrying the food he supplied them free of charge — though they never suspected it. But there was one condition, which had to be laid down for their sakes as much as his: "Bring your youngest brother to me." No doubt such a word sent a pang into their hearts, for they knew well what Benjamin was to his father and to them in the difficulties they now faced. They had sinned against their father, and above all about one brother — the brother they were sure was dead, who was the very lord now standing in front of them.
- Purpose — The stranger's voice and the harsh charge are not revenge. Joseph speaks as governor for one purpose only — "their real good."
- Conscience — A false charge of spying reaches a real guilt. Men who call themselves "true men" must first admit they were not.
- Cost — The harshness costs Joseph more than it costs them. He holds his love back: firm now, tender later.
- Test — Benjamin measures where their hearts are. The demand for him works back toward their sin against Joseph.
- Prison — They ask for grain and get a cell. On the third day Joseph opens the door: "Do this and you will live." Mercy was inside the frown all along.
Send one of you, that he may fetch your brother, but ye shall be imprisoned, and your words shall be put to the proof, whether the truth is in you; and if not, as Pharaoh lives, ye are spies.
Joseph has accused the ten men in front of him of spying, and now he sets his terms: one brother fetches Benjamin while the rest stay locked up. The demand sounds like a foreign official's suspicion, but the man making it is their own brother, and his real question is not about spying.
The brothers had just told Joseph about their father and the youngest son still at home. That answer shaped the test.
The men, however, were speaking the truth as far as they knew it, and their confession gave a good opportunity to put them to the test. Benjamin was a son of Rachel, as Joseph himself was, and so was especially dear to Jacob. He would demand that they bring Benjamin from his father's side. Until they produced him, he would hold one of them as a hostage. How would the brothers react to that?
Joseph's demand tests a claim the brothers had just made about themselves. They had said they were honest men — "true men" in older translations, which is what the verse means by truth in them.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be dealt with right down to the root. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all sons of one man. We are honest men." They stood in front of the one they had rejected and, in effect, killed. And they could still talk about being honest men. What a picture of this world! People can reject Christ, and then pretend to keep God's law.
Joseph's method is to put the old situation in front of them again and watch.
They have said, "We are honest men." So Joseph will put them in a situation that shows whether they can act at last as true brothers and true sons. With the utmost wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they shall have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
Joseph's harshness is not temper. It is deliberate work on the conscience, and it costs the man doing it.
He must get their conscience into action, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness lies ahead. It will be satisfied by and by; it must serve now. In the day of their sin they had said of him, "Here comes this dreamer." Now, in the day of their conviction, he says of them, "You are spies; you have come to see the nakedness of the land."
The result shows up a few verses later, and it points to how God works with anyone.
The effect was electric. "Then they said to one another, 'In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen. That is why this distress has come upon us.'" Their consciences were reached, and it is a good thing when the conscience gets reached. God's avenue to the heart is ever by the conscience.
Joseph puts all ten in custody. Yet he softens the sentence, and the men never guess how much he gives them.
As they were all guilty, which no one on earth knew so well as Joseph, he committed them all to custody. But under the governor's frown lay compassion for them all. On the good testimony of the third day he proposed that only one should stay in prison. The rest should return to the comfort of their families, with the food he supplied free of charge — though they never suspected it. But he had to set one condition, for their sakes as much as his own: "Bring your youngest brother to me."
Commentators point to what this demand finally achieves in the brothers.
In all this it is plain how everything turns on Benjamin and on their attitude toward him. Joseph makes this the test of their condition. Yet the power to deliver them lies in Joseph's hands alone. All they go through over Benjamin works to wake up their conscience and heart about their sin against Joseph. This is the key to reading the story as a picture.
- Tested, not punished. The spying charge is a device. The real question is whether these men have changed since they sold their brother.
- Words proved by cost. They called themselves honest men. So Joseph asks for the one thing that will prove it — the brother their father cannot bear to lose.
- Conscience first. The rough speech and the oath are aimed at the conscience, because that is the route by which God reaches the heart.
- Grace under the frown. Behind the governor's hard terms lie compassion, free grain, and a sentence reduced from all ten to one.
- Benjamin the hinge. How they treat the youngest brother shows what they now are. But only Joseph has the power to set them free.
And he put them in custody three days.
Joseph's ten brothers came to Egypt for food, and the man questioning them is the brother they sold. They do not know him, and instead of grain he gives them three days in prison — why not a pardon?
Joseph holds all the power here, and his first move is not food but a cell. One writer explains what losing their liberty was meant to teach them:
before-note-none
Joseph now takes the first step to convict them of their sin, by putting them into prison. The fear of losing their lives had brought them to Egypt, and the result is that they lose their liberty. For three days they are left in prison so that they may learn in some measure what their sins deserve. Joseph had been thrown into prison unjustly, but they are justly brought into the same condemnation. The result is that conscience begins to work, for they say, "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother."
The sentence is real, but it is short. One writer measures it against the years Joseph himself had spent in prison:
They are all put in prison, however, for three days. Joseph was wise to make them feel the pain of being locked up. But it was brief compared with the years of his own imprisonment. After the three days he lightens their sentence. Instead of keeping nine men in prison, he orders that only one stay behind while the rest go home to bring their younger brother back.
Joseph could have met their need and sent them away. One writer explains why he did more than that:
Joseph, however, had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. His method may seem strange to them for a while. But love and wisdom directed it all from beginning to end… It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work. He was doing his act, but it was his strange act. He arranges circumstances so that sorrow may work repentance. But he does not yet show himself. For all this may be the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart.
Another writer names the aim behind the hard treatment, and what would have been lost without it:
The sternness he used toward them was skilful. Its aim was to convict them of their sin, humble them, and bring them to self-judgment and repentance. This inward heart work was an absolute necessity. To have filled them with the grain of Egypt while leaving their hearts untouched would have been a disaster.
What the confinement produced was not information for Joseph but memory in them. Nobody interrogated them in the cell; the silence did the work:
And now we read, "And he put them all together in custody for three days." They got three days in prison, had time to think, and came to this right conclusion: "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen. That is why this distress has come upon us." On the third day Joseph said, Go home, and bring your youngest brother to me.
One writer applies the scene to anyone whose conscience God has begun to stir. Note what he makes of the third day:
And so God sometimes seems to treat the awakened soul roughly. Instead of giving salvation, the poor, anxious one finds himself in Joseph's prison. But on the third day — for resurrection is the only door out of Joseph's prison — "Do this and you will live," says Joseph.
The scene also looks ahead. One writer sees in Joseph's testing a picture of how Christ will one day deal with Israel:
So Joseph carries out a most solemn searching of the heart and conscience of his brothers. It is exactly what the Lord from a better glory will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside, in a new position they never expected, and they do not know Him. But He too will cause the pinch of famine to press upon them. He too will work in their hearts, so that in due time He may make Himself known to them righteously.
- Guilt — Joseph's first step is a prison, not a pardon. It is meant to convict his brothers of their sin.
- Justice — Joseph's own prison was unjust. Theirs is just, and it lasts three days, not years.
- Love — the sternness is skilful and aims at repentance. Full sacks and untouched hearts would have been a disaster.
- Conscience — the three days do their work. The brothers begin to say, "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother."
- Release — the third day opens the prison, and resurrection is the only door out of it. Christ will search His own people's hearts the same way, then make Himself known.
after-note-none
And Joseph said to them the third day, This do, that ye may live I fear God.
Joseph now holds the lives of the ten men who once wronged him, and they have no idea who he is. After three days in custody he softens his terms, and the reason he gives is not policy or pity but the fear of God.
Power has changed hands. One writer names the two courses nature would suggest, and rejects both.
How will Joseph use his power? Will he condemn his brothers to hard bondage, just as he had suffered bondage at their hands? Human nature might prompt such a course. Vengeance might delight in it. One might plead justice for it. On the other hand, nature might suggest a very different course. Could not Joseph act with generosity and entirely overlook the sin of his brothers?… Nature can often talk in a breezy way of letting bygones be bygones. It can try to exalt itself by a show of generosity. Joseph, however, will take another way. In the eyes of the natural man such conduct seems highly commendable. But it has no attraction for the man who fears God.
These words are not a mood of the moment. They name what governed Joseph long before this day.
This was the secret of Joseph's life. Through all the ups and downs of his path, from youth to old age, the holy fear of God governed him — not the promptings of nature… Nature leaves God out. It thinks only of self-defence, self-gratification, or self-exaltation. Faith thinks of God and of what is pleasing and due to Him… In the day of his temptation the fear of God kept him from the path of evil. He could say, "How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?" In the day of his exaltation the same fear of God keeps him from taking vengeance on his brothers… He always kept God between himself and his circumstances.
Egypt was a land full of idols. That is what makes the ruler's reason so pointed.
He dropped a few words of great significance to the sons of Jacob. They never expected such words from the great lord of a people as idolatrous as the Egyptians. He spoke them to explain a proposal so just and considerate: "I fear God." They were in a serious position, and relief had just been offered. Who can doubt that such words were sure to work on their conscience?
One writer reads the timing of the offer as more than a detail.
And so God sometimes seems rough with the awakened soul. Instead of giving salvation, the poor anxious one finds himself in Joseph's prison. But on the third day — for resurrection is the only door out of Joseph's prison — Joseph says, "Do this and you will live." Give a guarantee, and you go free, until you bring your younger brother.
They go home carrying more than they paid for.
Underneath the governor's frown lay compassion for them all. So on the good evidence of the third day he proposed that only one should stay in prison. The rest would return to the comfort of their families with the food he supplied them freely — though they never suspected it… But if the way of transgressors is hard, the way of grace is beyond anything man, good or bad, could imagine.
Another writer explains what his strange method was for.
Joseph, however, had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He had to prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. The method he had to take might seem strange in their eyes for a while. But love and wisdom were to direct it all from beginning to end. To bless them with real blessing, as he intended, he had to lead them to repentance.
One writer reads the scene as a picture of what Christ will yet do with His own people.
It is exactly what the Lord from a better glory will do before long with His Jewish brothers… He too will cause the pinch of famine to press upon them. He too will work in their hearts as a result, so that He may be made righteously known to them in due time.
- Fear. "I fear God" is the one principle that governed Joseph in slavery, in prison, and now in power. He kept God between himself and every circumstance.
- Restraint. The fear of God ruled out revenge. It also ruled out an easy, generous overlooking of the wrong.
- Prison. The severity was not cruelty. He was preparing not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing, and that meant leading them to repentance.
- Third day. The door out of Joseph's prison opens on the third day, the day of resurrection. Only then comes the offer: do this and you will live.
- Result. Under the frown lay compassion. He sent them home with free grain and with words aimed straight at ten sleeping consciences.
If ye are honest, let one of your brethren remain bound in the house of your prison, but go ye, carry grain for the hunger of your households;
Joseph, now governor of Egypt, has held his ten brothers in prison for three days. On the third day he softens his own sentence, and he ties their release to a word they had used about themselves: "honest men."
Joseph had spent years in an Egyptian prison. His brothers spend three days there, and then the terms change.
They are all put in prison for three days. Joseph was wisely making them feel the pain of forced confinement, though only briefly compared to the years of his own imprisonment. After the three days he lightens the sentence against them… He did this because, as he said, "I fear God."
Joseph gives the fear of God as his reason for easing the terms. One writer sets Joseph's fear beside their fear and finds the two are opposites.
"They feared because they were offenders; he feared lest he should offend." … The goodness of Joseph should have gladdened their hearts. Instead they are miserable and afraid in the presence of a goodness that their guilty consciences tell them they do not deserve.
The same fear of God sets his goal for his brothers.
Joseph had no thought of revenge, and he would not call in the law or rely on it. With grace in his heart he still does not spare lessons that profit the conscience of the guilty… If God was working through the pressure, he who had God's mind would lead them by words and ways that troubled them. This would wake their long-sleeping conscience, so that they too might fear God as he did.
Joseph's condition — "if you are honest men" — takes up the very claim they had made about themselves. They made it while knowing what they had done to him.
The brothers have condemned themselves out of their own mouths. They have protested that they are true men, and in the same breath they say, "one is not." They know full well that if Joseph has passed out of their existence, it is entirely because of their own wickedness.
The hard exterior and the kindness are not two moods but one purpose. Joseph knew their guilt better than anyone alive, and still sent them home fed.
Since they were all guilty, which no one on earth knew so well as Joseph, he committed them all to custody. But compassion for them all lay underneath the governor's frown. On the good witness of the third day he proposed that only one should remain in prison. The rest would return to the comfort of their families, with the food he supplied them freely — though they never suspected this.
Joseph keeps one brother back, and that brother is Simeon.
Simeon is bound before their eyes, but it is love that binds the cords round Simeon, for even as he does so he turns aside to weep. The cords that bound him were cords of love. Moreover, he commanded that their sacks be filled with grain. He is not forgetful of their needs and so grants a measure of relief; none the less Simeon is held in bondage.
One writer sees in the third day a picture of how God deals with an awakened soul.
And so God sometimes seems to treat the awakened soul roughly. Instead of giving salvation, the poor anxious one finds himself in Joseph's prison. But on the third day — for resurrection is the only door out of Joseph's prison — Joseph says, "Do this and you will live." Give a guarantee, and you are set free, until you bring your younger brother.
- Cause. Joseph acts on one stated reason: he fears God. That fear does not harden the sentence; it lightens it, cutting nine prisoners down to one.
- Gift. Beneath the governor's frown lies compassion. He sends them home with grain he supplies free of charge, and they never suspect it.
- Probe. The condition takes up their own word. They called themselves honest men, and in the same breath said of Joseph, "one is not." They condemned themselves out of their own mouths.
- Bond. Joseph ties the cords himself, then turns aside to weep. The cords that hold Simeon are cords of love.
- Result. The rough handling is not the end. On the third day the door opens, and the word attached is "live." God often seems to deal roughly with an awakened soul before giving salvation.
and bring your youngest brother to me, in order that your words be verified, and that ye may not die. And they did so.
Joseph has just softened his terms: he will hold one brother and let the rest carry grain home. But their freedom has a price, and it reaches back to their father in Canaan and to the youngest son he can least bear to lose.
Joseph offers them food, freedom and their lives. One writer says the governor's hard face hid compassion:
Since they were all guilty — which no one on earth knew as well as Joseph — he put them all in custody. But compassion for them all lay underneath the governor's frown. After three days had given good evidence, he proposed that only one should stay in prison. The rest should return to their families with the food he supplied free of charge, though they never suspected it. But there was one condition, and he had to set it for their sake as much as his: "Bring your youngest brother to me." No doubt such a word sent a pang into their hearts. They knew well what Benjamin was to his father and theirs in those hard days. They had sinned against their father, and above all about one brother. They were sure he was not alive — yet he was the very lord who now stood in front of them. But if the way of wrongdoers is hard, the way of grace is beyond anything anyone can imagine, good or bad.
Joseph put their honesty to the test, and he chose the costliest proof he could name:
The men were speaking the truth as far as they knew it, however, and their confession gave a good chance to test them. Benjamin was a son of Rachel, as Joseph himself was, and so Jacob had a special love for him. Joseph would demand that they take Benjamin from his father's side, and he would hold one of them as a hostage until they produced him. How would the brothers react to that?
The demand reached back to their old crime:
The point of this struck home to the brothers. They had robbed their father of Joseph, and now he is to lose the younger son his heart was set on. It stabbed their consciences into action.
Joseph gives his own reason: "I fear God." One writer calls this the secret of his whole life:
This was the secret of Joseph's life. Through all the ups and downs of his path, from youth to old age, the holy fear of God governed him, not the dictates of nature… Nature leaves God out and thinks only of clearing itself, pleasing itself, or exalting itself. Faith thinks of God and of what pleases God and is due to Him. In the day of his temptation, the fear of God kept him from the path of evil… Now that he is raised high, the fear of God keeps him from taking revenge on his brothers.
That same fear shows in the practical arrangement, which was lighter than his first word had been:
After the three days he lightens the sentence against them, for instead of nine being kept in prison, he decrees that only one be kept while the rest return home to bring their younger brother back with them. He did this because, as he said, "I fear God."
The change of terms comes "on the third day," and one writer reads the whole sequence as a picture of how an anxious soul is dealt with:
Unless they mend their ways and fetch their youngest brother, they will not leave. Instead of getting grain, they all go into prison. And so God sometimes seems to treat the awakened soul roughly. Instead of giving salvation, the poor anxious one finds himself in Joseph's prison. But on the third day Joseph says, "Do this, and you will live" — for resurrection is the only door out of Joseph's prison. Give a pledge, and you go free until you bring your younger brother.
All this severity had one target:
Their consciences were reached, and it is a good thing when the conscience gets reached. God's avenue to the heart is ever by the conscience.
William Kelly sees this scene as a pattern of the Lord's future dealings with Israel:
The result is that Joseph carries out a most solemn searching of the heart and conscience of his brothers. It is exactly what the Lord from a better glory will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside, in a new position they never expected, and they do not know Him. But He too will let the pinch of famine press on them. As a result He too will work in their hearts, so that at the right time He may righteously make Himself known to them.
- Guilt named. Joseph knew their sin better than anyone alive. The governor's hard face covered compassion for them all.
- Grace conditioned. Joseph offers food, freedom and life. One condition stands: they must bring the youngest brother.
- Fear as the spring. "I fear God" explains both the hardness and the mercy. The fear that kept Joseph from sin also kept him from revenge.
- Conscience the road. The demand touched the exact spot of their old crime, and their consciences woke.
- A larger picture. Kelly sees the same pattern in the Lord's dealings with Israel. Unknown to them, He searches their hearts before He makes Himself known.
Then they said one to another, We are indeed guilty concerning our brother, whose anguish of soul we saw when he besought us, and we did not hearken; therefore this distress is come upon us.
Joseph's brothers sold him into slavery more than twenty years earlier. Now they stand in Egypt before the very man they wronged, without knowing him, and say out loud what they had buried for two decades. Why does guilt surface when it does? And who is at work behind the trouble that drags it up?
Joseph's first step towards their consciences was a prison, not a speech.
Joseph now takes the first step to convict them of their sin, by putting them into prison. The fear of losing their lives had brought them to Egypt, with the result that they lose their liberty. He leaves them in prison for three days, so that they may learn in some measure what their sins deserve. Joseph went to prison unjustly. They come into the same condemnation, and they deserve it. The result is that conscience begins to work... Conscience connects their present trouble with their past sin. They do not only say, "In truth we are guilty," but "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother." They saw the anguish of his soul, but they hardened their hearts. He begged them, but they stopped their ears.
Nobody in Egypt raised the subject of Joseph; something inside them did.
Then the remembrance of their brother came home with power. Joseph did not speak of it. No one in Egypt knew of it. But a warning voice lived within their hearts. It may have been asleep for a time, but it could not stay silent for ever. It now awoke, and each one clearly recalled his very look of anguish... Memory does not die, though it may sleep for a time.
Each brother had older failures he could have named. Instead they all reach for one.
It was their sin against Joseph they called to mind in the day of their distress... Other sins might have been present to the conscience then. Reuben might have thought of the defilement of his father's bed, Simeon and Levi of their bloodshed and treachery, and Judah of his marriage. But they were stirred into life by the Spirit, and not only by the trouble which had come upon them. So they remember the common sin, and speak with one conscience of their wickedness towards Joseph. And it is this which shows the Spirit's work in this conviction.
Their confession preserves what the earlier account left out — Joseph's own pain.
The account of his sale says nothing about how deeply Joseph felt the trauma of his ordeal. But we learn something of this in his brothers' later words to one another: "we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen" (Gen. 42:21). He was taken to a far distant country and made a slave at the tender age of 17. How many hours of painful agony he must have known!
The brothers never saw how the governor reacted to their words.
The first time Joseph wept was when he saw the first stirrings of conscience and self-judgment in his brothers. They spoke among themselves. They never recognised Joseph in Egypt's splendid governor, and never suspected that he understood their language. "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother," he heard them say. Joseph "turned away from them and wept." They were tears of love and thankfulness. He saw that his dealings were beginning to take effect. They were raising the questions about the past that his brothers had to face before they could be happy in his presence.
Their honesty is real, but one writer cautions against reading it as the finished work.
But how bitter is the anguish that guilt brings... How bitter is the grief of the heart! When guilt weighs on the conscience, you look back on past sins with indescribable remorse. But this is not true repentance; that has not come yet.
Their reading of events was true. Joseph read the same facts a different way.
Joseph's sorrows came at their wicked hands. Yet, as we saw, he read them very differently from the way their fears and guilt read them. They said, and quite rightly, "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother." He says, and quite truly, "God sent me before you to preserve life." And this is the gospel. We are convicted, but saved. We learn that we have destroyed ourselves, but that in Him is our help... The history of these brothers foreshadows God's chosen ones among the Jews. They will pass through the same experience in the day of Isaiah 53 and Zechariah 13.
- Pressure — three days in prison did what twenty years of quiet could not. Trouble tied their present distress to an old sin.
- Memory — the sin slept but never died; conscience recalled the exact scene, down to the look on Joseph's face.
- Pity — the pain the earlier record leaves out comes out here. He begged them, and they would not listen.
- Love — the harsh voice belonged to a brother who wept as soon as their consciences stirred.
- Progress — bitter remorse is a real start, but it stops short of repentance. The story ends with "God sent me before you to preserve life": convicted, yet saved.
And Reuben answered them, saying, Did I not speak to you, saying, Do not sin against the lad? But ye did not hearken; and now behold, his blood also is required.
Twenty years after selling Joseph, his brothers stand in front of him without knowing it. Their memory of that day breaks open. Reuben's answer is the sharpest word in the room. He reminds them he once objected, then admits that a reckoning for blood has now fallen on them all.
Their guilt did not surface on its own. The demand Joseph made touched the exact spot where they had wronged their father.
The point of this struck home to the brothers. They had robbed their father of Joseph, and now he is to lose the younger son his affection was specially set on. It stabbed their consciences into action, as we see in verses 21 and 22, and this was their first step in the right direction. Moreover it was the first indication to Joseph of a change taking place in them. Joseph had spoken to them roughly, as indeed they deserved, and he understood their language, though they did not know the Egyptian dialect he spoke in.
Another writer states the principle behind it.
Their consciences were reached, and it is a good thing when the conscience gets reached. God's avenue to the heart is ever by the conscience.
These men had plenty of other guilt on their record. Yet they all named the same one.
It was their sin against Joseph they called to mind in the day of their distress. "We are truly guilty concerning our brother," they say, "in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he begged us, and we would not listen." Other sins might have been on their conscience then. Reuben might have thought of the defilement of his father's bed, Simeon and Levi of their bloodshed and treachery, and Judah of his marriage. But they were stirred into life, not only by the trouble which had come upon them, but by the Spirit. So they keep in mind the sin they all shared, and speak, as with one conscience, of their wickedness concerning Joseph.
The reckoning Reuben names says the account was never closed. Twenty years of silence had settled nothing, and God's purpose in reopening it was not to crush them.
Their sin against Joseph and against their father, and their sin against God too, had been hidden for some twenty years. Now it had begun to come home to them. God would not work the grief of the world that ends in death. In His goodness He would work repentance that leads to salvation, so that the truth they had heard from their father might no longer be a mere theory, but a living reality, as it was in Joseph's soul.
Reuben's "did I not tell you" is true — he had spoken up. But speaking up was as far as he ever got, and one writer sees a whole character type in it.
When Joseph was in danger from his brothers, Reuben should have protected him as the eldest. He does go so far as to say, "Shed no blood … put him down this pit." He meant to rescue him. But something always happens to upset a Reuben's good intentions.
Reuben's protest here fits that pattern. He objected once, and Joseph was sold anyway.
Commentators read this scene as a preview of a confession Israel has still to make.
We know, on authority that cannot be broken, that the repentant Jew will one day say what his forefathers said in the similar case of Joseph — only about One greater and better than Joseph: We were very guilty concerning our brother.
And the confession is not the end of the story. The brothers read their trouble as punishment. Joseph read it as God's provision. That gap is where the gospel sits.
They said, and very rightly, "we are truly guilty concerning our brother." He says, and very truly, "God did send me before you, to preserve life." And this is the gospel. We are convicted, but saved. We learn that we have destroyed ourselves, but that in Him is our help. The blood meets the spear. The fountain is opened in those very wounds which our own hands have inflicted.
- Struck — Joseph's rough handling reached what twenty quiet years never did. Conscience is God's road into a person.
- Named — They passed over every other sin and confessed the one they shared. Naming the right sin is the Spirit's fingerprint.
- Required — Hidden guilt is not cancelled guilt. God reopened the account, and He reopened it for repentance that leads to salvation, not despair.
- Protest — Reuben spoke up, meant to rescue Joseph, and never delivered. Good intentions saved no one, and the reckoning fell on him too.
- Answered — The brothers saw only their crime; Joseph saw God preserving life. Conviction met by grace is the gospel. It is the confession Israel will yet make about One greater than Joseph.
And they did not know that Joseph understood, for the interpreter was between them.
An interpreter stands between Joseph and the brothers who sold him. They think the governor of Egypt cannot follow a word they say to each other. He understands all of it.
The interpreter was not needed. Joseph knew the language his brothers were speaking. Commentators read the interpreter as part of a deliberate disguise.
Verse 23 tells us he spoke to them through an interpreter. Of course he knew their language perfectly well. But he would not give them the slightest hint that he might be known to them.
Another writer fills in what the brothers actually heard from him.
He had spoken to them roughly, as indeed they deserved. He understood their language. They did not know the Egyptian dialect he spoke in.
Why keep up the act? The grain was not the only thing they needed. The rough voice and the interpreter were tools aimed at a sleeping conscience.
He acts like a stranger to them. He speaks to them through an interpreter, and he speaks roughly. He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. For now his love must be firm. Its hour for tenderness is still ahead.
Food alone would have left them unchanged. One writer calls that the real danger.
To have loaded them with the grain of Egypt and left their hearts untouched would have been a disaster. Their stomachs would have been satisfied, but their hearts left unreached and unchanged.
The severity was only half the story.
He arranges circumstances so that sorrow may work repentance, but he does not yet show himself. All this may be the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart. In secret, though unknown to them, he enters into the very sorrows that he was causing.
The brothers speak freely, sure that no one else can follow them. They admit out loud that they are guilty about their brother. The listener they never counted on hears every word.
Think how their confusion must have touched his loving heart. He heard them admit their sin. They had turned away without pity from his agony when he begged them as his brothers, and begged in vain. First they left him to die, then they sold him as a slave! ... It amazed him that God was giving such a sign for good in his hard-hearted and envious brothers. How much more would it have amazed them, if they had known that Joseph was listening to their repentance?
His reaction shows what he had been waiting for. He turned away and wept.
Joseph wept for the first time when he saw the first stirrings of conscience and self-judgment in his brothers. They talked among themselves. They never recognised Joseph in Egypt's splendid governor, and never suspected that he understood their speech. "In truth we are guilty concerning our brother," he heard them say. Joseph "turned away from them and wept." They were tears of love and thankfulness, for he saw that his dealings were beginning to take effect.
One writer sees the same pattern repeated in a future day. People will seek Christ without yet knowing whether He has forgiven them.
They will seek Christ. They will know He has died and risen, but they will not know whether He has forgiven them. They will be like Joseph's brothers, aware of their need, making their way to Joseph — before they discover who he really is. Joseph reveals who he is only after real repentance has taken hold in their hearts: "I am Joseph."
- Concealed. The interpreter was staged, not necessary. Joseph knew their language, and refused to give his brothers any hint of who he was.
- Concealed for a reason. He acted like a stranger and spoke roughly to get their conscience working, whatever it cost him.
- Concealed, not cold. His hand was severe, but his heart was not. Unknown to them, he shared in the very sorrows he was causing.
- Overheard. They thought they were alone. They confessed their guilt about their brother, and the man they had wronged heard every word.
- Revealed at last. The disguise dropped only when repentance was real. Writers see here a picture of Christ making Himself known to His own.
And he turned away from them, and wept. And he returned to them, and spoke to them, and took Simeon from among them, and bound him before their eyes.
The brothers stand before the ruler of Egypt. They do not know that he is the brother they sold. In his hearing they admit their guilt, and he steps aside to weep. So the verse holds two things at once: a heart breaking with love, and a hand that keeps up the pressure.
Everything Joseph does here has a purpose, and none of it matches what he feels. One writer traces the gap between his manner and his heart:
He had once come to them, and they had said, "Here comes this dreamer." Now they come to him, and he says, "You are spies, you are spies." He makes himself a stranger to them. He speaks harshly, and by this he calls their sin to mind. "We are truly guilty," they say, "concerning our brother." But he hides himself while all this is going on. He speaks to them through an interpreter. It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work; he was doing his act, but it was his strange act. He arranges circumstances so that sorrow may work repentance, but he does not yet show himself. For all this may be the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart... They had once bound and sold their poor brother to strangers, and now a stranger takes and binds one of them.
Why does he weep? One writer finds gratitude in the tears, and not only grief:
Reuben, who had shown some regret at the time, now reminds them of their wicked deed and of his protest. Altogether Joseph was so overcome that he could only turn away and weep. Those tears were not of selfish feeling. They came from gratitude to Him who had watched over all his sufferings and dangers. Now too he could see God working, not only to humble and bless his brothers, but to cheer his father's heart... Their distress must deepen yet, for God does not spare the flesh; but the profit would be all the greater at last.
The weeping and the binding stand side by side here. He wept first, then acted:
His tears were not of the merely sentimental kind, as verse 24 shows. He did not let his deep feelings stop his further action, which was still severe. He had Simeon bound as a prisoner before their eyes. The work of conscience, which leads to repentance, had only just begun. That work needed to go much deeper. This is how God deals with us. He lets His hand of discipline stay heavy on us until the work is finished. Then afterward the blessing comes.
Joseph does not choose at random. Reuben had spoken against the crime, and Reuben is not the one chained:
Joseph soon rose above his emotion and returned to them. Before their eyes he bound Simeon, not Reuben, and with good reason.
The hand that ties Simeon is the same hand that fills their sacks:
Joseph will keep his hand on them. Simeon is bound before their eyes. But it is love that binds the cords round Simeon, for even as he does so he turns aside to weep. The cords that bound him were cords of love. What is more, he commanded that their sacks be filled with grain. He is not forgetful of their needs and so gives them some relief. Even so, he keeps Simeon a prisoner.
One writer sees in these hidden tears a picture of Someone greater, rejected by His own people and loving them still:
Joseph understood all their words, so that he wept. And He who was rejected by His own has a loving sympathy for this nation.
The brothers leave with what they came for, and Simeon stays behind in their place. That, one writer warns, is exactly the danger:
However hard God's ways may seem to the trembling, guilty soul, He is love. The substitute is bound before their eyes, and they receive their sacks full of grain. It all seems over; they have got their grain, and they leave that mysterious governor. A moment's relief. This often happens to the soul. You have certainly got a blessing; perhaps your heart feels as full of it as their sacks were full of grain. But you have not fully repented yet; the question of sin is not settled yet.
- Hidden. Joseph's roughness was his "strange work" — the way of his hand, not the way of his heart.
- Weeping. The tears came from gratitude. God had watched over Joseph's sufferings, and was now at work in his brothers.
- Binding. The same love that wept tied the cords, and Joseph kept his hand on his brothers.
- Chosen. Reuben had protested against the crime, so he went free. Joseph bound Simeon, and with good reason.
- Unfinished. They went home with full sacks and uneasy consciences. God's discipline goes on until the work is done. Then the blessing comes.
And Joseph gave orders to fill their vessels with corn, and to restore every man's money into his sack, and to give them provision for the way. And thus did they to them.
Joseph has wept out of sight of his brothers and bound Simeon before their eyes. Now he sends the rest home with full sacks — and with the silver they paid hidden in the grain. The kindness is real, but hidden. It lands on guilty consciences as alarm, not joy.
The command has two halves: fill the sacks, and put back what was paid for them. One writer reads the returned silver as a picture of how salvation comes.
"And Joseph gave orders to fill their bags with grain, and to replace every man's money in his sack" (verse 25). What is the lesson of the money in the sack? That if you are to get salvation, you cannot buy it. You are too poor to buy it, and God is too rich to sell it. Salvation must be God's free gift, and you must have it as a gift, or not have it at all.
The brothers came to Egypt as customers. What they carried home said something different about the man they had dealt with.
He is not unmindful of their needs and so grants a measure of relief; yet Simeon is still held in bondage. In the way Joseph meets their needs, he is still leading his brothers a further stage in their restoration. While supplying them with grain, he returns every man his money. Had they eyes to see they would learn from this that Joseph was a giver.
Joseph's tears in the previous verses did not change his plan. The generosity and the pressure run side by side, and both serve the same end.
Though Joseph had such tender feeling towards his brothers that he wept over them, he did not allow it to turn him aside from the stern dealing. That dealing was necessary to bring them to a proper spirit of repentance about the great wrong they had done to him, and to their father also, many years before. Joseph held Simeon as hostage, but sent the rest off with full loads of grain and provision for the way, each man with his money placed in his sack.
They had already traced their trouble back to their sin against Joseph. The returned money went further. It fitted no business deal they knew.
But Joseph followed up what he had begun by directing that each man's money be returned in his sack. He wanted to deepen the work beyond a sense of retribution for their past evil towards himself. Provision for their journey alone might not have had any such effect. But the money restored would strike them as not at all the way of sale, or of man.
One of them opened his sack at the lodging place, and the discovery emptied their courage. What follows is what grace often does when God first draws near.
His brothers too were shocked at this. They realised that God Himself was at work in it, but they did not understand why. They were afraid. John Newton puts this reaction into words in his hymn "Amazing Grace": "It was grace that first taught my heart to fear." It is always grace that brings us face to face with the living God. Because of our sin, that first meeting frightens us.
Back home, the rest of the sacks told the same story, and the whole family read it the wrong way.
Then, opening their sacks, they find the money of all restored to them. Both they and their father were afraid rather than thankful. They suspected some hidden motive behind it. So it is with mankind generally. They are suspicious that there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is proclaimed.
The fear that rose in them was not the fear Joseph knew. One writer sets the two side by side.
In their condition, gifts only arouse deeper fear. Their hearts fail them when they discover their money. They have recalled their sin, and now they see that God is dealing with them. The fear of God is rising in their souls — but not the holy fear that marked Joseph. "They feared because they were offenders; he feared that he might offend."
- Command. Joseph fills their sacks and hides their silver inside them. They leave with the food they needed and the price they paid.
- Gift. You cannot buy salvation. You are too poor to buy it, God too rich to sell it — so it comes as a gift or not at all.
- Giver. The returned silver marked Joseph as a giver, not a seller. He met their need while still holding Simeon.
- Grace. No trade explained the restored money. It was not the way of sale, or of man, and it drove the work deeper than any sense of payback.
- Fear. Grace first taught their hearts to fear. They feared because they were offenders, suspecting a catch — which is how people still meet a free offer from God.
And they loaded their asses with their grain, and departed thence.
They leave Egypt loaded with grain, the road home ahead of them. But one brother is not walking beside them, and the silver they paid is hidden in their sacks.
The man who filled their sacks had already wept over them. He still refused to let his feelings cut the process short.
Joseph felt such tenderness towards his brothers that he wept over them. Even so, he did not let it turn him aside from the stern dealing that was needed. They had done a great wrong to him, and to their father also, many years before, and they had to be brought to real repentance. Simeon was held as hostage. The rest were sent off with full loads of grain and food for the journey, each man with his money placed in his sack.
The loaded donkeys hold more than grain. Joseph had a reason for putting the silver back, and a reason for letting them find it later.
But Joseph followed up what he had begun by directing that each man's money be returned in his own sack. He wanted to deepen the work beyond a mere sense of payback for their past evil towards him. Provision for their journey on its own might not have had that effect. But the money given back would strike them as not at all the way of a sale, or the way of man. And it came on them by degrees.
They rode away thinking they had bought food. Nothing had been sold to them at all.
In the way Joseph meets their needs, he is still leading his brothers a further stage in their restoration. While supplying them with grain, he returns every man's money. Had they eyes to see, they would have learned from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition, gifts only stir up deeper fear.
Commentators read the returned silver as a picture of what God gives and no one can buy:
What is the lesson of the money in the sack? That if you are to get salvation, you cannot buy it. You are too poor to buy it, and God is too rich to sell it. Salvation must be God's free gift, and you must have it as a gift, or not have it at all.
When the silver came to light, the brothers did not celebrate. Neither did their father.
Then, opening their sacks, they find the money of all restored to them. Both they and their father were afraid rather than thankful. They suspected some hidden motive in this. It is the same with people generally. They are suspicious that there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is proclaimed.
The grain met their hunger. The silver was aimed at something else.
Joseph had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. The money in their sacks will not let them forget. They may now have turned their backs on that stranger in Egypt, the man who spoke so harshly to them and brought their sin to mind. Yet God's eye was still upon them, and God still had something to settle with them.
Writers on this chapter see the whole episode as a pattern of how God deals with His ancient people:
The result is that Joseph puts into action a most solemn searching of the heart and conscience of his brothers. It is exactly what the Lord, from a better glory, will do before long with His Jewish brothers. He is now outside, in a new position they never expected; they do not know Him. But He too will let the pinch of famine press upon them. He too will work in their hearts as a result, so that He may be made known to them righteously in due time.
- Famine drives. Hunger drove the brothers down to Egypt, to the one man they had wronged.
- Grain given. Their sacks were filled, and the silver they paid went home with them. Nothing was sold, because Joseph was a giver, not a seller.
- Silver rides home. The gift travelled in secret on the donkeys. The discovery came by degrees, and kept working on them long after Egypt was behind them.
- Fear first. Guilty consciences met kindness with suspicion. It is the same instinct that looks for a "catch" in the free grace of God.
- Repentance last. The stern dealing was never cruelty. It was love refusing to stop short of a real change of heart. Commentators see in it the pattern of how the Lord will yet make Himself known to His people.
And one of them opened his sack to give his ass food in the inn, and saw his money, and behold, it was in the mouth of his sack.
The brothers left Egypt with full sacks and one brother missing. At a roadside stop, one of them found the money he had paid back in his sack. Why would a gift terrify the men who received it?
Joseph arranged the discovery himself, and it reached only one man at first. One writer explains why he sent the money back, and why he let them find it little by little.
But Joseph followed up what he began by directing the money of each to be returned in their sacks. He sought to deepen the work beyond the sense of retribution for their past evil toward himself. Provision for their journey alone might not have had any such effect; but the money restored would strike them as not at all the way of sale or of man. And it came on them by degrees. For at their halting-place one only opened his sack to feed his donkey and saw his money in the mouth of his sack. And this he told the others, to the dismay of all.
Joseph was not simply meeting their need for food. The money in the sacks carried on the work he had begun in their consciences.
Joseph had something more to do for them than simply to supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing... In secret, though unknown to them, he enters into the very sorrows that he was causing... Before they left, he commands his steward to restore every man's money to his sack. But this was only to carry on the same work of repentance in their now awakened hearts... The money in their sacks will not let them forget one thing. They may now have turned their backs on that stranger in Egypt who spoke so roughly to them and called their sin to remembrance. But God's eye was still upon them, and God still had to do with them.
They had come to Egypt to buy. They set out for home with the grain and with their money too. One writer draws a lesson from that for anyone who wants salvation.
What is the lesson of the money in the sack? That if you are to get salvation, you cannot buy it. You are too poor to buy it, and God is too rich to sell it. Salvation must be God's free gift, and you must have it as a gift, or not have it at all.
The gift showed them what Joseph was. Guilt made them read it as a threat instead.
And in the way Joseph meets their needs he is still leading his brothers a further stage in their restoration. While supplying them with corn he returns every man his money. If they had eyes to see, they would learn from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition gifts bestowed only arouse deeper fear. Their hearts fail them at the discovery of their money... They have recalled their sin; now they see that God is dealing with them. The fear of God is arising in their souls. Not indeed that holy fear that marked Joseph. "They feared because they were offenders; he feared lest he should offend." The goodness of Joseph should have gladdened their hearts, but they are miserable and afraid in the presence of a goodness that their guilty consciences tell them they do not deserve.
Another writer notices the name they use here for the first time.
His brothers too were shocked. They realised that God was certainly stepping into this, but they did not understand why. They were afraid... It is always grace that brings us face to face with the living God. But because of our sin, that first experience is frightening. This is the first time we hear the brothers mentioning God's name.
The brothers took the money for a trap or a punishment. One writer says the hand of God was in it all the same.
They suspected that some plot or pretext lay behind it and it filled them with fear. Their consciences were still at work and they saw in it an act of retribution on the part of God. We too can recognise that truly the hand of God was in it.
What they could not yet see was that the trouble itself was serving them.
Joseph knew far better than they did that God was truly at work. God was using their self-judgment for their blessing, through the very trouble that pressed on them.
- Giver. The returned silver revealed Joseph as a giver rather than a seller — the corn came as a gift, not a trade.
- Gift. One writer reads this as a picture of salvation: you are too poor to buy it, and God is too rich to sell it.
- Gradual. Joseph uncovered the gift by degrees — one sack, one man, at a roadside stop — so it worked on them step by step.
- Guilt. A guilty conscience turned kindness into terror. They feared because they were offenders, not because Joseph was against them.
- God. Their alarmed question was the first time they named God. The very trouble they dreaded was working for their blessing.
And he said to his brethren, My money is returned [to me], and behold, it is even in my sack. And their heart failed [them], and they were afraid, saying one to another, What is this [that] God has done to us?
On the road home from Egypt, one of Joseph's brothers opens his sack to feed his donkey and finds his silver inside. Simeon is still held in Egypt, and the money drains the courage out of all of them — for the first time they speak God's name.
Joseph had the price of the grain put back into each man's sack. One commentator explains why that choice struck so deep:
But Joseph followed up what he began by directing each man's money to be returned in his sack. He wanted to deepen the work beyond a mere sense of punishment for their past evil toward himself. Food for their journey alone might not have had that effect. But the money given back would strike them as nothing like a sale, and nothing like the way of man. And it came on them by stages. At their stopping place only one opened his sack to feed his donkey and saw his money in the mouth of the sack. He told the others, and it dismayed them all. They could only say to each other, "What is this that God has done to us?" A bad conscience brought God before them.
Distance from Egypt did not end the matter. One writer sees a plan behind the money:
Joseph had to prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. The money in their sacks will not let them forget God. They may have turned their backs on that stranger in Egypt who spoke so roughly to them and called their sin to mind. But God's eye was still upon them, and God still had something to do with them.
The money was a kindness. It should have told them something about Joseph:
Had they had eyes to see, they would have learned from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition gifts only stirred up deeper fear. Their hearts fail at the discovery of their money. "What is this that God has done to us?" (verse 28). They have remembered their sin; now they see that God is dealing with them. The fear of God is rising in their souls. Not the holy fear that marked Joseph. "They feared because they were offenders; he feared lest he should offend." Joseph's goodness should have gladdened their hearts. Instead they are miserable and afraid in front of a goodness that their guilty consciences tell them they do not deserve.
One writer finds in their fear a pattern that repeats wherever grace works:
His brothers too were shocked at this. They realised that God was stepping in, but for what purpose they do not understand. They were afraid. John Newton captures this reaction in his hymn "Amazing Grace": "'Twas grace first taught my heart to fear." It is always grace that brings us face to face with the living God. Because of our sin, that meeting frightens us at first. This is the first time we hear the brothers mention God's name. So we know they did not miss what Joseph had said about his own fear of God.
The brothers took the silver as payback for an old crime. Commentators agree God's hand was in it, though the brothers could not yet tell what that hand was doing:
Their consciences were still at work, and they saw in it an act of retribution on God's part. We too can recognise that the hand of God truly was in it.
What they felt as retribution was aimed at something better than regret. The distress was measured out for an end:
God would not work the grief of the world that leads to death. According to His goodness He would work repentance that leads to salvation. Then the truth they had heard from their father would no longer be a mere theory but a living reality, as it was in Joseph's soul.
One writer turns their fear into advice for the reader:
A bad conscience is an awful companion. But it is a great thing, if you have a bad conscience, to pay attention to it. How it pulls a person up. And they begin to think about their sins. They say, "What is this that God has done to us?"
And the roughness they resented was never the whole story:
My friend, if you could read God's ways you would find them to be all love. You think He is rough. No, no — He loves you with all His heart, and He has given His Son for sinners like you and me.
- Conscience. The silver did what rough words could not. A bad conscience brought God before them, and they named Him for the first time.
- Gift. What alarmed them was a kindness — Joseph was a giver, but guilt turns gifts into threats.
- Fear. Grace is what first teaches the heart to fear, because grace brings us face to face with the living God.
- Purpose. God aimed at repentance that leads to salvation, not the grief of the world that ends in death.
- Response. A bad conscience is an awful companion, and the wise thing is to heed it — the ways that feel rough are all love.
And they came into the land of Canaan, to Jacob their father, and told him all that had befallen them, saying,
The brothers reach Canaan and tell their father all that happened in Egypt — their dealings with the governor there, and Simeon left behind. Their report is accurate. Yet neither they nor Jacob can see what God is doing with them.
Their report ends at the open sacks, and what they find there frightens them:
Returning home, they recount to their father Jacob their experience with the governor of Egypt (vv. 29-34). Then, opening their sacks, they find the money of all restored to them. Both they and their father were afraid rather than thankful, for they suspected some hidden motive in this. It is the same with people generally. They are suspicious that there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is proclaimed (v. 35).
Something had already started in these men before they reached Canaan. Joseph could read their trouble far better than they could:
The way of restoration is not easy when souls have gone astray like the sons of Jacob. But conscience had begun its deep and healthy work, however much more might be needed. Joseph knew far better than they did that God was really at work. God was using their self-judgment for their blessing, through the very trouble that pressed on them. That trouble left Simeon held in Egypt, and one of them found it confirmed by the money in the mouth of his sack. Their heart failed through fear, and they asked, "What is this that God has done to us?"
So far all of this had stayed among themselves:
All this awakening of conscience, while so far good, is only among themselves. It must all come out before Joseph if they are ever to be happy in his presence. So Joseph will keep his hand on them.
The returned money was a gift. Guilt turned it into evidence against them:
Had they eyes to see, they would have learned from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition, gifts only stirred up deeper fear. Their hearts failed them at the discovery of their money. "What is this that God has done to us?" They have recalled their sin, and now they see that God is dealing with them. The fear of God is rising in their souls. Not the holy fear that marked Joseph. "They feared because they had done wrong; he feared doing wrong." So again, when they returned to Jacob, each man found his money in his sack, and "they were afraid." The goodness of Joseph should have made them glad. Instead they are miserable and afraid, because their guilty consciences tell them they do not deserve such goodness.
The old man answers the report with a complaint about his losses. His words land on his sons in a way he never intended:
Poor Jacob's reaction to it all, recorded in verse 36, is very characteristic of him. When he said, "You have bereaved me … Joseph is no more …" he spoke more truly than he knew. His bereavement, as regards Joseph, did indeed lie at their door, so this must have been a further stab to their consciences.
Jacob himself is measuring God by what he can see. (The ESV renders his cry in verse 36 as "All this has come against me.")
Jacob is not guilty, like his sons, but his feeble faith can see no trace of the hand of God in all these circumstances. As he hears the story of his sons' experiences, all he can say is, "All these things are against me." The language of faith speaks very differently. It says, "For those who love God all things work together for good." The very things that to sight and nature were against him were the very means God was using for his blessing.
Jacob's heaviest losses were not wasted:
Yet these blows, which fell so heavily on his affections, were the needed path to blessing and joy for all. And such is the end of the Lord for all who fear Him, however trying the way.
- Told. They told their father everything that had happened, yet the confession that mattered had not yet come out before Joseph.
- Probed. Conscience had begun its deep work. God was using their self-judgment for their blessing, through the very trouble that pressed on them.
- Given. The money in the sacks was pure gift, but guilt read it as a trap — they feared because they had done wrong.
- Complained. Jacob's "All these things are against me" was feeble faith reading God by sight. His words about his lost son stabbed his sons' consciences, and he never knew it.
- Blessed. The blows that hurt Jacob most were the path to joy for the whole family. That is the end of the Lord for all who fear Him.
The man, the lord of the land, spoke roughly to us, and treated us as spies of the land.
The ten brothers reach Canaan and tell their father what happened in Egypt. They describe the governor only as "the man, the lord of the land" — a stranger who was harsh with them and treated them as spies. Their report is true as far as it goes. But it misses the one fact that explains everything. The man was Joseph, and his harshness was not hatred.
Joseph's harshness was deliberate. He hid behind an interpreter. He also hid behind a charge he knew was false. Both were aimed at their consciences.
Verse 23 tells us he spoke to them through an interpreter. Of course he knew their language perfectly well. But he would not give them the least hint that they might know who he was. When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. This was not accurate. But Joseph wanted to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are honest men, the sons of one man. Later they must be brought to confess that they have not been honest.
Grain alone would have sent them home fed and unchanged. Joseph wanted more for them than that.
Joseph had something more to do for them than simply supply their present need. He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. The method he had to take might seem strange to them for a while. But love and wisdom directed it all from beginning to end. To bless them with real blessing, as he planned, he must lead them to repentance... It was indeed his work, but it was his strange work; he was doing his act, but it was his strange act.
The charge they carry home to Jacob echoes their own past. They had once pinned a name on Joseph. Now he pins one on them.
This was taking them up for the good work of restoring their souls, though the process is humbling and painful. The conscience must be dealt with faithfully, or nothing is done... He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness lies ahead. In the day of their sin they had said of him, "Here comes this dreamer"; and now, in the day of their conviction, he says of them, "You are spies."
They also told their father what they said in reply — that they were honest men. They gave that answer in Egypt, standing in front of the governor himself.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be probed to the bottom. The cutting cord of a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." Now notice their defence — "We are all sons of one man. We are honest men." They stood in front of the one they had rejected and, in effect, killed. Yet they could talk about being honest men.
The brothers reported the facts and read them wrongly. People do the same with God.
Joseph's brothers were waking up; they say, "What is this that God has done to us?" God was putting His finger on their consciences. When they get back to their father, they say, "The man, the lord of the land, spoke roughly to us and took us to be spies of the land." My friend, if you could interpret God's ways you would find them to be all love. You think He is rough. No, no, He loves you with all His heart, and He has given His Son for sinners like you and me.
The blows fell heaviest on Jacob, left at home with this report. But they were going somewhere.
Yet these blows which fell so heavily on his affections were the needed path for blessing and joy to all. And such is the end of the Lord for all who fear Him, however trying the way. Joseph had known it too, and far more deeply than any. In this he was a picture of Christ, faithful in the middle of unfaithfulness... But even for Joseph, and for One far greater than Joseph, humiliation was the path to glory.
- Disguise. Joseph knew them, but spoke through an interpreter. He charged them with a crime he knew they had not committed. He stayed hidden while he worked on their hearts.
- Probe. The charge was pressure, not punishment. Joseph had to deal faithfully with their conscience, or nothing would be done.
- Mirror. They had once called him "this dreamer"; now he calls them spies. The word they carry home to Jacob is their own sin handed back.
- Blind spot. They repeat their defence — "we are honest men" — in front of the brother they had rejected. They feel the roughness; they still will not name the guilt.
- Love. What they read as harshness was firm love preparing them for blessing. Read God's ways rightly and you find them all love. Humiliation is the path to glory.
And we said to him, We are honest; we are not spies
The brothers are home, repeating to Jacob the defence they had given the governor of Egypt. Two questions hang over it: were the words ever true, and what did that governor intend to do about them?
The claim sounds reasonable. But the men making it had rejected their own brother. They were standing in front of him as they spoke, and did not know it.
"Joseph spoke roughly to them." The question of sin must be probed to the bottom. The cord that cuts a guilty conscience must be pulled a little tight. "You are spies." And now notice their defence — "We are all sons of one man. We are honest men." They stood in front of the one they had rejected and, in effect, killed. Yet they could talk of being honest men. What a picture of this world! Men can reject Christ, and then can pretend to keep the law.
They had come to the right man. Everything they needed was in his hands. But their plan was wrong, and so was their plea.
Their plan is to buy, and their plea, "We are honest men" (v. 11). As yet they know neither the love of Joseph's heart, nor the evil of their own hearts. They must learn that Joseph is too rich to sell to his own, and that they have nothing in themselves to plead. Their money will not buy grain, and they have no merit by which to claim it. They must learn that Joseph is ready to give every blessing. Yet they have forfeited every claim on him. Love is a giver when worthlessness has nothing to plead.
Read the report to Jacob as a whole and it collapses on itself. In this verse they claim honesty. A few words later they admit that one brother is gone — and they knew why.
The brothers have condemned themselves out of their own lips. They have protested that they are honest men, and in the same breath they say, "one is not." They know full well that if Joseph is gone from their lives, it is entirely because of their own wickedness. They stand in front of the one they had rejected, and their hearts are still unrepentant. Yet they protest that they are honest men.
The brothers report that the governor spoke roughly and treated them as spies. What was in his heart was completely different.
There was no thought of vengeance in Joseph; nor would he call on the law or trust its processes. With grace in his heart, he does not spare profitable lessons for the conscience of the guilty. So he speaks like a governor of Egypt — which is what he truly was. He makes himself a stranger to them for one reason only: their real good.
One writer speaks straight to the reader who thinks God is rough.
My friend, if you could interpret God's ways you would find them to be all love. You think He is rough. No, no, He loves you with all His heart, and He has given His Son for sinners like you and me.
Joseph does not argue with their claim. He answers it with a test. Older translations put their words as "we are true men."
They have said, "We are honest men." So Joseph will place them in a situation that will show whether at last they can act as true brothers and true sons. With the greatest wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they will have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
Another writer names the confession Joseph is working toward.
The charge of spying was not true. But Joseph was trying to stir their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are honest men, the sons of one man (v. 11). They must later be brought to confess that they have not been honest.
- Claim. They called themselves honest men while standing in front of the brother they had rejected. You cannot reject a person and then plead good character.
- Contradiction. The same report that claims honesty admits "one is not"; their own words condemn them.
- Currency. They came to buy, and they pleaded merit. They had to learn that Joseph gives, and that they had forfeited every claim on him.
- Correction. The rough voice was not vengeance. He made himself a stranger to them for no purpose but their real good.
- Confession. Joseph re-stages their old sin to test the claim. In the end they must say what he already knew: they had not been honest.
we are twelve brethren, sons of our father; one is not, and the youngest is this day with our father in the land of Canaan.
Back in Canaan, the ten brothers repeat to their father the words they had used before the governor of Egypt: twelve brothers, one gone, the youngest still at home. It sounds like a simple family census, but a crime is buried inside it. (The ESV reads "one is no more"; the writers quoted here use older translations that read "one is not.")
Their report is accurate in every detail except the one that matters. They never say what happened to the missing brother.
They said, "… and one is not." They were not willing to speak of Joseph whom they had sold.
In Egypt they had said these same words to the one man who already knew the truth:
Joseph keeps questioning them, and they tell him that their father had twelve sons. One of them is still at home, while the other, they say, "is not." How little they suspected that the governor knew better!
The phrase is not a lie, but it is not honesty either. It lets them mention their brother without admitting what they did to him.
"And one is not." That is their way of talking about getting rid of their brother. They stood in his presence and did not know it.
A few verses earlier they had called themselves honest men. Their own report undoes that claim.
The brothers have condemned themselves out of their own lips. They protest that they are true men, and in the same breath they say, "one is not." They know full well that if Joseph has passed out of their lives, their own wickedness is the whole reason. They stand in front of the one they had rejected with unrepentant hearts, and still claim to be honest men.
The brothers file their absent brother away as finished business. One writer reads their words as a picture of the Jewish people and the Christ they rejected.
Joseph's brothers must also learn that all their blessing depends upon the man of whom they say "one is not." They say, in effect: "We have not seen him for twenty years. He has dropped out of our lives for good. As far as we are concerned, 'He is not.'" In a day to come the Jewish people will have to learn the same lesson. All their blessing depends upon One they have set at nothing. "This Jesus is the stone that was rejected by you, the builders, which has become the cornerstone. And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:11-12).
Joseph's rough questions forced this half-confession out of them. The harshness had a purpose.
He was taking them in hand for the good work of restoring their souls, though the process is humbling and painful. Their conscience must be dealt with honestly, or nothing will be done… He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him in his own feelings. For now his love must be firm; the hour for melting and tenderness lies ahead of it.
Their father then picks up their own phrase in his grief. He does not know how exact it is.
Poor Jacob's reaction to it all, recorded in verse 36, is very characteristic of him. When he said, "You have bereaved me… Joseph is not…" he spoke more truly than he knew. As far as Joseph was concerned, the loss really was their doing. It must have been another stab to their consciences.
- Hidden. The brothers report twelve sons and one missing — true as far as it goes. They would not say what became of the brother they sold.
- Exposed. "One is not" is their phrase for getting rid of him, spoken in front of the only man who knew better.
- Condemned. They call themselves honest men and admit a missing brother in the same breath. Their own words convict them.
- Needed. The one they write off as gone is the one every blessing depends on. He is the rejected stone that became the cornerstone, the only name under heaven by which we must be saved.
- Loved. Joseph's hard words were love at work, not revenge. He had to reach their conscience before the hour of tenderness could come.
And the man, the lord of the land, said to us, Hereby shall I know that ye are honest leave one of your brethren with me, and take [for] the hunger of your households, and go,
The brothers are home, repeating to Jacob what the ruler of Egypt told them. One brother must stay behind. The rest may carry grain home, and they prove they are honest only by bringing back the youngest. These terms are a test. The question is what it would uncover in men who had sold their own brother years before.
The condition begins with the ruler's reason: this is how he will know whether they are honest men. They had used that word about themselves. One writer shows how the demand turns their own claim back on them.
The time has come when they will be tested, and Joseph will prove how far any real change has been worked in them. They have said, "We are honest men." So Joseph will put them in a situation that shows whether they can at last act as true brothers and true sons. With the greatest wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they shall have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
Their own words had already condemned them.
They have insisted that they are honest men, and in the same breath they say, "one is no more" — knowing full well that if Joseph has gone out of their lives, it is entirely because of their own wickedness. They stand in the presence of the one that they had rejected with unrepentant hearts, and yet claim they are honest men.
The demand has two halves: a hostage kept, and grain handed over for the hunger at home. The same writer reads Joseph's motive behind both.
Simeon is bound before their eyes. Yet it is love that ties the cords round Simeon, for even as he does it he turns aside to weep. The cords that bound him were cords of love. He also gave orders to fill their sacks with grain. He does not forget their needs, and so gives them a measure of relief. Even so, Simeon remains a prisoner.
Joseph had already wept over these men. Yet the terms he sent home with them were hard. One writer explains why his feeling did not soften them.
Joseph had such tender feeling towards his brothers that he wept over them. Even so, he did not let it turn him aside from stern dealing. That dealing was necessary, if he was to bring them to a proper spirit of repentance about the great wrong they committed against him, and against their father also, many years before. Joseph kept Simeon as a hostage. He sent the rest off with full loads of grain and food for the journey, but with each man's money placed in his sack.
One writer names what Joseph wanted all along, and what had to come first.
He would have them at ease before him, and at home with him; but repentance must first be worked in them. How did he bring this about? They must judge themselves for the past.
From here the whole story hangs on one name. One writer draws out where the real power lies.
In all this it is plain how everything turns on Benjamin and their state toward him. This is made the test of their condition. Yet the power to deliver them lies in Joseph's hands alone. All they go through over Benjamin works to awaken conscience and heart about their sin against Joseph.
The news the brothers bring is one more wound to their father. One writer reads Jacob's grief as the road to blessing, not the end of it.
Yet these blows which fell so heavily on his affections were the needed path for blessing and joy to all. And such is the end of the Lord for all that fear Him, however trying the way.
Kelly also notes how little the family understood at the time:
They were still far from understanding the way of the Lord with them. Even Jacob was taken up with the wounds to his heart. He at once recalled the loss of Joseph and Simeon as his reason for flatly refusing to let Benjamin go.
- Claim tested. They called themselves honest men. So Joseph set up a situation to show whether they could act as true brothers and true sons.
- Cords of love. Simeon was bound before their eyes. The same hand filled their sacks with grain — one love kept a hostage and fed a household.
- Love, not softness. Joseph wept over them and still held to stern terms. Repentance had to do its work in them first, before they could be at ease with him.
- One name. Everything from here turns on Benjamin. He is the test of their condition, and the power to deliver them stays with Joseph alone.
- The end of the Lord. The blows that fell on Jacob were the needed path to blessing and joy for them all, however hard the road looked at the time.
and bring your youngest brother to me, and I shall know that ye are not spies, but are honest. Your brother will I give up to you; and ye may trade in the land.
Jacob's sons come home from Egypt and repeat the ruler's terms to their father. They never guessed that this ruler was their own brother. Everything hangs on one condition — bring the youngest brother down — and on one promise: prove honest, and Joseph will hand back the brother he holds and open the land to them.
The words they report are their own defence thrown back at them. They had insisted they were honest men, and Joseph now takes that claim and builds a test around it.
They have condemned themselves out of their own mouths. They protested that they are honest men, and in the same breath they say, "one is no more." They know full well that if Joseph has passed out of their existence, it is entirely because of their own wickedness. They stand in the presence of the one they had rejected with unrepentant hearts, and yet protest they are honest men.
Another writer explains why Joseph charged them with spying in the first place.
When they asked to buy food, he accused them of being spies. The charge was not true, but Joseph was seeking to awaken concern in their hearts about their past dishonesty. They protest that they are true men, the sons of one man. They must later be brought to confess that they have not been true.
Joseph fixes on the one son still at his father's side. Commentators say the whole reconciliation turns on this demand.
There can be no restoration and no reconciliation until Joseph and Benjamin are united. There is relief, it is true, but no deliverance for Israel. He who was separated from his brothers, but is now in glory, must have the son of his father's right hand… But the truth is, there was another moral necessity to meet — how to set their hearts and their consciences right all round.
The demand also lands exactly where their old guilt lies. What they once did to one favoured son, they are now asked to risk with the other.
The point of this struck home to the brothers. They had robbed their father of Joseph. Now he is to lose the younger son on whom his love was specially set. It stabbed their consciences into action.
The harshness the brothers describe to Jacob was never cruelty. It was a deliberate method, and it cost the man who used it.
This was taking them up for the good work of restoring their souls, though the process is humbling and painful. Their conscience must be dealt with faithfully, if anything is to be done. Joseph aims at it at once. He makes himself a stranger to them. He speaks to them through an interpreter, and he speaks roughly… He must get their conscience working, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness is still ahead.
The terms hold two things together. One brother stays behind in chains, yet Joseph still meets their needs. Both the keeping and the giving serve the same end.
Simeon is bound before their eyes. But it is love that binds the cords round Simeon, for even as he does so he turns aside to weep… He does not forget their needs, and so gives them some relief. Even so, Simeon stays a prisoner… If they had eyes to see, they would learn from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition, gifts only stir up deeper fear.
Joseph's promise stands — the brother restored, the land open — but they do not have it yet. It waits until the work in them is finished.
Conscience had only just begun to work in them, and its work leads to repentance. That work needed to go much deeper. This is how God deals with us. He lets His correcting hand lie heavy on us until He carries the work through to completion. Then afterwards the blessing comes.
Famine drives the brothers back to Egypt, and one writer traces where that road ends.
His brothers had rejected him. Famine forces them, and the path of repentance and humiliation brings them to own him at last in glory — the one they had once rejected when he was connected with them. Benjamin is a picture of the power of the Lord on earth among the Jews. He is joined to the one who, unknown, held the power of the throne among the Gentiles… But this brings all the brothers into connection with Joseph.
- Claim — Their own words, "we are honest men," become the terms of their test. In the end they must confess the opposite.
- Condition — Benjamin must come down. Relief can be had without him, but no restoration and no reconciliation.
- Conscience — The rough treatment they report is love acting firmly. It aims at the conscience, because nothing is done until the conscience is faced.
- Cost — One brother stays bound while the sacks go home full. Severity and generosity work together, but guilty hearts read the kindness as a threat.
- Completion — The promised reunion waits until the work is deepened and finished. Then, and not before, the blessing is reached.
And it came to pass as they emptied their sacks, that behold, every man had his bundle of money in his sack; and they saw their bundles of money, they and their father, and were afraid.
Ten brothers went down to Egypt to buy grain. Only nine came home, and every coin they had paid was still in their sacks. The sight should have delighted them. It terrified them instead. Why can a free gift be the most alarming thing a guilty person ever receives?
The money never left their hands. The grain was not sold to them at all. One writer draws the plain lesson from the returned silver:
What is the lesson of the money in the sack? That if you are to get salvation, you cannot buy it. You are too poor to buy it, and God is too rich to sell it. Salvation must be God's free gift, and you must have it as a gift, or not have it at all.
A gift should produce thanks. Theirs produced fear. People still react the same way to free grace:
Both they and their father were afraid rather than thankful. They suspected some hidden motive behind it. It is the same with people generally. They are suspicious that there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is proclaimed.
The brothers had already admitted among themselves that they were guilty over Joseph. That memory is why kindness lands on them as dread. It also makes their fear different from Joseph's:
If they had eyes to see, they would learn from this that Joseph was a giver. But in their condition, gifts only stirred up deeper fear. Their hearts failed at the discovery of their money... They feared because they were offenders; Joseph feared in case he should offend. So again, they returned to Jacob. Each found his money in his sack, and "they were afraid." Joseph's goodness should have gladdened their hearts. But they are miserable and afraid in the presence of a goodness that their guilty consciences tell them they do not deserve.
Conscience was already stirring in them. One writer asks whose hand was behind the silver, and where it was all leading:
The clear purpose behind the money in every man's sack greatly increased the brothers' terror. Even one case alarmed them, now that conscience was awakening. That one might have seemed a strange accident; but nine could not be. Jacob too was afraid along with them. It appears that this was not mere goodwill on Joseph's part. He did it in fellowship with God, to work still more in consciences that had been frightened for so long. They were still far from understanding the way of the Lord with them... Yet these blows, which fell so heavily on Jacob's affections, were the needed path for blessing and joy to all. And such is the end of the Lord for all who fear Him, however hard the way.
They had put Egypt and its stern governor behind them. The money travelled home with them and kept the matter open:
The money in their sacks will not let them forget. They may now have turned their backs on that stranger in Egypt, the man who spoke so roughly to them and called their sin to mind. Yet God's eye was still on them, and God still had dealings with them.
Their next move shows how little they knew the giver. They carried the silver back to Egypt, treating a gift as a mistake:
Jacob did not imagine the food was to be had "without money and without price"... When they next went for food, Jacob told his sons to take a gift of the best fruits of the land. They were to carry double money, and also the money they had found in their sacks, in case it was an oversight. All this shows how little they knew the heart of Joseph, or the goodness of God.
- Given, not sold. The returned silver means the grain was never bought; you are too poor to buy salvation and God is too rich to sell it.
- Given, and feared. A guilty conscience turns grace into dread, not thanks. They suspected a catch where there was only a gift.
- Given, and repeated. One sack could pass as an accident; nine bundles could not, and that is what turned alarm into terror.
- Given, and pursued. The money travelled home with them so that God's dealings with them could not be left behind in Egypt.
- Given, and misread. They carried the silver back as an oversight, proving how little they knew the giver's heart. Yet that hard road was the needed path to blessing for all.
And Jacob their father said to them, Ye have bereaved me of children Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin! All these things are against me.
Jacob hears his sons' report and sees the returned silver in their sacks. One son is gone, one is held in Egypt, and now a demand hangs over the youngest. He reads it all as a verdict against him. His words are the honest cry of a grieving man. They are also a misreading of what God was doing.
Jacob says the same words about Joseph and about Simeon. The phrase is not about whether they exist. Scripture uses it in a fixed sense, and one writer traces that back to Enoch. (The ESV reads "is no more" and "All this has come against me"; older translations, which the writers quote, read "is not" and "All these things are against me.")
When God took Enoch from the earth, "he was not, for God took him" (Genesis 5:24). He was no longer on earth, but in the other world. Again, Jacob was asked to let Benjamin go down into Egypt. He cried out, "You have bereaved me of my children: Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and you will take Benjamin away" (Genesis 42:36). So the phrase was not has in Scripture a definite meaning… It says nothing about whether the person exists. It is a technical term about personal presence on earth.
Jacob says his sons have robbed him of his children. Years earlier he had accepted a different story about Joseph. The change in his words went to work on his sons' guilty consciences.
Jacob seems now for the first time to come to a suspicion that they had been guilty concerning Joseph. He had before said, "A fierce animal has devoured him," but now it is "You have bereaved me of my children." … All this must have stirred the arrow afresh in their hearts, so that it might still be doing its needed work there.
Jacob totals up three sons and calls the sum a loss. Read from the other end, the same three items are the stages of his rescue.
Jacob is not guilty, like his sons, but his feeble faith can see no trace of God's hand in all these circumstances… To sight and nature these things were against him. But they were the very means God was using to bless him. "Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and you will take Benjamin away." These are the things that were for him. Joseph lost to his father, rejected and sold, imprisoned and then raised high; Simeon held in prison; Benjamin taken from his father — these were all stages on the path to blessing… Had Jacob been able to persist in his thoughts he would have thwarted God in His ways of blessing, for Jacob says, "My son shall not go down."
The old man expected to lose Benjamin as he had lost Joseph. What lay just ahead was the opposite of everything he feared.
He never thought that the shadow of dreaded loss lying on his spirit was really the clouds beginning to break. Instead of losing Benjamin he was about to get Joseph back. And with Joseph back, every pinch of hunger would be over. He would live in the land Joseph supplied and receive from his plenty, even while the rest of the earth was starving. Ask Jacob, "Does God care?" Hear his answer, spoken to Joseph: "I never expected to see your face, and behold, God has let me see your offspring also" (Genesis 48:11).
One writer weighs Jacob's verdict against faith. Take away the losses, he says, and the blessing goes with them.
"All these things are against me" was not the language of faith; for without all those very things the Lord could not have made good His way of blessing.
Years later Jacob described his life in the opposite way. One writer sets his complaint here beside the promise that God works everything together for good.
He had yet to learn that all these things were part of God's plan for his ultimate good. That is why, at the end of his life, he could speak of "the angel who has redeemed me from all evil" (Genesis 48:16). The fact was that "all these things" were going to "work together for good," and so give us an effective illustration of the truth of Romans 8:28.
- Missing, not dead. "Is no more" (older versions: "is not") means absent from the scene, not gone from existence. Joseph, the son Jacob counted as lost, was alive and providing.
- Absent, and at work. Joseph gone, Simeon held, Benjamin demanded: Jacob mourned all three. Each was a stage God used to bring the whole family into blessing.
- A cry that convicts. "You have bereaved me of my children" was truer than Jacob knew. The charge kept working on the consciences of the sons who had sold Joseph.
- Sight counts losses; faith counts God. "All this has come against me" is not the language of faith. Without those very things the blessing could not have come.
- The end tells the truth. The man who could see nothing ahead but loss ended his life speaking of the angel who redeemed him from all evil.
And Reuben spoke to his father, saying, Slay my two sons if I bring him not back to thee give him into my hand, and I will bring him to thee again.
Famine has driven Jacob's sons to Egypt and back. Egypt's ruler is holding Simeon, and he demands that they bring Benjamin down. Reuben now tries to break his father's refusal with a startling pledge, and commentators judge his words very differently.
Reuben stakes the lives of his own sons on his promise. One writer notes that the pledge does not survive a few simple questions.
A common mark of the man who cannot make up his mind is his habit of strong speech and big promises. Indeed you can often spot him by that alone. It is good advice never to trust anyone who always speaks in superlatives. Reuben wants his father to send Benjamin with him. He says, "Kill my two sons if I do not bring him back to you." That sounded very emphatic — kill his own son, and his two sons at that! It is so forceful that it barely leaves room for a few mild questions. Who on earth wanted to kill his two sons? What comfort would this be to their already grieving grandfather? And the sacrifice he offered was not of himself but of someone else. One would also like to know what the two sons themselves thought about it.
Jacob does not argue with the offer. He turns it down, and the same writer sees that refusal as Jacob's verdict on his son's words.
His father soon showed what he thought. He says, "My son shall not go down with you." He knew Reuben, "unstable as water." He knew that weak actions balanced his strong words.
The same writer traces this to a deeper trait, and points back to the day Reuben found Joseph's pit empty.
Two other features stand out in Reuben's character. One of them is the misery of a mind that cannot decide. It never truly repents, yet it is always full of remorse over its weaknesses or its missed chances. When Reuben returned to the pit and found Joseph gone, "he tore his clothes … and said, The boy is gone, and I, where shall I go?"
Commentators differ here. Another writer sees Reuben's words as part of a work going on inside these brothers, and as a real step, not empty noise.
So the work goes on in their souls. They had been convicted, and godly sorrow was then producing fear in them. And very soon they showed much more than sorrow and fear. They had returned home and told their father one thing: they dared not hope for a fresh supply from Egypt unless Benjamin went with them. At that, Reuben and Judah at once stepped forward in a spirit of self-sacrifice. "Kill my two sons," says Reuben, "if I do not bring him back to you." "I will be surety for him," says Judah: "from my hand you shall require him."
Judah makes a second offer, and the two differ in where the risk falls.
The contrast in Judah's character is striking everywhere, and nowhere more than here. Judah makes no large offers at the expense of his sons. His offer is far more modest, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me … I will be surety for him." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go. In doing so he again showed that he could read character. Judah nobly kept his pledge: he stood forward in Egypt and offered himself as a substitute for Benjamin.
Jacob sees only losses piling up — Joseph, Simeon, and now the demand for Benjamin. One writer looks past the loss to what those blows were for.
Yet these blows which fell so heavily on his affections were the needed path to blessing and joy for them all. And such is the end of the Lord for all who fear Him, however hard the road. Joseph had known it too, and far more deeply than anyone. In this he was a picture of Christ, faithful among the unfaithful. His brothers and even Jacob were struck for their own faults, which is a very different thing.
- Big words. Reuben's pledge is loud. But nobody asks what his two sons thought, and it offers Jacob no comfort.
- Small risk. The lives Reuben stakes are not his own. Writers differ: some hear bluster, others hear a first stir of self-sacrifice.
- Known character. Jacob simply says no. He measured Reuben by his actions, not his big words — "unstable as water."
- Real pledge. Judah offers less and risks more, at his own cost. Jacob lets Benjamin go at once. Judah kept his word: he offered himself in Benjamin's place.
- Hidden purpose. The blows Jacob felt as pure loss were the path God was using to bring blessing and joy to them all.
But he said, My son shall not go down with you, for his brother is dead, and he alone is left; and if mischief should befall him by the way in which ye go, then would ye bring down my grey hairs with sorrow to Sheol.
Jacob has already lost Joseph. Egypt holds Simeon. Now the food runs out unless Benjamin goes too. His answer is a flat refusal. It raises a hard question: what do you do when God's path to blessing runs through the thing you cannot bear to lose?
Reuben tries to break the deadlock with a pledge of his own. It was worthless.
Reuben proposes that he will be responsible for Benjamin if Jacob sends him. He even offers the lives of his own two sons as a guarantee (v. 37). But such a thing would be folly. If Jacob lost his son, would the death of two grandsons comfort him? Jacob refuses. He says his son will not go down with them to Egypt. He fears that some harm will come to Benjamin, and that the grief would be the death of him (v. 38).
Jacob still has other sons. Benjamin is his last link to the wife he loved.
Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of Rachel, the wife Jacob had loved (29:18). Losing Benjamin would come closest to the loss of Joseph, the son Jacob loved "more than any other of his sons" (37:3). Now Benjamin is the most loved son: "and his father loves him," and "his life is bound up in the boy's life."
Jacob judged by what he could see. Yet the son he mourned as dead was alive, and every loss was a step God was using.
Jacob is not guilty, like his sons. But his weak faith can see no trace of God's hand in any of it… "Joseph is no more, and Simeon is no more, and now you would take Benjamin away." These were the very things that were for him. Joseph lost to his father, rejected and sold, imprisoned and then lifted high; Simeon held prisoner; Benjamin taken from his father — all these were stages on the path to blessing… Jacob could see nothing ahead but sorrow and the grave. At that very moment God was about to bring him into joy and blessing. If Jacob had held to his own thinking, he would have thwarted God's ways of blessing, for Jacob says, "My son shall not go down."
Jacob would learn better before the end of his life.
He had yet to learn that all these things were part of God's plan for his ultimate good. At the end of his life he could speak of "The angel who has redeemed me from all evil" (Genesis 48:16). "All these things" were going to "work together for good." So they give us a clear illustration of the truth of Romans 8:28.
Older translations put Jacob's last word as "the grave." The ESV keeps the Hebrew word Sheol. One writer uses this verse to show how much that word covers.
The mistake starts with a wrong idea of what the word sheol covers. It really includes the grave, as well as the region where spirits without their bodies wait for their resurrection. So Jacob cried out in the bitterness of his soul, when he was asked to part with Benjamin, that his sons would bring down his gray hairs in sorrow to the grave, that is, sheol (Gen. 42:38)… Sheol meant what we might call the whole underworld. Both body and soul were pictured as entering it.
Reuben's pledge failed. A quieter one worked.
Judah makes no large offers at the expense of his sons; what offer he makes is much more moderate, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me… I will be a pledge of his safety." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go. In that he showed again how well he could read a man. Judah honoured his pledge: he stood up in Egypt and offered himself in Benjamin's place.
Jacob must do what Abraham once did — put the son he loves into God's hands.
His love cannot give up its last hope. So he refuses to put the son of his old age into the hands of this unknown ruler of Egypt, who seems cruel and yet fears God. But he must do what Abraham did long before. He must place the child of promise into the hands of God. Then he will receive him back — not simply as he gave him up, but joined to his long-lost, never-forgotten son, through whom all the glory and blessing were to be secured.
- Grief. Jacob speaks as a man with one link left to Rachel; Benjamin's life is bound up with his own, so losing him feels like death.
- Blindness. His weak faith saw no trace of God's hand. Joseph gone, Simeon held, Benjamin demanded — these were the stages of the path to blessing.
- Danger. "My son shall not go down" would have blocked what God was doing. Jacob's own reading nearly cost him his rescue.
- Surety. Reuben's offer of two grandsons moved nothing. Judah's offer of himself opened Jacob's hand, and he kept it by standing in Benjamin's place.
- Return. What is placed in God's hands comes back — joined to the brother once thought lost, and sorrow to Sheol turned into joy.
And the famine was grievous in the land.
The famine still grips Canaan. The grain Jacob's sons carried home from Egypt is gone, and hunger is about to move a family that nothing else could move.
Jacob had already said no. His sons stayed silent and let the shortage speak for them.
The sons quietly left the difficulty until the family's need forced Jacob to speak. That gave Judah the opening to plead without being rude. Feeling would yield to famine. Yet God was in Jacob's thoughts, and to some extent in his sons' too, compared with the past. But the mercy that never fails would shine through the dark clouds.
The famine was not bad weather. Someone sent it, and hunger was walking guilty men straight to the brother they had wronged.
Years rolled on, and these brothers might have wrongly imagined that all was fine. But then came seven years of plenty, and seven years of scarcity! What did they mean? Who sent them? And what were they for? Wonderful providence! Unsearchable wisdom! The famine reaches Canaan. The calls of hunger bring the guilty brothers to the feet of the injured Joseph!
While there was still grain in the house, they could put the journey off. The end of the supply ended the delay.
This is a world of evil and sorrow through sin, and in it grace works for good. As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed on hold. But when their supply came to an end, they had to face facts. God was found above their hopes as much as above their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and He was abundant in fitting mercy for His own glory... It is a vivid picture of the situation. It shows the disturbed feeling on all sides that grew out of wrongdoing. And it shows God not only testing and correcting, but carrying out His own way for blessing all round.
Jacob's next instruction is cautious: buy a little. One writer weighs those two words.
Jacob says first that they shall not go; then he tells them to go again and buy a little food. The words "buy" and "little" usually go together. Someone who thinks of buying salvation only expects a little of it, and in fact there is no one on earth who can pay for more than a little. At last he tells them to take the best fruits of the land as a present for the man, a little balm and a little honey, and double the money, and then Benjamin as a kind of makeweight.
One writer applies the same words to believers today.
We firmly believe that with many the famine is severe in the land... We must weigh people and the world according to Scripture. We must settle it that there is nothing for our souls in what is seen and temporary. Only then are we in a fit state to look to the fullness of Christ as the only source of supply for our spiritual needs. When this is not clearly held, the believer easily slides into the world's refinements for present comfort. These include science, literature, the fine arts, and its so-called innocent amusements.
Commentators read this famine as a picture of a day still to come.
The famine years bring Joseph's brothers to repentance. After the deepest exercise of heart, Joseph makes himself known to them, and they find forgiveness and deliverance. So it will be during the tribulation of the last days of the present age.
Another writer looks at where the hunger drove them.
Israel is not always going to lie in their blood or be forgotten. Their sins and wrongdoing will soon be remembered no more. That will happen as soon as deep affliction brings them to Jesus and to repentance. So here the pressure of famine in Canaan leads his brothers to seek the help now placed in Joseph alone.
- Pressure. Feeling yielded to famine. The family's need forced Jacob to speak first.
- Providence. God sent seven years of plenty and seven of scarcity. The calls of hunger brought the guilty brothers to the feet of the brother they had injured.
- Emptiness. While food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed on hold. When the supply ran out, they had to face facts — and they found God above their fears.
- Poverty. "Buy" and "little" go together. Someone who thinks of buying salvation expects only a little, and no one on earth can pay for more.
- Person. Hunger drove them to the only help there was, placed in Joseph alone. So deep affliction will bring Israel at last to Jesus.
And it came to pass, when they had finished eating the grain which they had brought from Egypt, that their father said to them, Go again, buy us a little food.
The grain from the first trip to Egypt has run out, and the famine has not. Jacob's short order opens the chapter, and the writers read it as need driving people to the one man who can feed them.
Nothing changed in Jacob's household while the food held out. William Kelly traces what the empty sacks forced:
As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of sight. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts, and to find God above their hopes as much as their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and He was rich in fitting mercy for His own glory. They were completely forbidden to see the ruler's face without Benjamin.
One writer carries that delay beyond Egypt:
They will not go to their saviour until they have proved that every other source is used up. Even then they go very unwillingly. And everything suggests that, if they had known who he was, they would sooner have gone to the other end of the earth.
Jacob does not ask for plenty. He asks for a little, and one writer ties that small amount to the word "buy":
The words "buy" and "little" usually go together. Whoever thinks of buying salvation expects only a little of it. And in fact nobody on earth can pay for more than a little.
Hunger moves them, but it does not change their idea of the man in Egypt. The same writer says what is really at work:
The natural sinful heart hates to approach Christ. It will not go until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when it finally decides to go to Him, it comes with a totally wrong idea of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart, and with a gift scraped from famine-struck ground to appease Him and to "buy a little" instalment of favour — balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart, filled with tender and generous compassion toward them!
Jacob answers the famine with a plan of his own. Hamilton Smith names what that plan cannot imagine:
Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or of man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or of man. It cannot imagine a God so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give, or a man so ruined and helpless that he can only receive.
The same writer adds what a plan of our own costs us:
Jacob thinks of the goodness of Joseph that had returned their money, and can only imagine "it was an oversight." But there is no oversight with God. The oversight is all on man's side. Blinded by his own doings he overlooks what God is doing.
The errand is to buy a little food. What waits at the end of the journey is on a different scale:
Their plan was only to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. Their plan was to buy grain and hold a feast among themselves. His plan was to spread a feast for them to share with him. Like the brothers of Joseph, we are just as slow to take in God's thoughts of blessing. We would be content to get the forgiveness of sins, and salvation from hell. But how far short of God's thoughts that is! His thought is to have us with Himself, to feast with Him in His home.
One writer brings Jacob's shortage home to the reader:
You may see beautiful things in Scripture. You may have memorised some of the sweet incidents found there, know many of its remarkable historical records, have answers to what many call difficult passages of the Word, and know that you belong to God through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. Jacob knew that he was an object of divine love and care. But he also felt deeply that balm and honey, spices and nuts were good in their proper places, and yet they were not grain, and could not satisfy his pressing need. But here Jacob, like many people now, made a serious mistake. He did not imagine that the food could be had "without money and without price."
- Famine moves. While the grain lasted, the family could shelve the hard condition. The empty sack forced them to face the facts.
- Little asked. Buying and smallness go together. Whoever thinks of paying for supply expects only a little of it.
- Dread misreads. They come with a wrong idea of the man they are approaching. They bring a gift to appease him, knowing nothing of his heart toward them.
- Plans blind. Busy with his own plan, Jacob writes the returned money off as an oversight. He misses what Joseph has already given.
- Grace exceeds. They travel to buy grain for a meal of their own. Joseph is setting a table for them to share with him.
And Judah spoke to him, saying, The man did positively testify to us, saying, Ye shall not see my face, unless your brother be with you.
The grain from Egypt is gone, the family must go back, and Judah reminds his father of the ruler's one condition. But why did that ruler — Joseph himself — tie the sight of his face to one absent brother?
The ruler had made this demand on the first visit. It only bit once the grain ran out. Hunger is what forced the family to face his terms.
This is a world of evil and sorrow caused by sin, and in it grace works for good. As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of sight. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts. Then they found God above their hopes as much as above their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and His mercy was rich and fitted to them, for His own glory. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt, and it is not Reuben but Judah who states the case. The ruler had flatly forbidden them to see his face without Benjamin.
Notice which brother speaks for the family here.
This time Judah — the one who had taken the lead in selling Joseph — protests to his father. The governor of Egypt had firmly decreed that if they returned without Benjamin, he would refuse them. So Judah said they would not go unless they could take Benjamin.
Joseph had a purpose in it. The condition was a test: had these men changed since the day they sold their brother in the fields of Dothan?
Times have changed and circumstances are different. The setting of the picture is completely new. But in principle, the story of the fields of Dothan will be played out again in the land of Egypt. Will those ten men once again abandon their brother, and invent some story to deceive their father? Has true repentance been worked in the hearts of those brothers? This is the great question that Joseph will solve in their second visit to Egypt.
Jacob blames his sons for ever mentioning a younger brother. Their reply shows who was really driving those questions.
"Why," says Jacob, speaking as the natural man speaks, "did you tell the man you had another brother?" (v. 6). Their reply shows the way grace had taken: "The man questioned us closely about ourselves and our family" (v. 7). Grace can forgive everything, but grace will bring everything into the light.
One writer turns this on the reader, with a warning about putting it off.
My friend, God means you to have everything out sooner or later. If you put it off, it will be an awful thing to have it out with the Lord Jesus Christ at the judgment-seat. Then condemnation can be the only outcome.
Writers see more than family history in the two brothers at the centre of this demand.
Joseph's brothers had rejected him, a picture of Israel's rejection of the Lord Jesus. Joseph is therefore a type of Christ in suffering before exaltation. Benjamin ("son of the right hand") is a type of Christ, the Messiah, reigning in glory.
The two cannot be separated, and only one of them holds the power.
A Christ who is simply triumphant and reigning on earth — that is the Benjamin they have among them, whether in the days of the Lord's rejection or in the last days. They were ready for the conqueror. The Sufferer they have refused, because they do not know their own deep need. Yet the two are really one... and for them the Conqueror cannot come until they receive the Sufferer. Power lies with Joseph, not with Benjamin.
- Need moves first. The condition sat untouched while the grain lasted. Only when the food ran out did the family face the ruler's terms.
- The terms hold. There was no negotiating clause — without the brother, no face, no food, no way through.
- Guilt speaks. The brother who once led the selling of Joseph now states the case that will bring the family back to him.
- Nothing stays hidden. The man's close questions were grace at work. Grace forgives everything, but it brings everything into the open first.
- The brother is the key. In the picture, the glorious Messiah they expect cannot be theirs until they receive the Sufferer they rejected. Power lies with Joseph, not Benjamin.
If thou wilt send our brother with us, we will go down and buy thee food;
The grain from Egypt is gone, and the ruler there set one term for any more: bring the youngest brother. Judah now puts that term to his father, and behind the bargain God is at work in guilty consciences.
The brothers do not offer Benjamin's going as one option among several. It is the only ground on which they dare to hope for food, and saying so costs them something.
So the work goes on in their souls. They had been convicted, and godly sorrow was now working fear in them. Very soon they show much more than sorrow and fear. They had returned home and told their father that they dared not hope for a fresh supply from Egypt unless Benjamin went with them. At once Reuben and Judah stand forward in the spirit of self-sacrifice.
Judah is the one who speaks for the family here. Set his care for Benjamin beside the way he once treated Joseph, and the change stands out.
For the moment Jacob refused outright to part with Benjamin. But Genesis 43 shows us how his stubborn refusal had to give way before the hard logic of facts. They could not get the food they needed unless Jacob let Benjamin go with his brothers down to Egypt. In the words of Judah in verses 8 and 9, we find an attitude towards him quite the opposite of his attitude towards Joseph years before. A repentant spirit was beginning to show its fruits.
Nothing happens in this family until hunger makes it happen. Yet their delay did not defeat God's purpose for them.
This is a world of evil and sorrow caused by sin, and it is here that grace works for good. As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of sight. But when their supply ran out, they had to face facts. They found God above their hopes as much as above their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, yet His mercy was abundant and suited to His own glory. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt, and it is not Reuben but Judah who states the case.
Their unwillingness runs deeper than their father's refusal.
They will not go to their saviour until they have proved every other source is used up. Even then they go very unwillingly. Everything suggests that if they had known who he was, they would sooner have gone to the other end of the earth.
Judah's offer is a deal: send the brother, and they will pay for the food. Watch the two words Jacob puts together when he finally agrees.
Jacob says first that they shall not go. Then he says, "Go again, buy us a little food." The words "buy" and "little" usually go together. Someone who thinks of buying salvation only expects a little of it, and in fact no one on earth can pay for more than a little. At last he says, "If it must be so now, do this: take some of the best fruits of the land in your bags, and carry a present down to the man."
There is a reason a person reaches for money first.
Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or of man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or of man. It cannot imagine a God so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give, or a man so ruined and helpless that he can only receive.
Commentators see in these two brothers two pictures of one Person.
Joseph's brothers had rejected him, a picture of Israel's rejection of the Lord Jesus. Joseph is therefore a type of Christ in suffering before exaltation. Benjamin ("son of the right hand") is a type of Christ, the Messiah, reigning in glory. When Israel is awakened again by their need, they will still not recognise Christ as the rejected Sufferer. Even thoughts of a glorious Messiah will lie almost dormant in their minds.
- Need — the brothers act only when the last of the grain is gone; hunger, not willingness, sets them on the road.
- Condition — Benjamin must go with them. It is the only ground on which they dare to hope for food.
- Change — Judah now treats Benjamin in the opposite spirit to the one he showed Joseph years before. Repentance is beginning to show its fruits.
- Mistake — they plan to buy a little food. Nature never thinks of God as a giver and man as a receiver.
- Reach — the story points forward. Joseph pictures Christ suffering; Benjamin, "son of the right hand," pictures Christ reigning.
but if thou do not send [him], we will not go down, for the man said to us, Ye shall not see my face, unless your brother be with you.
Judah is not bargaining with his father. He reports one term set by the ruler of Egypt, and he states it twice. Either Benjamin goes with them, or the family stays home and starves.
Empty sacks forced the family to move. One writer sees God at work behind that pressure.
All this happens in a world of evil and sorrow caused by sin, where grace works for good. As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of the way. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts. And they found God above their hopes as much as their fears, turning their faults to their profit, rich in fitting mercy for His own glory. The sons left it to their father to suggest a new trip to Egypt, and it is Judah, not Reuben, who states the case. The ruler had forbidden them to see his face without Benjamin.
The man in Egypt had not picked a name at random. His choice put the brothers to the test.
The men, however, were speaking the truth as far as they knew it. Their confession gave a good chance to put them to the test. Benjamin was a son of Rachel, as Joseph himself was, and so Jacob loved him especially. Joseph would demand that they take Benjamin from his father's side, and he would hold one of them as a hostage until they brought Benjamin. How would the brothers react to that?
Nothing in these men wanted to go back to Egypt. One writer says God is willing to be sought on those terms.
God takes His aim in a time of need and sorrow, as is common in the ways of the God of all grace. For He does not refuse to be sought by us, when we have no help for it. It was so with the prodigal son; it is so with Joseph's brothers... Joseph's brothers have no help for it now, and down to Egypt and Egypt's storehouses they must go. It may be mean, it may be base, for the heart of man to turn to God only when everything else is gone. But the Lord will be found by this base and selfish heart. He will stoop to enter, as someone puts it, by these despised doors of nature.
Jacob had already said no once. Here his refusal runs into a wall, and Judah speaks in a new voice.
For the moment Jacob refused to part with Benjamin. But Genesis 43 shows how his stubborn refusal had to give way before the hard logic of facts. They could not get the food they needed unless Benjamin went down to Egypt with his brothers. In Judah's words in verses 8 and 9, we see an attitude towards Benjamin that is the exact opposite of his attitude towards Joseph years before. A repentant spirit was beginning to disclose its fruits.
The brothers wanted food; the terms were about a face. Joseph's own aim went far past a sale.
Joseph pays not the slightest heed to their gifts, he does not touch their money, he will not accept Benjamin as a ransom. He ignores their plan completely and begins to act from his own heart... The purposes of Joseph far transcend the plans of his brothers. Their plan was to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. Their plan was to buy grain and hold a feast among themselves. His plan was to spread a feast for them to enjoy with him.
One writer reads this dealing as a picture of something still ahead for Israel.
So it will be with the generation to come of Israel's sons. They are guilty of a far deeper wrong, and against one beyond measure greater than Joseph... The repentance of that coming day will be just as deep, since the trials they must pass through under God's government will be immense. But the outcome the Lord brings will be rich in promised blessing, not only for Israel but for all the nations of the earth.
- Need opens the door. While the grain held out, the family could ignore the ruler's term. An empty store forced them to face it.
- Need is not despised. God does not refuse to be sought by people who come only because they have no other option — He enters by those doors.
- The cost is the beloved. The one term was the son the father could least spare. The demand went straight to the brothers' consciences.
- The yielding produces fruit. Jacob's refusal broke. The brother who once sold Joseph now speaks up for Benjamin — repentance starting to show its fruit.
- The aim is a face, not food. The condition was never to shut them out but to bring the whole family into the presence of the man they had wronged.
And Israel said, Why did ye deal [so] ill with me [as] to tell the man whether ye had yet a brother?
The grain from Egypt is gone, and the ruler there will sell no more unless Benjamin comes too. Jacob's protest turns grief into blame — but were his sons wrong to tell the truth about their family?
Nothing moves in this household until the sacks are empty. One writer traces how hunger ended the delay, and what the family found on the other side of it.
As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed on hold. But when their supply came to an end, the family had to face the facts. God was found to be above their hopes as much as above their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and was abundant in suitable mercy for His own glory. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt; and not Reuben but Judah states the case. They were absolutely forbidden to see the ruler's face without Benjamin. Then Israel gave way to their complaint; for they could well plead the ruler's searching questions.
Jacob's question treats honesty as the mistake. One writer explains why he could not see it any other way.
It all shows how impossible it is for nature to understand the ways of grace. "Why," says Jacob, speaking as the natural man speaks, "tell the man that you had another brother?" (v. 6). Their reply shows the way that grace had taken: "The man asked very closely after us, and of our kindred." Grace can forgive all, but grace will have all brought to light (v. 7).
The sons had not blundered. The governor's questions searched out the very fact Jacob wishes had stayed hidden.
The brothers held nothing back. Another writer turns that into a warning for anyone who keeps putting it off.
My friend, God means you to have everything out sooner or later. If you put it off, it will be an awful thing to have it out with the Lord Jesus Christ at the judgment seat. Condemnation can be the only issue then.
Jacob's complaint shows what he thinks of the man in Egypt: someone to handle with care, not someone to trust. One writer sees the human heart itself in that fearful approach.
Here we see in a saint the worst side of the natural sinful heart, whether in Jew or Gentile. It hates to approach Christ, and will not do so until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when at last it decides to go to Him, it comes with a total misconception of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart, and with a gift scraped from famine-stricken ground to win favour and to "buy a little" instalment of it. But how little they know of that great heart filled with tender and generous compassion towards them!
The story looks forward as well as back. One writer reads this family scene as a picture of what Israel still has to pass through.
So it will be with the generation to come of Israel's sons. They are guilty of far deeper failure, and against One immeasurably greater than Joseph… And the repentance of the coming day will be just as deep, for the necessary trials they must pass through in God's government will be immense. But the end of the Lord will be rich in promised blessing, not only for Israel but for all the nations of the earth.
Writers differ in emphasis. Some read the chapter as a picture of repentance in any conscience. Others read it as a preview of Israel's future.
- Famine. The dreaded step stayed on hold while the food lasted; when the supply ran out, the family had to face the facts.
- Blame. Jacob treats the truth as the problem. That is how nature speaks, because it cannot understand the ways of grace.
- Light. The brothers only answered what they were asked. Grace can forgive everything, but grace will have everything brought out into the open.
- Delay. God means everyone to have it all out sooner or later. Put it off, and you meet it at the judgment seat, where condemnation is the only outcome.
- Mercy. The heart they braced themselves against was full of tender compassion. The deep repentance of a later day will end in blessing for Israel and for all nations.
And they said, The man asked very closely after us, and after our kindred, saying, Is your father yet alive? have ye a brother? And we told him according to the tenor of these words. Could we at all know that he would say, Bring your brother down?
Jacob has just blamed his sons for telling Egypt's ruler about Benjamin. They answer that the man questioned them closely about the family, and that they could not have guessed he would demand their brother.
The brothers did not offer Benjamin's name. The man drew it out with questions about their father and their family. Why would the ruler of Egypt care? One writer sets Jacob's complaint beside their reply:
All this shows how impossible it is for nature to understand the ways of grace. "Why," says Jacob, speaking as the natural man does, "tell the man whether you had a brother?" (v. 6). Their reply shows the way grace had taken: "The man asked very closely after us, and of our kindred." Grace can forgive everything, but grace will have everything brought to light (v. 7).
The phrase quoted there is from an older translation; the ESV renders it, "The man questioned us carefully about ourselves and our kindred."
Joseph knew these men. They had no idea who he was. One writer asks what all the hard questioning was for:
Joseph, when he saw them, knew them, but they did not know him. He had purposes of grace toward them, as his conduct all through proved. There was no bitterness in the one they had treated so cruelly, and no desire for revenge. He wanted them at ease before him, and at home with him; but repentance had to be worked in them first. How did he bring this about? They had to judge themselves for the past.
Jacob resisted sending Benjamin. What changed his mind was not argument but hunger:
It is in a world of evil and sorrow through sin that grace works for good. As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed in the background. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts. They found God above their hopes as much as above their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and He was abundant in fitting mercy to His own glory.
Another writer makes the same point about the effect of pressure on a stubborn heart:
For the moment Jacob flatly refused to part with Benjamin, but Genesis 43 shows us how his stubborn refusal had to give way before the hard logic of facts.
Jacob's own answer is to buy the man's goodwill. One writer sees in that plan how nature always thinks about God:
Taken up with their own doings, Jacob unfolds his plan. "Take," he says, "a present" to appease the man. "Take double money" to buy the grain. "Take also your brother, and get up and go again to the man." Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or of man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or of man. It cannot imagine a God so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give, or a man so ruined and helpless that he can only receive.
One writer quotes this exchange and then turns it on the reader:
My friend, God means you to have everything out sooner or later. If you put it off, it will be a terrible thing to have it out with the Lord Jesus Christ at the judgment seat. Condemnation can be the only outcome then.
One writer sees in Joseph and his brothers a picture of what is still ahead for Israel:
The same will be true of the generation of Israel's sons still to come. Their failure went far deeper, and it was against One immeasurably greater than Joseph... The repentance of that coming day will match it. The trials they must pass through under God's government, in payment for what they did, will be immense. But the end the Lord brings about will be rich in promised blessing, not only for Israel but for all the nations of the earth.
- Questioned. The brothers did not offer Benjamin's name. The ruler asked about their father and their family, and they answered his questions.
- Purposed. Behind the hard questions was a heart with no bitterness in it. Joseph wanted these men at ease and at home with him, but repentance had to come first.
- Exposed. Grace forgives everything. Grace also brings everything to light, so nothing stays hidden.
- Pressed. While the food lasted, the family avoided the issue. An empty store forced the facts out, and God turned their faults to their profit.
- Settled. What must come out at the judgment seat can come out now, before the One who already knows it all.
And Judah said to Israel his father, Send the lad with me, and we will arise and go, that we may live, and not die, both we and thou and our little ones.
Jacob's food has run out a second time. His sons cannot get more unless Benjamin, the son Jacob will not part with, goes down to Egypt with them. Judah's words break the deadlock. The man who once sold one brother now puts his own name on the line for another.
The family delayed while the grain held out. When it ran out, they could no longer dodge the choice.
As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of sight. But when their supply ran out, they had to face facts. They found God to be above their hopes as much as their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, and He was rich in mercy that suited their need, to His own glory. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt; and it is not Reuben but Judah who states the case.
Jacob had already said no. Hunger overruled him.
For the moment Jacob refused outright to part with Benjamin. But Genesis 43 shows us how his stubborn refusal had to give way before the hard logic of facts. They could not get the food they needed unless Benjamin went down to Egypt with his brothers.
Judah's offer sounds smaller than a grand promise, yet it costs him more. It is the one Jacob accepts.
Judah's character stands out by contrast everywhere, and nowhere more than here. Judah makes no large offers at the expense of his sons; what he offers is much more moderate, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me … I will be surety for him." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go.
The same brother appears at both turning points in Joseph's story.
Judah was directly guilty of selling him to the Gentiles; when Benjamin comes into the picture, Judah is identified with him — he stands surety for him.
Hole looks past the words to what produced them.
In the words of Judah, recorded in verses 8 and 9, we find an attitude towards him quite the opposite to his attitude towards Joseph years before. A repentant spirit was beginning to show its fruits.
What he had refused to do for one brother, he now volunteers for another.
But his words to his father Jacob, about sending Benjamin to Joseph, show us something in Judah's character that we can admire… What he failed to do for Joseph, he now does for Benjamin. He stands surety for his safety.
Judah does not just promise to try. He takes the whole weight of what happens on himself. That role is called being a surety — older translations use the same word for Jesus in Hebrews 7:22.
Hebrews 7:22 says that Jesus was made "the guarantor of a better covenant." Verse 9 of our chapter gives an excellent picture of what being a surety involves. If there is any breakdown, the blame for it must lie for ever on the surety, and he must answer for all of it. If there were any breakdown in the new covenant, the blame would rest upon Christ for ever. But no! Its stability and the security of all its blessings are guaranteed for eternity.
Judah later kept his word. He offered to become a slave in Benjamin's place. Yet an offer to pay is not the same as a price paid.
Judah's appeal is not empty rhetoric; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. "Blot me, I pray you, out of your book," said Moses. "I could wish myself accursed," said Paul. "Let me be a slave instead of Benjamin," says Judah, in effect. All these declared what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
- Famine speaks. Jacob's refusal held only while the grain lasted. Then hunger forced the family to face what they had avoided.
- Judah speaks. Not Reuben but Judah states the case, and he stakes himself rather than anyone else — so Jacob trusts him at once.
- Repentance speaks. The man who sold Joseph now binds himself to Benjamin; changed words are the first fruit of a changed heart.
- Suretyship speaks. A surety carries the blame for any failure for ever. Hebrews gives Jesus that name: guarantor of a better covenant.
- Christ speaks last. Judah offered to pay; the wounds of Christ show a price already paid.
I will be surety for him of my hand shalt thou require him; if I bring him not to thee, and set him before thy face, then shall I be guilty toward thee for ever.
Famine forces Jacob's hand a second time, and the brothers cannot return to Egypt without Benjamin — the one son their father will not risk. Judah breaks the deadlock by offering himself as the pledge — older translations call him the surety — and that one word carries far beyond a family argument.
The voice that speaks here is not a neutral one. Judah had once taken the lead in getting rid of Joseph, and the offer he now makes reverses that history point for point.
This time Judah — the one who had taken the lead in selling Joseph — insists to his father that the governor of Egypt had made an absolute ruling. If they came back without Benjamin, they would be turned away. So he said they would not go unless they could take Benjamin. He offered to be surety for Benjamin (v. 9). He said that if he did not bring Benjamin back safe, he, Judah, would bear the blame forever.
Something in Judah had changed since then:
In Judah's words in verses 8 and 9 we see an attitude towards Benjamin that is the exact opposite of his attitude towards Joseph years before. A repentant spirit was starting to show its fruit.
The verse spells out the terms of the pledge in three clauses: Judah takes responsibility, Jacob may demand Benjamin back from him personally, and failure means permanent blame.
In Hebrews 7:22 we read of Jesus being made a surety of a better covenant. Verse 9 of our chapter is an excellent illustration of what being a surety involves. If there is any breakdown, the blame for it must lie for ever on the surety, and everything must be required at his hand.
The size of the offer is not what won Jacob over. What mattered was who carried the risk.
Judah makes no grand offers at the expense of his sons. His offer is much more modest, and the risk is his own. Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go.
The pledge was soon put to the test:
Events were arranged so that the apparent guilt fell on Benjamin, the one Judah had stood surety for before Jacob. That is what brought Judah forward as the spokesman.
A surety proves himself when the debt falls due.
Judah kept his pledge with honour when he stood up in Egypt and offered himself as a substitute for Benjamin.
One writer applies the same promise to Christ and the new covenant:
Turn to Genesis 43 and look at verse 9, and the force of the word "surety" will be plain. The new covenant is a declaration of the grace of God. It is as if our Lord said, "If it should ever fail or come to an end, let Me bear the blame for it for ever." It will stand, because as Hebrews 13 says, it is the everlasting covenant.
The old agreement had no one standing in that place:
The old covenant had no surety. The deal was made and both sides agreed to it. God would never fail to keep His side, but nobody could guarantee that the people would keep theirs — a shaky foundation indeed.
- Repentance speaks. The brother who sold Joseph now stands security for Benjamin. A changed heart was showing its fruit.
- A surety is named. He carries the whole responsibility. The blame falls on him for ever, and everything is demanded from his hand.
- A surety is trusted. Judah risks himself and not his sons, so Jacob lets Benjamin go at once.
- A surety is proved. In Egypt he redeemed his pledge, offering himself as a substitute so that his brother could go free.
- A surety secures the covenant. What Judah was to Jacob, Jesus is to God. He is the guarantee the old covenant never had, and so the new one stands for ever.
For had we not lingered, we should now certainly have returned already twice.
Judah's final argument to his father is not about Benjamin at all — it is about the clock. He says the delay has already cost them a whole round trip of food — so why did a starving household wait so long to move?
Jacob had already said no. What changed his mind was not persuasion but hunger.
For the moment Jacob refused to part with Benjamin. But Genesis 43 shows how his stubborn refusal had to give way before the hard logic of facts. They could not get the food they needed unless Jacob let Benjamin go down to Egypt with his brothers.
William Kelly reads the timing of Judah's appeal, and what lay behind the famine:
The sons said nothing about the difficulty until the family's need forced Jacob to speak. That gave Judah his chance to plead without being out of place. Feeling would yield to famine. Yet God was in Jacob's thoughts, and to some degree in his sons' thoughts too, compared with the past. But the mercy that never fails would shine through the dark clouds.
L. M. Grant works out what the delay cost:
Judah, the one who had taken the lead in selling Joseph, adds that if they had not delayed so long, they could have made the second journey and returned by this time.
One writer draws out why the brothers waited so long:
But they will not go to their saviour until they have proved that every other source is empty. Even then they go with great unwillingness. Everything shows that, if they had known who he was, they would rather have gone to the other end of the earth.
The same writer hears something in Jacob's words "buy us a little food," and in the gift of balm and honey:
The words "buy" and "little" usually go together: anyone who thinks of buying salvation expects only a little of it, and in fact no one on earth can pay for more than a little… The natural sinful heart hates to approach Christ. It will not come until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when at last it decides to go to Him, it comes with a total misconception of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart, and with a gift scraped from famine-stricken ground to appease Him and buy a little instalment of favour — balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart, filled with tender and kind compassion towards them!
The brother who offers his own neck for Benjamin is the one who had once sold Joseph.
But his words to his father Jacob, about sending Benjamin to Joseph, show us something in Judah's character that we can admire. He said, "Send the boy with me… I will be surety for him; from my hand you shall require him: if I do not bring him back to you, then let me bear the blame forever." What he failed to do for Joseph, he now does for Benjamin. He stands surety for his safety.
F. B. Hole reads the same offer as evidence of a change inside Judah:
In the words of Judah, recorded in verses 8 and 9, we find an attitude towards Benjamin that is the exact opposite of his attitude towards Joseph years before. A repentant spirit was beginning to show its fruit.
Scripture later takes up the word Judah uses and applies it to Christ. Hebrews 7:22 calls Jesus the surety of a better covenant. The ESV translates that word "guarantor."
In verse 9 of our chapter we have an excellent illustration of what suretyship involves. If anything breaks down, the blame must lie forever on the surety, and he must answer for all of it. Were there any breakdown in the new covenant, the blame of it would rest upon Christ forever. But, no! Its stability and the security of all its blessings are ensured for eternity.
- Delay. Judah's arithmetic is the sting of the verse: by now the grain could have fed the family twice over. Only their own hesitation stood in the way.
- Hunger. What argument could not do, an empty sack did. Jacob's refusal gave way to the hard logic of facts: feeling yielded to famine.
- Reluctance. The heart goes to its saviour last, only after every other source runs dry. Even then it comes misreading His nature.
- Surety. The deadlock broke when one man made himself answerable. The brother who led in selling Joseph now pledged his own name for Benjamin — a repentant spirit showing its fruit.
- Guarantee. A surety carries the blame forever. Commentators apply this to Christ, surety of a better covenant, whose blessings stand secure for eternity.
And their father Israel said to them, If it is then so, do this take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a gift a little balsam and a little honey, tragacanth and ladanum, pistacia-nuts and almonds.
Hunger forces Jacob's hand at last, and he lets Benjamin go to Egypt — but not empty-handed. He sends a gift ahead to the man in charge there, and commentators read that gift two ways: as a father's care, and as a picture of how the heart approaches someone it does not know.
The items are small luxuries, not staples. One writer explains why the family still had them, and what sending them cost:
These things would not be affected by the famine as quickly as the grain crops. Still, sending them would no doubt cost some sacrifice.
Balm heads the list. One dictionary explains what it was and what it stood for:
The gum of the balsam bush, of great medicinal value. Gilead was noted for producing it. It is used as a proverb to set out the healing God had for His people if they would really turn to Him.
Jacob's opening words give away his frame of mind. The plan he forms rests on what his sons can do:
Then Israel unfolds his plan. And, though he was a man of faith, he now speaks as the man of nature does. "If it must be so, then do this." Jacob's plan depends on man's doings. He needs grain. He wants Simeon released and Benjamin kept safe. So he proposes a way for his sons to bring it all about by their own efforts. And this is still the way man takes, and has always taken, to get blessing from God.
The gift is meant to soften a man the brothers do not know. One writer finds the same instinct in every heart that comes to Christ:
Here we see in a believer the worst side of the natural sinful heart, whether in Jew or Gentile. It hates to approach Christ. It will not go until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when it finally resolves to go to Him, it comes with a total misunderstanding of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart, and with a gift scraped together from famine-stricken ground to win favour and to "buy a little" instalment of it — balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart, filled with tender and generous compassion toward them! ... A sinner who rests only on Christ has more settled peace — though not a more settled salvation — than one who wants to add his own good works, his money, balm and honey. Whatever we add to Christ we take away from Him.
Hunger moves them, not faith. One writer asks what their present assumes about God:
Joseph's brothers put off going down. But hunger is a cruel master, so, willing or not, they feel they must go... How many people think they must bring God a present. You say that is very foolish. Yes, but you think you can win God over by what you bring — and a way out of the difficulty is suggested. Take Him a present. You are too late. All His claims have been met in the death of His Son, and His heart is free to come out now with the fullest blessing.
Behind the gift lies a deeper inability:
Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or of man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or of man. It cannot conceive of God as so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give, or of man as so helplessly ruined that he can only receive.
The family still has balm, honey, spices and nuts. None of it is food. One writer applies that to the reader:
Like dear old Jacob, you may not be in complete destitution. You may have some balm and honey, spices and myrrh, nuts and almonds; but these things are not grain, and they cannot take its place... Jacob knew he was an object of divine love and care. But he also felt deeply that balm and honey, spices and nuts were good in their proper place. They were not grain, and they could not satisfy his pressing need.
Jacob asks for mercy only after everything else is packed:
He puts his plans first and God Almighty second. If anything is lacking in his plans, he expresses the pious hope that God's mercy will make up what is missing... But as with Jacob, so with men. Their own plans leave them in hopeless uncertainty. Jacob had to confess that after all he is quite unsure of the results.
- Little — Jacob sends a little balm, a little honey. Whoever hopes to buy favour expects only a little in return.
- Least — the best fruits of a starving land still cost him something. Yet none of them is grain, and good things in their place cannot meet his need.
- Blind — nature cannot think of God as a giver or of man as a receiver. So it brings a present when it should only receive.
- Late — a present cannot buy what Christ has already paid for. The death of God's Son met every claim, and His heart is now free to give.
- Last — Jacob puts his plans first and God second. Plans put first leave the soul uncertain to the end.
And take other money in your hand, and the money that was returned to you in the mouth of your sacks, carry back in your hand perhaps it is an oversight.
Jacob at last lets Benjamin go to Egypt, carrying a gift, double silver, and the silver found in the sacks. Commentators read Jacob's guess about that silver as a picture of how people approach God before they know His heart.
The arrangement has two parts: the returned silver goes back, and fresh silver goes with it.
Besides this, Jacob tells his sons to take back the money they found returned in their sacks. They must also take double the amount of money needed for the food they wanted to buy (v. 12). In sending Benjamin too, he calls on the name of God Almighty. He asks for God's compassion before Egypt's governor, so that Simeon might go free and Benjamin also come home safely.
Jacob also wants the whole errand handled honestly.
Now Israel gives in, however much it hurts his heart. He gives careful instructions that everything must be done honestly and properly. Then he gives up his beloved son — the more beloved because of the one who is missing.
Joseph himself had put the silver back in their sacks. Jacob assumes someone made a mistake.
Before starting, they make their plans. They want to win over the Governor of Egypt and keep Benjamin safe. Judah promises to answer for Benjamin himself, and they prepare the present for the Governor. They treat Joseph's earlier kindness in returning their money as a possible "oversight" (v. 12). All shows how impossible it is for nature to understand the ways of grace.
Every part of Jacob's plan has a job to do. The whole plan assumes the man in Egypt wants payment and needs calming.
Occupied with their own doings, Jacob unfolds his plan. "Take," he says, "a present" to appease the man. "Take double the money" to buy the grain. "Take also your brother, and arise, go again to the man." Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or of man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or of man. It cannot imagine a God so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give. It cannot imagine a man so ruined and helpless that he can only receive.
They gather the gift in a famine, from land that has little to spare. They send it to soften a man they have misjudged.
Here we see in a believer the worst side of the natural sinful heart. It hates to approach Christ, and will not do so until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then at last it decides to go to Him. Even then, it comes with a total misunderstanding of who He is and what He wants. It comes with dread in the heart. It brings a gift scraped from famine-stricken ground, to win favour and to "buy a little" of it — balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart filled with tender and generous compassion towards them!
Writers apply this straight to the way people try to deal with God.
This is man's way of trying to get salvation. People think they are going to be saved by winning God over. They will work and give to the poor, and all the rest. But it will not do. No money will buy salvation, and God does not need appeasing. He is waiting to be gracious, waiting for the moment when He can show what is in His heart, which is only love.
The double money never does the job Jacob planned for it.
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But he knows all about it, and he sets it all aside (vv. 19, 23). Still clinging to their own efforts, they get their present ready "for Joseph's coming at noon." Then they find that Joseph in his turn sets it all aside too. The money and the present achieve nothing at all (vv. 25, 26).
The steward's reply names the real source of the silver they were so anxious about.
The steward responded kindly to them to set them at rest about this matter. "Peace to you," he says, "do not be afraid." They have only their God to thank for the money, the God of their father. For the steward tells them, "I received your money." That was true. He had it, but he had given it back, though he does not tell them so. Then he brought Simeon out to them.
- Gift given. The silver in the sacks was Joseph's own kindness, returned on purpose.
- Gift misread. Jacob treats that kindness as a possible mistake and sends the money back. Nature cannot understand the ways of grace.
- Gift doubled. Fresh silver, twice over, plus a present to soften the man: the plan treats God as one who demands, not one who gives.
- Gift refused. Joseph sets both money and present aside. They achieve nothing, because grace cannot be bought.
- Gift named. "Peace to you, do not be afraid… I received your money" — the silver was no oversight, and the steward points them to God.
And take your brother, and arise, go again to the man.
Genesis 43:13 is the sentence in which Jacob finally lets Benjamin go. Everything before it was delay, argument and grief. Now the famine has emptied the house. Jacob tells his sons to take their youngest brother and go back to the ruler of Egypt — a man they had every reason to dread, and no idea they had once sold.
The journey happens only because the food ran out. While the sacks still held food, they could ignore the ruler's demand for Benjamin. Commentators read that delay as a picture of the heart: it comes to its saviour late.
Here we see in a saint the worst phase of the natural sinful heart, whether Jew or Gentile. It hates to approach Christ, and will not do so until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when at last it decides to go to Him, it comes with a complete misunderstanding of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart. It brings a gift scraped together from famine-struck ground to appease Him and to "buy a little" instalment of favour — balm to soothe and honey to sweeten.
The whole plan of verses 11–13 is the plan of a man who thinks the ruler must be bought off.
This is man's way of getting salvation. People think they are going to be saved by appeasing God. They will work and give to the poor and do all sorts of things. But it will not do. No money will buy salvation, and God does not need appeasing. He is waiting to be gracious, waiting for the moment when He can show what is in His heart, which is only love.
Notice the order of Jacob's instructions: the present first, then the double money, and last of all the brother. Yet the brother was the one condition the ruler had laid down.
First there is Joseph, the saviour who receives and provides — the dreamer, once rejected but now exalted, to whom they come. Second there is Benjamin, the true propitiation, by whom they come. Joseph could only receive them in connection with Benjamin. Christ can only receive and pardon those who come on the ground of who He is and what He has done. We come to Christ and with Christ. This is exactly what the "old man," Jacob, tries to avoid. When he can avoid it no longer, he prepares his gift of balm and honey and the rest, putting Benjamin last. Then he groans out an appeal to the general providence of God for mercy. But Benjamin was all that was required; and it is strange that the more Jacob adds to Benjamin, the more uneasy he becomes.
Joseph had already returned their money once. Watch how the family reads that kindness.
They treat Joseph's earlier kindness in returning their money as a possible "oversight." All this shows how impossible it is for nature to understand the ways of grace. Jacob speaks as the natural man speaks: "Why did you tell the man you had another brother?" Their reply shows the way grace had taken: "The man questioned us carefully about ourselves and our relatives." Grace can forgive everything, but grace will have everything brought to light.
Jacob lets Benjamin go because Judah puts himself on the line. Judah is the brother who had once failed Joseph.
In his words to his father about sending Benjamin to Joseph, we see something to admire in Judah. He said, "Send the boy with me… I will be a pledge of his safety; from my hand you shall require him. If I do not bring him back to you, then let me bear the blame forever" (Gen. 43:8-9). What he failed to do in Joseph's case, he now does in Benjamin's; he stands surety for his safety.
Giving up Benjamin costs Jacob more than the balm and the silver together. Here Scripture calls him by his other name, Israel.
Now Israel yields, however much it wrings his heart. With careful instructions that everything should be done honestly and properly, he gives up his beloved — the more beloved because of the missing one. He calls again on the old patriarchal name of strength for their weakness. It was after a long interval that God brought that name back to Jacob. Along with El-Shaddai, He gave him the name Israel, with glorious promises still to be fulfilled in Israel's sons.
- Hunger moves. The brothers set out only when every other supply is gone — the empty sack, not affection, drives them back to the man.
- Dread misjudges. They travel expecting to buy off a hostile ruler. God does not need appeasing — He is waiting to be gracious.
- Gifts fail. Balm, honey and double money are the sinner's way of buying a little favour. Adding to the one thing needed only increases the unease.
- The brother is everything. The ruler asked one thing: Benjamin. Jacob listed him last — yet he alone opened the door.
- Surety costs. Judah pledges himself for Benjamin, doing for him what he failed to do for Joseph. Jacob gives up his beloved son, and the way to the man opens.
And the Almighty God give you mercy before the man, that he may send away your other brother and Benjamin! And I, if I be bereaved of children, am bereaved.
Jacob has run out of food and out of options. Egypt's ruler will not see his sons again unless Benjamin goes with them. So the old man gives up the son he had refused to send. His parting words hold a prayer and a sigh at once.
Jacob does not ask for luck or leverage. He reaches for the specific title under which God had made Himself known to his family.
To the patriarchs God made Himself known under another name. This name first appears in Genesis 17:1, "The LORD appeared to Abram and said to him, I am God Almighty" — that is, EL SHADDAI. The word El is said to mean strength, omnipotence. Some think Shaddai means the same thing. Others prefer the rendering all-sufficient, or self-sufficiency. Either way, the two words together carry divine attributes, since omnipotence and all-sufficiency are found in God alone.
That choice of name says something about Jacob himself. He had known this name before and lost his hold on it.
So afterwards in Genesis 43, when he is sending his sons into Egypt a second time to buy food, he commits them into the hand of the Lord as "God Almighty." This also tells us something happy about Jacob's condition of soul. At least in some measure he had recovered the power of that name. He had once lost it, and everything he went through at Peniel had not given it back to him.
Notice the order. Jacob makes all his arrangements first, and prays last. One writer sees in that a picture of how people still deal with God.
Having made all his plans, Jacob finally commends his sons to the mercy of God Almighty. He puts his plans first and God Almighty second. If there is anything lacking in his plans he expresses the pious hope that the mercy of God will make up the shortfall. And this is how men treat God and Christ today. God in mercy sent His Son. Christ accomplished the mighty work of redemption. Yet man still clings to his own doings. He treats the mercy of God and the work of Christ as mere fillers for any little gaps in his own efforts. And as with Jacob, so with men: their own plans leave them in hopeless uncertainty. Jacob had to confess that after all he is quite unsure of the results: "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved."
Commentators differ over that closing line. Hamilton Smith hears uncertainty. Another writer hears a man who has stopped fighting God, and sets the change beside Jacob's earlier grief over Joseph.
When the strong will belongs to a man of natural strength, there is no complete surrender while any link of nature remains. All the sorrow of heart we read of in Genesis 37 and Genesis 43, over Joseph and Benjamin, was needed. It brought Jacob's heart and will into full submission. In the first instance he tore his clothes, put sackcloth on his waist, and refused to be comforted. But in the last he says, "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved" — in other words, "I submit." What a difference! What desolation, when the heart is wrenched and finds no resource in God! What a contrast, when the Almighty God is a refuge!
One writer sees more here than a family crisis. He reads Jacob's letting go of Benjamin as a picture of what the nation of Israel must one day do.
With all the fervour of a love that cannot sacrifice its last hope, he refuses to put the child of his old age into the hands of this unknown, seemingly cruel, and yet God-fearing ruler of Egypt. But he must place the child of promise into the hands of God, as Abraham did long before. He will receive him back again — not merely as he gave him up, but joined to his long-lost but never-forgotten son, through whom all the glory and blessing were to be secured. In the same way, Israel must give up their national hopes of greatness and glory, pictured in Benjamin, into the hands of a righteous God. They will find those hopes and claims made good to them through the very One they had rejected and cast out.
- The Name. Jacob calls on God as El Shaddai — the almighty and all-sufficient One. This is the name God used when He made Himself known to Abraham.
- The Recovery. Reaching for that name shows he had recovered, at least in part, a hold on God he had once lost.
- The Flaw. He arranges every human safeguard first and adds God's mercy last. One writer sees in this how people still treat Christ's work as a top-up for their own efforts.
- The Surrender. Commentators differ over "If I am bereaved, I am bereaved." One hears plain uncertainty. Another hears a broken will saying, "I submit."
- The Return. Jacob had to put the child of promise into God's hands, as Abraham did, and he received him back joined to the son he had mourned as lost.
And the men took that gift, and took double money in their hand, and Benjamin, and rose up, and went down to Egypt, and came before Joseph.
Jacob's sons finally go back down to Egypt and stand in front of the brother they once sold. They do not recognise him. Everything in their hands is meant to buy safety from him, and the commentators ask whether any of it can work.
All three items were Jacob's idea. Commentators read his plan as the instinct of the human heart toward God.
Jacob says, "Take a present" to appease the man. "Take double the money" to buy the grain. "Take also your brother, and arise, go again to the man." Nature cannot think of God as a giver, or man as a receiver. Nature has no true knowledge of God or man. It cannot imagine a God so rich in sovereign grace that He can only give, or a man so helplessly ruined that he can only receive. But Jacob and his sons must learn this, for all their plans fail entirely to win the blessing from Joseph.
The mistake started earlier. Jacob assumed that food from Egypt had to be paid for.
But about this the patriarch, like many now, made a grave mistake. He did not imagine it was to be had "without money and without price." None of them guessed why the money was returned in every man's sack, so they carried it back with the double money — "perhaps it was an oversight." All this shows how little they knew the heart of Joseph, or the goodness of God in sending him ahead of them to preserve life.
They stood before him with everything on Jacob's list. Joseph looked past all of it.
They took the present, they took double money, and Benjamin, rose up and went down to Egypt and stood before Joseph (15). Joseph pays no attention to their gifts. He does not touch their money. He will not accept Benjamin as a ransom. He completely ignores their plan and begins to act out of his own heart. He says, "The men are to dine with me." Is this not a picture of the far greater message God sends to a world of sinners: "Come, for everything is now ready"? Their plan was only to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. ... We would be content with forgiveness of sins and salvation from hell. But how far short of God's thoughts! His thought is to have us with Himself, to feast with Him in His home.
Nothing they brought moved him. The one thing that did move him was the brother they were most afraid to part with.
But Jacob at last agrees to let Benjamin go. After all this searching of heart they return to Joseph with Benjamin in their hand, and he weighs more with Joseph than all the honey and balm and spices they carried. Seeing Benjamin stirs new affection and fresh kindness in Joseph, and he orders his household to have all these men dine with him at noon.
The invitation into the house should have settled them. It frightened them more.
They did not only see Joseph's face; he made them his favoured guests. But this only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this to people who want everything on a legal basis. They were afraid Joseph was being so kind only to find an excuse to take everything they had. How little they knew Joseph's heart! Many people also stay unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
Behind all of this, one writer sees God at work on their consciences.
How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! They had deeply wronged this brother and bitterly hated him, yet he was only working for their best good through all these trials.
Some writers see more here than family history. Benjamin, the son held back until now, is brought down to the brother who was sent away. One writer reads that pairing as a picture of Israel's future.
How glorious the consequences when the blessing shall be on the head of Jesus "in that day" which is coming, "and on the crown of the head of Him that was separate from His brothers!" Christ is not only the key to this truth but its fullness. It concerns not the heavenly church but God's earthly people, Israel, who must be made ready inwardly for the place God has destined for them before all the nations of the earth. For in this picture Benjamin, the son of his father's hand, must be joined to Joseph, "the separated from his brothers," so that their glory may come — a glory that waits to be fulfilled in its own time.
- Their plan. Present, double money, Benjamin — the plan was to buy a blessing. It bought nothing.
- Their blindness. They took the returned money for an oversight, not a kindness. They did not know Joseph's heart, and never imagined food could be had without price.
- His purpose. Joseph ignored every item they brought and acted out of his own heart: the men are to dine with me.
- Their fear. Kindness makes a legal heart suspicious, not restful. Many stay unsaved for that reason alone.
- His goodness. God's goodness was leading them to repentance. The brother they wronged was working for their good, and a greater glory waits when Benjamin joins Joseph.
And Joseph saw Benjamin with them, and said to the [man] who was over his house, Bring the men into the house, and slaughter cattle, and make ready; for the men shall eat with me at noon.
Genesis 43 brings Joseph's brothers back to Egypt a second time, and this time Benjamin is with them. Joseph sees his youngest brother and at once orders a feast — so why did that kindness terrify them?
Everything in the verse turns on what Joseph sees. The brothers brought gifts to win over the ruler of Egypt. But one writer says it was the brother at their side who moved him.
Jacob at last consents to let Benjamin go. After all this heart-searching they return to Joseph with Benjamin in their hand — and he is more persuasive than all the honey and balm and spices they carried. When Joseph sees Benjamin, new affection and fresh kindness stir in him. He orders his household that all these men should dine with him at noon.
Another writer reads Jacob's surrender of Benjamin as a picture of something larger.
Jacob clings to Benjamin — who pictures the Lord Jesus in His Jewish character and in power, and so pictures the hope of the remnant — but there must be complete submission. If their hatred has rejected Joseph, then even Jacob must give up Benjamin and all the rest. Benjamin must take his place with Joseph before the storehouse of the world.
The brothers arrived with a plan: gifts, money, and Benjamin as a ransom. Joseph touches none of it.
Joseph pays no attention at all to their gifts. He does not touch their money. He will not accept Benjamin as a ransom. He ignores their plan completely and begins to act according to his own heart… Joseph's purposes go far beyond the plans of his brothers. Their plan was to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. Their plan was to buy grain and make a feast among themselves. His plan was to spread a feast for them to enjoy with him.
The same writer hears in Joseph's order an invitation God still sends, and says we aim far lower than God does.
Does this not look forward to that far greater message God sends to a world of sinners: "Come, for everything is now ready"?… Like Joseph's brothers, we are just as slow to take in God's thoughts of blessing. We would be content to get the forgiveness of sins and salvation from hell. But how far short of God's thoughts! His thought is to have us with Himself to feast with Him in His home.
Notice where Joseph sends them: to his own house. One writer reads it in an older translation that says "home", and turns that word on the reader.
What does God want? He wants you brought home: "Bring these men home."
The men did not relax at the news. Joseph's favour looked like a trap to them, and one writer links their fear to people today.
They did not just see Joseph's face; he made them his favoured guests. But this only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this in people who want to deal on legal terms. They were afraid that Joseph was showing such kindness to find an excuse to steal all they had. How little they knew Joseph's heart! Many people also stay unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
The dinner was not merely hospitality. Behind the invitation was a work going on inside the men, though they could not see it.
The inspired account, in its beautiful simplicity, shows us God at work in the conscience of the sons of Israel. How little they yet understood! His goodness was leading them to repentance. The brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was only bringing about their truest good through the trials they were going through.
Another writer says both the roughness and the kindness worked on their guilty consciences, and that Joseph planned it that way.
Kindness or roughness works the same way on a guilty conscience. To those who are defiled and unbelieving, nothing is pure. A shaken leaf might well frighten the brothers now, for conscience had made cowards of them all… Joseph was wisely drawing in every feeling of the mind and weaving them together — wonder with fear, gratitude with joy — so that there might be a thorough renewal leading to repentance.
- Surrender. Benjamin, the brother Jacob had clung to, is what opens Joseph's house. Nothing else the brothers carried weighed with him.
- Set aside. Joseph ignores their gifts, their money, and their ransom. He acts out of his own heart.
- Summons. Joseph calls them to his own house, not to a deal — the table, not the transaction, is where this is heading.
- Suspicion. Kindness meets a guilty conscience and produces fear first. People still miss grace because they think it hides a trap.
- So that. God's goodness was leading them to repentance. Joseph's roughness and his feast both served that one end.
And the man did as Joseph had said; and the man brought the men into Joseph's house.
The steward does exactly what Joseph told him, and the brothers find themselves standing inside Joseph's own house. Commentators read this short verse as the moment kindness itself turns frightening. The men receiving the favour still carry a guilty secret about the man showing it.
Joseph has not yet greeted his brothers. He has only seen Benjamin, and the order goes straight to the steward.
Joseph sees that Benjamin is with them. Before he even speaks to them, he orders his house steward to bring all those men into his own house, and to have an animal killed to provide food for them. They were to dine with Joseph at noon (v. 16). They did not only see Joseph's face; he made them his favoured guests. But this only awakened their fear and suspicion. They were afraid that Joseph was showing such kindness so that he could find a pretext to steal all they had. How little they knew Joseph's heart! Many also remain unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
An older translation gives Joseph's order to the steward as "Bring these men home." One writer hears God's own desire in that word.
See, what does God want? He wants you brought home. "Bring these men home, and slaughter an animal and make ready, for the men are to dine with me at noon." Then we read, "And the men were afraid" (Gen. 43:18). It is wonderful how fear begins to work on the conscience when a sinner feels he is not right with God. They were afraid because their money had been returned. But then Joseph's steward says, "Peace to you, do not be afraid" (Gen. 43:23). If you are really troubled in your soul, sooner or later you will find someone with a word of the gospel for you.
An invitation into the house should have been an honour. It frightened them instead. The trouble lay not in Joseph's treatment of them but in their own conscience.
But kindness or roughness works alike with an evil conscience. To the defiled and unbelieving nothing is pure. A shaking leaf might well frighten the brothers now, for conscience had made cowards of them all.
The same writer explains elsewhere what all this pressure was for.
Joseph uses roughness and kindness, encouragements and alarms, challenges and feasts, favours and reproaches, and makes them all work together... They fear where no fear is. But it is all working repentance that no one will regret.
The brothers gave themselves a reason for the invitation. It was the wrong reason.
But we are slow to take in the greatness of God's grace. Joseph's brothers could only think they were brought in to be condemned. They could not imagine they were brought in to be feasted... They looked on Joseph as against them, as one who must be appeased. They had yet to learn that he is making all things work together for good. Instead of judging themselves they are judging Joseph. In all these marks of favour they can only imagine that Joseph is seeking an occasion against them — that he is going to attack them and make them slaves (vv. 17, 18).
The brothers came carrying a present. One writer turns that on the reader.
Do you think you can bring a present to Christ to win pardon? No, no, you have to come to Him as you are — a poor sinner in your sins. And what then? You will find Him full of grace.
The steward calms them about the money, but that is not the end of the matter. Their real trouble was never the silver in the sacks.
How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! They had wronged this brother deeply and hated him bitterly. Yet he was only working their best good through the trials they passed through... The steward assured them that all was right about the money, and gave no further explanation. God would work more deeply yet.
- Brought. They did not ask to enter. The steward brought them in, and the whole move came from Joseph's side.
- Home. Joseph's order was to bring these men home and feed them. He had a dinner ready while they imagined slavery.
- Afraid. A guilty conscience reads every signal as a threat. Kindness and roughness alarm it alike. They feared where there was nothing to fear.
- Wrong. They judged Joseph instead of themselves. They expected condemnation. Joseph had a feast waiting.
- Deeper. The steward settled the question of the money. But God would work more deeply yet. His goodness was leading them to repentance, not to ruin.
And the men were afraid because they were brought into Joseph's house, and said, Because of the money that was returned to us in our sacks at the beginning are we brought in, that he may turn against us, and fall upon us and take us for bondmen, and our asses.
Joseph has told his steward to bring his brothers into his house for a meal. They feel dread instead of joy, which raises two questions: why does kindness frighten a guilty conscience, and what is God doing behind that fear?
Joseph's brothers stand inside the house of Egypt's ruler — and they are afraid.
But we are slow to take in the greatness of God's grace. It was the same with Joseph's brothers, who "were afraid" when they were brought into Joseph's house. They could only think Joseph had brought them in to condemn them. They could not imagine he had brought them in to feast them. They looked on Joseph as against them, as someone they had to appease. They still had to learn that he is making all things work together for good. Instead of judging themselves they are judging Joseph. In all these marks of favour they can only imagine that Joseph is seeking an occasion against them — that he is going to fall on them and make them slaves.
Notice what they assumed about Joseph's motive.
They not only saw Joseph's face; he made them his favoured guests. Yet this only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this in people who want matters on a legal basis. They were afraid Joseph was being so kind only to find an excuse to steal everything they had. How little they knew Joseph's heart! There are many too who remain unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
Their instinct is to settle the account. They had brought double money, and they had prepared a present.
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But though he knows all about it, he sets it all aside and brings Simeon out to them. They still cling to their own efforts. They get their present ready "for when Joseph came at noon." But Joseph in his turn sets that aside too. The money and the present achieve nothing at all.
They dread slavery and the loss of their donkeys, so they try to buy safety. But the steward already knows about the money, and the thing that terrifies them is settled before they can explain it.
Their fear was not wasted.
The inspired narrative in its own beautiful simplicity shows us God working in the conscience of the sons of Israel. How little they yet understood! His goodness was leading them to repentance. The brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was only bringing about their greatest good through the trials they were going through. The invitation into the governor's house filled them with uneasiness. So they were eager to tell the story of their mysterious discovery, and to repay the money that was not theirs. But the steward assured them that all was right on that score without further explanation. God would work more deeply yet.
The steward settles the money question. The deeper question — their sin against Joseph — is not settled yet.
The same house that terrified them becomes the place where they first hear words of peace.
"Bring these men home" — see, what does God want? He wants you brought home. Joseph orders a meal made ready, for the men are to dine with him at noon. And now we read, "And the men were afraid." It is remarkable how fear begins to work on the conscience when a sinner feels he is not right with God. They were afraid because the money had been returned. But then Joseph's steward says, "Peace be to you, do not be afraid." If you are really in earnest about your soul, sooner or later you will find someone with some gospel for you.
- Brought in. Joseph invited them to a feast, not a sentence. He made them his favoured guests; they read it as a trap.
- Afraid. A guilty conscience turns kindness into suspicion. They judged Joseph instead of judging themselves.
- Legal. Grace alarms anyone who wants matters settled on a legal basis. Many stay unsaved because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
- Payment. Joseph set aside both the double money and the present. Their own efforts achieved nothing.
- Peace. God's goodness was leading them to repentance all along. To anyone in earnest about their soul the word comes: "Peace be to you, do not be afraid."
And they came up to the man that was over Joseph's house, and they spoke to him at the door of the house,
Joseph's brothers stand inside the house of the man who rules Egypt, and they stop at the door to speak with his servant. They are shown kindness, and it frightens them as much as any threat would.
The invitation into the house unsettled them. One writer points out that nothing could calm them, because the problem was inside them:
Joseph uses roughness and kindness, encouragement and alarm, challenge and feast, favour and reproach, and he makes them all work together. Yet it is all much the same in the reckoning of a guilty conscience. A shaken leaf is an armed host in its presence. Kindness and roughness alarm it alike. They are afraid because they are brought into Joseph's house. They fear where there is nothing to fear. But it is all working repentance that no one will ever regret.
They go to the man who handles the accounts, not to the man who invited them. One commentator reads this as the instinct of every guilty heart:
The men came trembling and afraid, with their "little balm" and the rest. Of course they will do anything rather than go straight to their Saviour: they seek out the steward. Now the steward's job is to pay creditors and to demand from debtors — he stands for, if not the law itself, then the principle of law. Of course the men would rather go to him than to Joseph. What sinner ever at first did not prefer law to grace? So they approach with deep humility, as sinners mostly pretend to do. They want to establish two things: that they were innocent and honest, and yet that they will make up for their faults. It is rather inconsistent.
They carried double money and a present with them. Both tried to settle a matter that was never theirs to settle, and neither one worked:
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But though he knows all about it, he sets it all aside and brings Simeon out to them (vv. 19, 23). Still clinging to their own efforts, they get their present ready for Joseph's arrival at noon, only to find that Joseph in his turn sets that aside too. The money and the present achieve nothing at all (vv. 25, 26).
Fear starts to work as a person draws near to Christ, and no gift will quiet it:
Fear begins to work in a person's heart when he is getting near to Christ — into God's presence. Do you think you can bring a present to Christ to win pardon? No, no — you have to come to Him as you are, a poor sinner in your sins. And what then? You will find Him full of grace.
The steward does not argue with their story. His reply removes the whole ground of their fear, and Simeon's release proves it:
The steward ignores their little speech and says, "Peace be to you … Do not be afraid! I had your money," and he brought Simeon out to them (Gen. 43:23). Joseph had paid their debt, and Simeon's release was the proof that there was nothing against them. It is the resurrection of Christ, the Substitute, from the prison of death that gives the trembling sinner the assurance that his debt is paid.
Their fear at the door was real, but it was not yet repentance. They cleared themselves about money and said nothing about the brother they had wronged:
The inspired story, told with beautiful simplicity, shows us God at work in the conscience of the sons of Israel. How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! They did not see that the brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was only bringing about their greatest good through the trials they were passing through. Being invited into the governor's house filled them with unease… So they were eager to tell the story of their mysterious discovery, and to repay the money that was not theirs. But the steward told them that all was well about the money, and explained nothing more. God would work more deeply yet.
- Fear — kindness and roughness alarm a guilty conscience alike, so these men fear where there is nothing to fear.
- Detour — they go to the steward, who stands for the principle of law, and not to the man who invited them. No sinner prefers grace to law at first.
- Payment — the double money and the present achieve nothing, so both are set aside.
- Answer — the steward tells them not to fear, because Joseph had already paid their debt; Simeon's release proves nothing stands against them.
- Depth — clearing themselves about money is not repentance about a brother, and God would work more deeply yet.
and said, Ah! my lord, we came indeed down at the first to buy food.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it came to pass when we came to the inn, that we opened our sacks, and behold, [every] man's money was in the mouth of his sack, our money according to its weight; and we have brought it again in our hand.
The brothers stand at the door of the Egyptian governor's house and rush to explain the silver they found at their overnight stop. No one has accused them yet — so how did the money get into their sacks, and why are innocent men so eager to clear themselves?
The Hebrew word behind "lodging place" describes something much simpler than a hotel.
We read of the inn as early as Genesis 42:27 and Genesis 43:21, when Jacob sent to Egypt for grain. The word malon simply means 'lodging place.' At first it may mean nothing more than a spot near water where travellers usually rested. … Those known in the East were just walled enclosures for safety. Covered spaces along the walls gave travellers a place to lie down and put their goods.
The silver did not appear by accident. Joseph was the brother they had wronged years before, and now he was Egypt's governor.
But Joseph followed up what he began by directing each man's money to be returned in his own sack. He wanted to deepen the work beyond a sense of payback for their past evil toward himself. Food for their journey alone might not have had any such effect. But the money restored would strike them as not at all the way of a sale, or the way of man. And it came on them gradually. For at their stopping place only one opened his sack to feed his donkey and saw his money in the mouth of the sack. He told the others. It dismayed them all, and they could only say to each other, "What is this that God has done to us?" A bad conscience brought God before them. Why else would the governor act so kindly? He had suspected them of being spies, kept one brother in custody, and insisted on having the one their father loved best.
Their rush to tell the story shows how little they understood what was happening to them.
The inspired account, in its own beautiful simplicity, shows us God working in the conscience of the sons of Israel. How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! They did not see that the brother they had wronged so deeply and hated so bitterly was only working their greatest good through these trials. The invitation into the governor's house filled them with unease… So they rushed to tell the story of their mysterious discovery and to repay money that was not theirs. But the steward assured them all was right on that score without further explanation. God would work more deeply yet.
They carried the silver back and brought more besides. Watch what happens to all of it.
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But though he knows all about it, he sets it all aside and brings Simeon out to them. Still clinging to their own efforts, they get their gift ready "for Joseph's coming at noon." Then Joseph in his turn sets it all aside. The money and the gift achieve nothing at all.
The same writer traces their fear to a misreading of Joseph.
They could only think they were brought in to be condemned. They could not imagine they were brought in to be feasted… They looked on Joseph as against them, as someone who had to be appeased. They had yet to learn that he is making all things work together for good. Instead of judging themselves, they are judging Joseph. In all these marks of favour they can only imagine that Joseph is looking for a charge against them — that he means to fall on them and make them slaves.
Grant names the mindset behind their fear, then shows what the steward's reply leaves unsaid.
Being made Joseph's guests only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this in those who want matters on a legal basis… Many people also remain unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus… The steward answered them kindly, to set their minds at rest about this. "Peace be to you," he says, "do not be afraid." They should only thank their God, the God of their father, for the money. He tells them, "I had your money." This was true: he had it, but had given it back, though he does not tell them so.
- Grace acts first. The silver was back in the sacks before the brothers knew anything about it. It was restored, not earned — "not at all the way of a sale."
- Grace stirs fear. Money they could not explain woke a guilty conscience: "a bad conscience brought God before them."
- Grace is misread. They hurried to account for money that was not theirs. They judged Joseph instead of judging themselves, sure that kindness was a trap.
- Grace refuses payment. Joseph and his steward set aside both the full-weight silver and the double money. They "achieve nothing at all."
- Grace speaks peace. The steward's "do not be afraid" settled that point. But the deeper work was still to come: God "would work more deeply yet."
And other money have we brought down in our hand to buy food. We do not know who put our money in our sacks.
Ten men stand at the door of the governor's house, explaining themselves to a servant before they are even inside. Their whole speech is about money, and it ends with a confession: they cannot explain how the silver got there.
Their first act is not to enjoy the invitation but to clear themselves about the silver. One writer sees their rush to speak as a conscience already at work under God's goodness.
How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! They did not see that the brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was only bringing about their greatest good through the trials they went through. The invitation into the governor's house filled them with unease... So they were eager to tell the story of their mysterious discovery, and to repay the money that was not theirs. But the steward assured them all was well on that score without explaining further. God would work more deeply yet.
They come loaded: the returned silver, fresh silver for this journey, and a present of the best fruits of the land.
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But though he knows all about it, he sets it all aside and brings Simeon out to them. Still clinging to their own efforts, they get their present ready "for when Joseph came at noon." But Joseph in his turn sets that aside too. The money and the present achieve absolutely nothing.
It started at home. Jacob sent his sons back with a present and double the silver.
About this Jacob made a grave mistake, for he did not imagine it could be had "without money and without price"... All this shows how little they knew the heart of Joseph, or the goodness of God in sending him ahead of them to preserve life.
The sentence that ends their speech is a confession of ignorance. They can weigh the silver, but they cannot say where it came from. One writer explains why Joseph arranged it that way.
But Joseph followed up what he had begun by ordering each man's money to be put back in his sack. He wanted to deepen the work beyond a mere sense of payback for their past evil toward him. Simply providing for their journey might not have had that effect. But the money given back would strike them as not at all the way of a sale, or the way of a man. It came on them gradually... The brothers could only say to each other, "What is this that God has done to us?" A bad conscience brought God before them.
Free silver should have produced gratitude. It produced dread instead.
Then, opening their sacks, they find all their money given back to them. Both they and their father were afraid rather than thankful, for they suspected there was some hidden motive behind it. That is how it is with people generally. They are suspicious that there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is announced.
Their speech ends with a puzzle they cannot solve. The steward answers without scolding them.
The steward responded kindly to settle the matter for them. "Peace be to you," he says, "fear not." They should simply thank their God, the God of their father, for the money. He tells them, "I had your money." This was true: he had it, but had given it back, though he does not tell them so. Then he brought Simeon out to them.
Another writer draws out what that moment offers to anyone else in fear.
They were afraid because the money had been returned. But then Joseph's steward says, "Peace be to you, fear not." If you are truly troubled about your soul, sooner or later you will find somebody with a bit of gospel for you.
- Money returned — silver they never paid for turns up in the sack, and conscience makes it the first thing they mention at the door.
- Money doubled — they answer a gift with payment: returned silver, new silver, a present. Joseph sets all of it aside; their efforts achieve nothing.
- Money unexplained — a gift that looks like no sale and no human dealing; they cannot name the giver, and can only ask what God has done to them.
- Money feared — suspicion, not thanks, is the natural response to free grace; they assume a catch.
- Money owned — "I had your money" ends the matter, and with it comes the word they needed more than food: peace to you, do not fear.
And he said, Peace be to you, fear not your God, and the God of your father, has given you treasure in your sacks; your money came to me. And he brought Simeon out to them.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And the man brought the men into Joseph's house, and gave water, and they washed their feet; and he gave their asses food.
Joseph's brothers walked into the governor's house braced for arrest. Instead they met the welcome of honoured guests — and the host was the brother they had wronged.
Everything in this scene happens to men braced for the worst. They read every kindness backwards. To them the invitation looked like the start of their punishment.
But we are slow to take in the greatness of God's grace. It was the same with Joseph's brothers, who "were afraid" when they were brought into Joseph's house. They could only think they were brought in to be condemned. They could not imagine they were brought in to be feasted... They looked on Joseph as against them, as someone who must be appeased. They had yet to learn that he is making all things work together for good. Instead of judging themselves, they are judging Joseph.
People still meet God's kindness with the same suspicion.
Not only did they see Joseph's face, they were made his favoured guests. But this only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this in those who want everything settled on legal terms... How little they knew Joseph's heart! There are many too who remain unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
Washing a guest's feet was a duty, and Scripture names the hosts who took it seriously. One writer moves from those hosts to the Son of God, welcoming His own into the heavenly house.
Abraham, Lot, Laban, Joseph, and the old man of Gibeah stand out among those who kept this duty. Genesis 18, 19, 24, 43; Judges 19. And the Son of God, receiving people into the heavenly house, would give His chosen ones the full sense of their welcome and their fitness. Then they could take their place with happy confidence in any part of that royal sanctuary... This washing fitted them for such a place. He was taking on Himself the charge of having them fit for the divine presence.
So the fitness of the guest is the host's own work.
The verse does not stop at the men. Their animals are fed too — a detail the writers notice, because it shows the care was thorough rather than formal.
Every kindness was shown them for their comfort, even to the feeding of their donkeys.
Simeon, held back in Egypt since their last visit, is restored to them in the same moment.
Meanwhile Simeon rejoins them, and all are treated with the kind attention due to guests, and their beasts of burden too.
The brothers came with one plan. Joseph was acting on another.
He says the men "are to dine with me." Is this not a picture of that far greater message God sends to a world of sinners: "Come, for everything is now ready"? Joseph's purposes go far beyond his brothers' plans. Their plan was only to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. Their plan was to buy grain to make a feast among themselves. His plan was to spread a feast to be enjoyed with him. Like Joseph's brothers, we are just as slow to take in God's thoughts of blessing. We would be content to get the forgiveness of sins and salvation from hell. But how far short of God's thoughts that is! His thought is to have us with Himself, to feast with Him in His home.
The warm welcome is not a break in Joseph's work on them. It is part of it. He mixes fear, wonder and gratitude on purpose.
But kindness or roughness works the same way with a guilty conscience... A shaken leaf might well frighten the brothers now, for conscience had made cowards of them all... Joseph was wisely calling in every feeling of the mind and weaving them together: wonder with fear, gratitude with joy. In this way there might be a thorough renewal to repentance.
Kelly sees God's goodness at work under their fear.
How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! The brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was only working out their best good through the trials they were passing through... God would work more deeply yet.
- Brought in afraid — They expected condemnation. They never imagined a feast.
- Brought in and washed — Water for the feet was the host's welcome, and his own work of making a guest fit to be there.
- Brought in fully — The welcome reached their animals, and it gave Simeon back to them.
- Brought in to dine — They came to buy grain for a meal of their own; he meant them to eat with him, in his home.
- Brought in to repent — Kindness and roughness work alike on a guilty conscience. Wonder, fear and gratitude together brought them to repentance.
And they made ready the gift for Joseph's coming at noon; for they had heard that they should eat bread there.
The brothers stand in Joseph's house in Egypt, laying out the gift their father sent for a man they still think is a stranger. Two things happen at once here. They get the gift ready to win him over, and they learn they are about to eat a meal with him.
The brothers are following a plan made back home. Send a gift, carry double money, hope the hard governor softens. The plan collapses the moment it meets Joseph.
They explain to the steward that they have brought double money. But though he knows all about it, he sets it all aside and brings Simeon out to them. Still clinging to their own efforts, they get their present ready for when Joseph would come at noon. But Joseph in his turn sets it all aside. The money and the present completely fail to achieve anything.
One writer sees in that gift something people still do when they sense they are not right with God.
How many people think they must bring God a present. You say that it is very foolish. Yes, but you think you can win God over by what you bring — and a way out of the difficulty is suggested. Take Him a present. You are too late. All His claims have been met in the death of His Son, and His heart is free now to come out with the fullest blessing.
They prepared the gift because they heard they would eat there. The news came from Joseph himself, and it went far past anything they came to Egypt for.
He completely ignores their plan and starts to act according to his own heart. First he says, "Bring the men into the house, and slaughter an animal and make ready, for the men are to dine with me." Is this not an anticipation of that far greater message God sends to a world of sinners, "Come, for everything is now ready"? The purposes of Joseph far surpass the plans of his brothers. Their plan was just to get a blessing from Joseph. His purpose was to give a blessing — but a blessing they would enjoy in his company and in his home. Their plan was to buy grain to make a feast among themselves; his plan was to spread a feast to be enjoyed with him.
Smith turns this on the reader:
Like the brothers of Joseph, we are just as slow to take in God's thoughts of blessing. We would be content to get the forgiveness of sins and salvation from hell. But how far short that falls of God's thoughts! His thought is to have us with Himself, to feast with Him in His home.
The invitation did not calm the brothers. It alarmed them. One writer sees God at work under the surface of these events.
The inspired account, in its own beautiful simplicity, shows us God's working in the conscience of the sons of Israel. How little they yet understood that His goodness was leading them to repentance! And how little they saw what the brother they had so deeply wronged and bitterly hated was doing. Through the trials they were passing through, he was only bringing about their greatest good!
Another writer draws a warning out of their fear.
Not only did they see Joseph's face, they were made his favoured guests. But this only awakened their fear and suspicion. Grace does this in those who want matters on a legal basis. They were afraid Joseph was showing such kindness in order to find an excuse to take everything they had. How little they knew Joseph's heart! There are many too who remain unsaved only because they are suspicious of God's grace in Christ Jesus.
Kelly reads the scene as more than family drama. He sees a restoration still ahead, with Benjamin joined to the separated brother.
But it also has a far deeper character for the one who reads in faith. That reader knows the blessed meaning of the grace held out by One far greater than Joseph. He restores His guilty and long-estranged brothers to the knowledge of Himself and of themselves... In this picture Benjamin, the son of his father's right hand, must be joined to Joseph, "the one separated from his brothers." Only then comes their glory, which still waits to be fulfilled in its own time.
- Gift — They made the present ready with care. Joseph paid it no attention: money and gifts buy nothing from him.
- Invitation — News moved them, not negotiation. They heard they would eat with him there, at noon.
- Purpose — Their plan was to get a blessing; his purpose was to give one, and to have them enjoy it in his house and his company.
- Fear — Kindness first alarmed a guilty conscience. Writers see God's goodness leading them to repentance.
- Glory — Writers look past the family. One greater than Joseph restores estranged brothers, and that glory is still ahead.
When Joseph came home, they brought him the gift that was in their hand, into the house, and bowed themselves to him to the earth.
The brothers bow to the ground in the governor's house and hand over their father's gift. They do not know that this man is their brother, or that a dream told years before in Canaan is coming true.
The brothers had a plan for staying safe: double money, and the gift their father chose.
Still clinging to their own efforts they make ready their present "for when Joseph came at noon," only to find that Joseph in his turn sets it all aside. The money and the present entirely fail to achieve anything (vv. 25, 26).
Commentators see the fear and the gift here as a picture of how anyone comes to Christ.
Fear begins to work in a person's heart when he is getting near to Christ — into God's presence. Then "they made ready the present for when Joseph came at noon" (v. 25). Do you think you can bring a present to Christ to win pardon? No, no, you have to come to Him as you are — a poor sinner in your sins. And what then? You will find Him full of grace. True, you may fall to the ground, as Judah and his brothers did, saying, "What shall we say to my lord? What shall we speak? Or how can we clear ourselves? God has found out the guilt of your servants."
The gift was not generosity. It was protection money, offered to a ruler they had misread.
Here we see, in a believer, the worst side of the natural sinful heart, whether in Jew or Gentile. It hates to approach Christ, and will not do so until it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death. Then, when at last it decides to go to Him, it comes with a completely wrong idea of His nature and purpose. It comes with dread in the heart. And it brings a gift scraped from famine-stricken ground to win Him over and to "buy a little" instalment of favour — balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart filled with tender and generous compassion towards them!
Among everything the brothers carried in, one thing mattered — and it was not the balm or the honey.
First, there is Joseph, the saviour who receives and gives out; the dreamer, once rejected but now exalted, to whom they come. Second, there is Benjamin, the true propitiation, through whom they come. Joseph could only receive them in connection with Benjamin. Christ can only receive and pardon those who come on the ground of His own person and merits. We come to Christ and with Christ… But Benjamin was all that was required, and it is strange that the more Jacob adds to Benjamin, the more uneasy he gets. The sinner who relies wholly and only on Christ always has a more settled peace and assurance — I do not say a more settled salvation. He is more settled than the one who wants to add his own good works, religiousness, or anything else — his money, balm and honey.
Here "propitiation" means the ground on which God can receive a guilty person.
They bow. The brothers who once mocked a boy's dream now put their faces to the floor in front of him — and only one person in the room knows it.
The brothers had made ready a present for Joseph, while waiting for him to come home. When Joseph came in, they offered the present and all kneeled down before him. Remember Joseph's dream of the eleven sheaves bowing down before him!
The brothers who once rejected the dreamer now bow to the ground before him. But commentators say the dreams meant more than this.
There was a figurative fulfilment when his brothers bowed before him in Egypt. Their sheaves bowed down to his. And they did not fail to bow after they knew who he was. But this did not meet the full meaning of Joseph's prophetic dreams. The sheaves of Israel are to bow to the Messiah. But the second dream goes further. It shows the sun and moon and the eleven stars — all the established authority of the world, Gentile or Jewish — bowing to Christ in the person of His representative.
- The gift — the brothers prepared a present and double money to buy safety. Joseph set it aside; it achieved nothing.
- The fear — they came with a completely wrong idea of the man's nature. They brought balm and honey to win over a heart already full of compassion for them.
- The ground — Joseph could receive them only in connection with Benjamin. Christ receives people on the ground of His own person and merits, not on what they add.
- The bow — the brothers who once rejected the dreamer now bow to the ground before him.
- The day — that bowing was real but partial. The second dream still waits: sun, moon and stars — every established authority — bowing to Christ.
And he asked them of their welfare, and said, Is your father well -- the old man of whom ye spoke? Is he yet alive?
Joseph's brothers have just handed over the present they hoped would protect them. They are bowing to the ground before a man they take to be an Egyptian ruler. His first words are not about grain or spies. He asks after their own welfare, and then about an old man far away in Canaan — is he still alive?
The brothers came in fear and found something they never planned for. One writer traces the whole day: their dread inside the house, the steward's welcome, and then Joseph's question:
They came with their gifts, but found Joseph's feast. It seemed so strange. Brought into his house, they are afraid, they think he is looking for an excuse to attack them. But instead of the wrath they deserved, it is "Peace to you, do not be afraid," and he gave them water to wash their feet. Joseph comes home at noon. Again they bow to him; his heart is moved with yearning love; he says, "Is your father well, the old man of whom you spoke? Is he still alive?" What he must have felt, and they did not know him... What a picture of divine grace! Oh, my reader, if you knew the yearning heart of God!
The question lands where their guilt lies. Their old sin had two victims, not one, and Joseph now means to test them:
In the past they had sinned, not only against Joseph, but also against their father. They had been "reckless of a brother's cries and of a father's grief." They had sinned as brothers before their brother. They had sinned as sons before their father. One they had treated with the utmost cruelty, the other with the grossest deception. The time has come for their testing, and Joseph will prove whether any real change has taken place in them. They have claimed to be honest men, so he will place them in circumstances that will reveal whether at last they can act as true brothers and true sons. With the utmost wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they will have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
He speaks kindly, and he weeps — but out of their sight. The love that speaks is the same love that holds back:
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He yearns in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret. But he restrains himself in love, because love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. The Lord deals with the woman at the well in the same perfect wisdom. He does not reveal Himself until her conscience is reached and brought out into the open. Then she discovers that she is in the presence of One who knows her whole history and yet loves her so much that He can say to her, "Come here."
Later, when Joseph finally tells his brothers who he is, the same question comes out again:
But love is skilful, and has its methods and its instruments ready for occasions. "I am Joseph," he says to his brothers; but in the same breath he adds, "Is my father still alive?"
The meal that follows this conversation is a happy one, but the happiness is still one-sided. They are at ease with a host they do not yet know:
He seats them before him, "the firstborn according to his birthright and the youngest according to his youth." They enjoy all this favour, and "they drank and were merry with him." But they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in himself (vv. 27, 34).
The brothers answer that their father is alive and well. One writer reads the scene as a picture of God's future dealings with Israel:
Of course Joseph had a deep interest in their father: was he still alive? Yes, they tell him, their father was both alive and in good health. As a picture, this tells us something about the tribulation period. In it the Jewish remnant will have to face the question of their own relationship to the living God... Again the brothers bowed their heads to Joseph. They did not realize he was the brother they had rejected. The living Son of God will be dealing with Israel during their tribulation. They will not realize that the One searching their souls is the same One whom they rejected.
- Love asks. The question comes from a heart moved with yearning love — grace speaks first, before they know who is speaking.
- Love probes. It touches their hidden wound: they sinned as brothers against a brother, and as sons against a father. Now Joseph tests them as both.
- Love waits. He speaks kindly and weeps in secret, because the moment for revealing himself has not yet come.
- Love gives more than gifts. They can be merry on his food while still strangers to him; enjoying what he gives is not yet rejoicing in him.
- Love lives. The father is still alive. One writer sees here a picture of a living One dealing with people who do not yet recognise Him.
And they said, Thy servant our father is well; he is yet alive. And they bowed, and made obeisance.
Joseph has just asked about their old father. The brothers answer in the careful language of servants speaking to a great lord of Egypt. The brothers bow again — and neither the question nor their homage means to them what it means to the man asking.
Joseph's first concern is not the grain or the money. It is whether the old man is still alive. One writer reads the answer as a picture of a later day:
Of course Joseph was deeply interested in knowing about their father: was he still alive? Yes, they tell him, their father was both alive and in good health. In picture, this tells us what happens in the tribulation period. The Jewish remnant will have their thoughts stirred up about their relationship to the living God. Men may say that God is dead, but this is only because they themselves are dead toward God. … Again the brothers bowed their heads in homage to Joseph. They did not realise he was the brother whom they had rejected. The living Son of God will be dealing with Israel during their tribulation. But they will not realise it. The One exercising their souls is the same One whom they rejected.
Years before, Joseph had dreamed that his brothers' sheaves bowed to his. They threw him into a pit to end such talk. Now they are bowing:
Joseph was lord. His rule was absolute in that great land. His dreams were proved true. The other sheaves bowed to his sheaf; sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed to him. His brothers had said, "Let us … throw him into one of the pits … and we will see what will become of his dreams." Well, they had now seen!
The bowing in Egypt is not the whole of what Joseph dreamed. His second dream reached far beyond eleven brothers in a foreign court:
There was a fulfilment in figure when his brothers did homage to him in Egypt. Their sheaves bowed to his. Nor did they fail in homage after they knew him. But this did not meet the full meaning of Joseph's prophetic dreams. The sheaves of Israel are to bow to Messiah. But there is more. The second dream shows the sun and moon and the eleven stars bowing to Christ in the person of His representative. They stand for all the established authority of the world, Gentile or Jewish.
They give their father's title as "your servant" and press their faces to the ground. That low bow is not confidence. It is dread. Joseph turns everything he does, hard word and warm word alike, to one end:
Joseph has yet to learn whether the hearts of sons and brothers were in them. Were they still, as they once had been, careless of a brother's cries and a father's grief? So he tests them further. Roughness and kindness, encouragements and alarms, challenges and feasts, favours and reproaches — all are used and made to work together. … Kindness and roughness alarm them equally. They are afraid because they are brought into Joseph's house. They fear where there is nothing to fear. But it is all working repentance that no one will regret.
Joseph could end their fear in a moment. He does not. He asks about his father, seats them, feeds them — and says nothing of who he is:
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He yearns in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret. But he holds himself back in love, for love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. The Lord deals with the woman by the well in the same perfect wisdom. He does not reveal Himself until her conscience is reached and brought out into the open. Then she discovers that she is in the presence of One who knows her whole history and yet loves her. … He will feast them, but in such a way that they cannot help seeing that their history is known. … "They drank and were merry with him," but they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in himself.
- Question — Joseph's first care is whether his old father still lives. The answer, that he is alive and well, pictures hearts stirred up about the living God.
- Homage — the brothers bow to the brother they rejected, not knowing it is him. The dreams they tried to bury in a pit come true over their heads.
- Horizon — their bowing in Egypt is only a picture. The full scene has all authority, Jewish and Gentile, bowing to Christ.
- Fear — kindness and roughness alarm them alike. They fear where there is nothing to fear. Yet all of it is working repentance in them.
- Restraint — Joseph's love waits and stays hidden while he feasts them. They enjoy his gifts long before they rejoice in him.
And he lifted up his eyes and saw his brother Benjamin, his mother's son, and said, Is this your younger brother of whom ye spoke to me? And he said, God be gracious to thee, my son!
Joseph, once rejected and now exalted in Egypt, sees his own mother's son standing among the brothers who were guilty of his blood. Why does he greet him as "my son" and ask God to be gracious, instead of saying who he is?
The brothers arrive braced for trouble. What they meet instead is kindness, and the warmest words fall on Benjamin.
They came with their gifts, but found Joseph's feast. It seemed so strange. Brought into his house, they are afraid, they think he is looking for an excuse to attack them. But instead of the punishment they deserved, it is "Peace to you, do not be afraid," and he gave them water to wash their feet. Joseph comes home at noon. Again they bow to him; his heart is moved with yearning love… But when he saw his long-loved brother Benjamin, he could hold back no longer. He said, "God be gracious to you, my son." He hurried out and wept. What a picture of divine grace! My reader, if you only knew the yearning heart of God!
Joseph asks "God" to be gracious. One writer sets that name beside the other names of God used in Genesis.
It is Elohim, God in His nature, God sovereign in His action… It is the historic as well as the abstract expression; and so it is in Genesis 43:23, 29… God, or Elohim, stands in contrast with man; Jehovah is His name of relationship; El Shaddai is the proper patriarchal title.
The verse calls Benjamin "his mother's son." A commentator spells out what that phrase meant to Joseph.
He wept again when he saw Benjamin. He was the son of Joseph's own mother, her only child besides himself, and his birth was also her death. He was also the only one among his father's children — all of them standing in front of him — who had not been guilty of his blood. That is who Joseph saw in Benjamin at that moment. These tears, then, nature could account for.
Joseph blesses Benjamin, then goes out and weeps. Another writer explains why he still keeps his identity hidden.
The tears sprang out of a sense of relationship. Benjamin knew nothing of that relationship yet, but Joseph knew, and he was moved beyond words… The work of conviction and repentance in his brothers had not yet gone deep enough for him to declare that relationship. So he "washed his face and came out," controlling himself. In this way he showed patience in his dealings with them.
Joseph cares about this one brother far more than the ten can guess. One commentator reads the pair of brothers as a lesson Israel has still to learn.
But Benjamin, the younger son of Rachel, is of vital interest to Joseph too, far more than the brothers could guess (v. 29). We have seen that he is a type of Christ, the Messiah of Israel reigning in power and glory. Israel must learn to connect a reigning Messiah with a suffering Messiah, as they have never done before. Of course both are one and the same person, the blessed Lord Jesus. But one man alone cannot give an adequate picture of what only Christ displays in perfection.
Joseph would only deal with the brothers if Benjamin came too. Another writer finds two pictures of Christ in that, and a warning in Jacob's gifts.
First, there is Joseph, the saviour who receives them and provides for them; the dreamer, once rejected but now exalted, to whom they come. Second, there is Benjamin, the true propitiation, by whom they come. Joseph could only receive them in connection with Benjamin. In the same way, Christ can only receive and pardon those who come on the ground of His own person and merits. We come to Christ and with Christ. This is exactly what the "old man," Jacob, tries to avoid. When he can avoid it no longer, he prepares his gift of balm, honey and the rest, putting Benjamin last… But Benjamin was all that was needed. It is strange that the more Jacob adds to Benjamin, the more uneasy he gets. The sinner who relies wholly and only on Christ always has a more settled peace and assurance than the one who wants to add his own good works or religiousness. I do not say a more settled salvation.
- Grace first. The brothers expected punishment. Joseph gave them peace, a feast, and a blessing — a picture of the yearning heart of God.
- Grace named. Joseph asks God — Elohim, God in His nature and sovereign in His action — to be gracious. That title stands in contrast with man.
- Grace felt. Benjamin is his mother's son, and the one brother not guilty of his blood. The sight breaks Joseph, and he goes out to weep.
- Grace that waits. The relationship is real before Joseph reveals it. He holds back because repentance in his brothers has not yet gone deep enough.
- Grace through one person. Joseph received them only with Benjamin present. In the same way Christ receives those who come on the ground of His person and merits. Adding anything to Him only unsettles the heart.
And Joseph made haste, for his bowels burned for his brother; and he sought [a place] to weep, and he went into the chamber, and wept there.
Joseph, the ruler of Egypt, has just seen Benjamin, his only full brother, for the first time in over twenty years. The sight breaks him, and he hides to cry — so why would a man with all that power hide his own love?
Start on the human level. The sight of Benjamin broke through Joseph's composure, and he could not stay in the room.
But the sight of his brother moved him with such a surge of emotion that he had to leave them at once and go to his bedroom to weep (v. 30). We can well understand this, for he had not seen Benjamin for well over 20 years. After weeping he returned to his normal self-control, washed his face and came out to eat with his brothers.
Older translations read "his bowels burned for his brother." A Bible dictionary explains what that old word stands for:
after_note: DELETE
The word "bowels" is used symbolically for deep tenderness, pity and compassion. Gen. 43:30; 1 Kings 3:26; Phil. 1:8; Phil. 2:1; etc.
Joseph is weeping over a brother who has no idea who he is. The love is one-sided for now, and it stays hidden for a reason.
This was the second time Joseph wept. It happened when Benjamin, his own full brother, appeared. The tears sprang out of a sense of relationship. Benjamin still knew nothing of that relationship, but Joseph knew, and it moved him beyond words... The work of conviction and repentance in his brothers had not yet gone deep enough for him to declare it. So "he washed his face and came out, controlling himself." In this way he was patient in his dealings with them.
The restraint is not coldness. One writer sets Joseph's held-back love beside the way Jesus dealt with the woman at the well.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He longs in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret. But he holds himself back in love, because love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. The Lord deals with the woman at the well in the same perfect wisdom. He does not reveal Himself until He has reached her conscience and brought it into the open. Then she finds that she stands before One who knows her whole story and still loves her. His love is such that He can say to her, "Come here."
Joseph had two easy options. He could make himself known and take the honour, or make himself known and ease his own heart. He took neither.
If he had thought first of his own name, when he remembered his dreams, he would have made himself known at once. He would have stood there as the honoured one among his stunned, humbled brothers. If he had now thought of his own heart, he would have made himself known and been the happy one in the arms of his convicted, grieving brothers. But he listened to neither. Love was serving. The one who farms souls, like the one who farms the ground, sometimes needs "long patience." He has to wait for the late rain as well as the early rain.
Commentators see this scene as a picture of how Christ will deal with Israel. He stays hidden and He tests, yet He loves the whole time.
Joseph of old tried in many ways to test the hearts of his brothers, because of their guilt about him. In the same way the true Joseph will search deep into the hearts of His brothers the Jews in the last days, because of their state before God. But Joseph did not love his brothers any less for letting them go through a hard, sifting process. His heart was full and ready to pour out the strongest affection when the right moment came.
The moment Joseph waited for did come.
The hour had arrived when at last Joseph's love could burst its barriers and declare itself.
- Love felt. The old word behind "his compassion grew warm" stands for the deepest tenderness and pity. This is not a polite emotion. This is a man undone.
- Love hidden. Joseph knew the relationship; Benjamin did not. The tears were real long before any brother knew he loved them.
- Love timed. He held back because love's moment to show itself had not yet come. Jesus used the same wisdom at the well. He waited until He had reached the woman's conscience.
- Love serving. He could have made himself known to take his honour, or to ease his own heart. He chose neither. He waited with "long patience" for repentance to ripen.
- Love revealed. The sifting never meant he loved them less. His held-back heart broke open at the right moment. Christ's love, commentators say, will do the same for His own.
And he washed his face, and came out, and controlled himself, and said, Set on bread.
Joseph has just seen his younger brother Benjamin and slipped away to weep where no one could see him. Now he comes back with a washed face, holds himself in, and orders the meal — so why does he still not tell them who he is?
The weeping and the washing belong together. Both have one explanation: a family bond only Joseph knew about, and a work in his brothers that was not yet finished.
A second time Joseph wept when Benjamin, his own full brother, appeared. The tears sprang from a sense of relationship. Benjamin was as yet unaware of that relationship, but Joseph knew, and it moved him beyond words. "His compassion grew warm for his brother, and he sought a place to weep. And he entered his chamber and wept there." The work of conviction and repentance in his brothers had not yet gone deep enough for him to declare that relationship, so "he washed his face and came out" and controlled himself. In this way he exercised patience in his dealings with them.
The restraint is not coldness. It is love waiting for the right moment, and the same wisdom appears in the Lord's dealing with the woman at the well.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He yearns in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret, but restrains himself in love, for love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. In the same perfect wisdom the Lord deals with the woman by the well. He does not reveal Himself until He has reached her conscience and everything is out. Then she discovers that she is in the presence of One who knows her whole history. Yet He loves her with such a love that He can say to her, "Come here."
Joseph is not only meeting their need for food. He is after something deeper in them.
He must prepare not only a blessing for them, but them for a blessing. To bless them with the real blessing he intended, he must lead them to repentance. Everything he does in front of them now serves that purpose. He arranges circumstances so that sorrow may work repentance, but he does not yet show himself. All this may be the way of his hand, but it was not the way of his heart. In secret, unknown to them, he enters into the very sorrows he is causing. He would not have put on this rough manner if he could have helped it. His love must therefore be firm and wise, as well as tender.
Instead of telling them, Joseph feeds them. The seating order and the unexpected kindness both work on their conscience.
But kindness or roughness works alike on a guilty conscience. To the defiled and unbelieving nothing is pure. A shaken leaf might well frighten the brothers now, for conscience had made cowards of them all. "And the men were afraid because they were brought to Joseph's house." … Joseph seats them before him, "the firstborn according to his birthright and the youngest according to his youth." They marvel at one another, as they eat and are merry. Joseph was wisely calling in every feeling of the mind and weaving them together — wonder with fear, gratitude with joy. His aim was a thorough renewal leading to repentance.
There is a limit to what the meal can give them.
In the enjoyment of all this favour, "they drank and were merry with him," but they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in himself.
The restraint had an end. When the moment came, Joseph held nothing back.
Joseph could not, would not, hold out any longer. Without delay he yields to his pent-up affection. So that he might do this freely and fully, he ordered every attendant to leave his presence. … Earlier he sought to weep apart and held himself in. Now he gave vent to his feelings without measure, so that their fears might go and they might be sure of the love that was always in his heart.
The testing never meant less love.
Joseph did not love his brothers any less because he let them pass through a trying, sifting process. His heart was full. It was ready to burst out in expressions of the strongest affection when the right moment came. It will be the same with the Lord and Israel, just before He reveals Himself in power and glory for their complete deliverance and the full showing of His love as their own Messiah.
- Tears — Joseph wept over a bond Benjamin did not yet know about. The feeling was real; he hid it on purpose.
- Washing — the washed face was patience, not indifference. The work of repentance in his brothers had not yet gone deep enough.
- Restraint — he restrains himself in love, because love's time to reveal itself had not yet come.
- Preparing — he was not only giving them food. He was preparing them for a blessing, and that road ran through repentance.
- Release — the restraint had a limit. What Joseph holds back here bursts out later, so their fear goes and they know the love that was in his heart all along.
And they set on for him by himself, and for them by themselves, and for the Egyptians who ate with him by themselves; because the Egyptians might not eat bread with the Hebrews, for that is an abomination unto the Egyptians.
Servants in Joseph's house lay three separate tables: one for the ruler of Egypt, one for the Egyptians, one for his brothers. Why does the host feast his guests and still eat apart from them?
The separation was not Joseph's invention. It ran through Egyptian life, and it later shaped where Jacob's family settled — a region called Goshen.
Goshen was the part of Egypt least visited by the people of the land. Herdsmen, shepherds and the like were an abomination to them, as Joseph let them know. Even apart from this, we were already told of their general objection to eating bread with foreigners (43:32). Such was the severity of caste among the Egyptians, as we know it is among strict Hindus.
Commentators read these three tables as a picture of what comes later in Scripture.
Joseph ate by himself, the Egyptian servants by themselves, and Joseph's brothers by themselves (v. 32). Here is a reminder that the Lord Jesus is alone in authority over all, while Israel and Gentiles are distinct companies. This will be true in the Millennium. The church of God stands in great contrast to this. All believers, Jewish and Gentile, are fully united in one body. There is no division between them, and Christ is in their midst as Head, not only as Lord. The Egyptians considered it loathsome to eat with Hebrews. Later, Peter said it was unlawful for a Jew to have any company with Gentiles (Acts 10:28).
Joseph receives his brothers, but he does not bring them close. They sit in his house and still eat at a distance from him. He closes that distance himself, later.
When the once rejected Joseph became lord of all Egypt, his brothers, not knowing who he really was, came before him. He received them, but not at the same table. The Egyptians served their lord "by himself, and them by themselves," although "they sat before him." Joseph felt the position deeply. Afterwards he said to his brothers, "Come near to me, please." And they came near. Today we are brought near, but it is not our doing: "But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ" (Ephesians 2:13).
Joseph could end the whole thing with one sentence. He does not. His kindness and his distance are working together.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He yearns in love over his younger brother and weeps in love in secret. But he restrains himself in love, for love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. The Lord deals with the woman at the well in the same perfect wisdom. He does not reveal Himself until her conscience is reached and everything is out in the open. Then she finds that she is in the presence of One who knows her whole history and yet loves her so much that He can say to her, "Come here." … He will feast them, but in such a way that they cannot help seeing that their history is known. … In the enjoyment of all this favour, "they drank and were merry with him." But they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in himself.
The split between Hebrew and Egyptian is only half of this dinner. The host also knows more about his guests than any stranger could.
Joseph showed wisdom as well as love. At the dinner the rift between Hebrew and Egyptian was clear. Yet the brothers sat before Joseph, and he placed them in the exact order of their ages. Benjamin's portion was five times as much as any of the others. All this must have seemed to show almost superhuman discernment in the great man. It increased their uneasy feeling.
Commentators differ in emphasis. Some read the three tables as a picture of Christ, Israel and the nations kept apart. Others dwell on the personal distance between Joseph and brothers who did not yet know him.
- Custom. Egyptians would not eat bread with foreigners; shepherds were detestable to them. The divided table was ordinary Egyptian caste, not Joseph's coldness.
- Distance. Joseph welcomed his brothers into the house, and they still ate apart from him. Welcomed is not the same as brought near.
- Restraint. Joseph's love had a timetable. He fed them well but kept himself hidden, because love's time to speak had not yet come.
- Nearness. Joseph's own word ended the distance: "Come near to me" — as those once far off are brought near by the blood of Christ, and not by their own doing.
- Unity. Three separate tables picture Christ alone over all, with Israel and the nations distinct. The church stands in contrast. There Jewish and Gentile believers are one body, with Christ in their midst.
And they sat before him, the firstborn according to his birthright, and the youngest according to his youth; and the men marvelled one at another.
Joseph's brothers come back to Egypt with Benjamin, fearing the worst. Instead they find themselves guests at the great man's table. Then comes a detail that unsettles them more than any threat. The stranger seats them in the exact order of their birth, and they can only stare at each other.
The seating is not a courtesy. No Egyptian official could know their birth order, and the brothers feel it.
At the dinner the rift between Hebrew and Egyptian was obvious. But the brothers sat before Joseph, and he placed them in the exact order of their ages. Benjamin's portion was five times as much as any of the others. All this must have seemed to point to almost superhuman discernment in the great man. It increased the uneasy feeling they had.
Joseph is doing more than feeding them. He is handling their hearts, and the mix of feelings has a purpose.
Kindness or roughness works the same way on an evil conscience. A shaken leaf might well frighten the brothers now, for conscience had made cowards of them all. They sit before Joseph, "the firstborn according to his birthright and the youngest according to his youth," and they looked at one another in amazement, while they ate and were merry. Joseph's wisdom was drawing in every feeling of the mind and weaving them together — wonder with fear, gratitude with joy — so that there might be a thorough renewal leading to repentance.
The scene turns on a gap. Joseph sees everything about them. They see nothing of him.
Joseph had taken account of all their condition. There was no escaping. They return humbled by the grace, and alarmed by it, having no idea of grace... They acknowledge the glory of Joseph without knowing him as their Joseph, as the rejected one. They bow to him. They find further grace in the restoration of Simeon. And they find that they are perfectly known, though they do not know. Joseph sits by himself, but his brothers sit according to their age.
Joseph could end their confusion in one sentence. He does not. His restraint is itself an act of love.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He yearns in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret, but restrains himself in love, for love's time to reveal itself has not yet come. In the same perfect wisdom the Lord deals with the woman by the well. He does not reveal Himself until He has reached her conscience and the truth is out... He will feast them, but in such a way that they cannot help seeing that he knows their history. They sit before him, "the firstborn according to his birthright and the youngest according to his youth." While they enjoy all this favour, "they drank and were merry with him." But they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in himself.
A person can sit at the table, enjoy every good thing given, and still not know the giver.
Writers on Genesis read this table as a picture of a future meeting.
The brothers were astonished when they found that Joseph had seated them in order of their ages. Israel will be astonished when they find that the Lord Jesus knows them as well as they know themselves — in fact better.
Benjamin's extra portion carries the same lesson:
Joseph showed Benjamin special favour to press on the brothers that God, far from despising a younger brother, gives him a place of honour. Too often the older look down on one younger. But by natural birth the Lord Jesus was a younger brother in Israel, and the pride of the older must come down.
- Known. The seating shows a knowledge the brothers cannot explain: "they are perfectly known, though they do not know."
- Unsettled. They are amazed, not comforted, because a guilty conscience turns even kindness into a threat.
- Withheld. Joseph's silence is love waiting for its hour: he will not reveal himself until he has reached their conscience.
- Not enough. They enjoy the feast and the favour, yet they are "rejoicing in his gifts" and have yet to rejoice in the giver himself.
- Ahead. That astonishment points to a later day. Israel will find that the Lord Jesus knows them better than they know themselves.
And he had portions carried to them from before him. And Benjamin's portion was five times greater than the portions of them all. And they drank, and made merry with him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And he commanded him who was over his house, saying, Fill the men's sacks with food, as much as they can carry; and put every man's money in the mouth of his sack.
Joseph, now ruler in Egypt, has just eaten with the brothers who sold him years earlier, and none of them know who he is. Before they leave, he gives his steward a private order about their sacks. The kindness in that order is the opening move of a test.
The order is all about giving: full sacks, and each man's money slipped back where he will find it. Commentators read this as planned strategy, not sentiment.
Joseph now shows his wisdom in a way that leads his brothers to repentance without accusing them. He told his steward to fill the brothers' sacks with food and put their money back in their sacks again (v. 1). But he also tells him to put his own silver cup into the mouth of Benjamin's sack. The next morning they were on their way, no doubt glad that this time everything had gone so well.
The brothers had already felt their guilt over Joseph. So why put them through more?
Their consciences had already been stirred, as we saw when reading Genesis 42:21, but the work of repentance needed to go deeper still. So Joseph deals with them further in Genesis 44.
The aim was not only to expose the old crime but to find out what they had become.
In God's moral government the brothers had to be searched even more thoroughly. Joseph is His instrument in devising a still harder test. It was meant not only to carry their self-judgment as far as it could go, but also to prove that their love for their father and their brother was now real and warm — after they had once been so deeply guilty toward both. In this way love joined righteousness in working for their best good.
This is the second time their money goes back into the sacks. The first time, it did not produce thanks. It frightened them.
But Joseph followed up what he had begun. He directed that each man's money go back into his own sack. He wanted to deepen the work in them, past a mere sense of payback for the evil they had done to him. Food for the journey alone might not have had that effect. But money given back would strike them as nothing like an ordinary sale or an ordinary human act… A bad conscience brought God before them. Why else would this ruler act so kindly — a man who suspected they were spies, held one brother in custody, and firmly demanded the one son their father loved so dearly?
One writer sees in that reaction a picture of how people still respond to unearned kindness from God.
Both they and their father were afraid instead of thankful, because they suspected some hidden motive behind it. People are generally like this. They suspect there must be some "catch" when the free grace of God in Christ Jesus is preached.
The verse names the steward, but the plan is not his.
The chief steward did that which his lord told him to do. He had no authority to exercise his own judgment.
The shock ahead was real. But the writers weigh it against both its purpose and its length.
Joseph, a picture of Christ, was here to carry out the probing that was needed. It would clear away all the past wrong and form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers… After all, the pain of the method used was very short — no more than a few hours, compared with what Joseph himself drank so deeply for years. And the same day brought forgiveness, joy and tender love.
These chapters carry more than family history. They sketch how God brings people to repentance, and how He will deal with Israel.
In Genesis 42 to 44, Joseph's brothers picture the twelve tribes of Israel (including Judah) in their future restoration, when they will be brought to accept the rejected but true Joseph. Their story also brings to light certain principles about the work of restoration and about what true repentance is.
- Full sacks. Joseph's order gives them more than they asked for: food to the brim and their money back. All of it aims at their hearts.
- Hidden hook. The same delivery that fed them carried the test. It would lead them to repentance without a word of accusation.
- Uneasy grace. Unearned kindness frightens a guilty conscience. People still suspect a catch when God offers free grace.
- Deeper work. Regret had already surfaced in chapter 42. Repentance had to go deeper before Joseph could reveal himself.
- Short pain. The distress lasted hours; Joseph had borne years. Forgiveness and love came the same day.
And put my cup, the silver cup, in the mouth of the sack of the youngest, and his grain-money. And he did according to the word of Joseph which he had spoken.
Joseph feasts his brothers and sends them home with full sacks. But he has his steward hide his own silver cup in the youngest brother's sack, and that raises the hardest question in the story: why does a man who loves his brothers set a trap for them?
Joseph never confronts his brothers with what they did to him twenty years earlier. He arranges the sacks so that they arrive at it themselves.
Joseph now shows his wisdom in a way that leads his brothers to repentance without accusing them. He told his steward to fill their sacks with food and put their money back in the sacks again. On top of that, he tells him to put his own silver cup in the mouth of Benjamin's sack. The next morning they were on their way, no doubt rejoicing that this time everything had gone so well.
Joseph already knows who they are and longs to tell them who he is. One thing stands in the way, and the hidden cup is aimed at it.
He will give them a feast, but in such a way that they cannot help seeing that their history is known… But before Joseph can reveal himself to them, they must be exposed before Joseph. That is why Joseph's cup is put in Benjamin's sack.
The cup goes into one sack only — the youngest brother's. That puts the brothers back where they stood years before: a favoured younger brother about to be lost, and the rest free to walk away.
This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. In spirit they were going back to the place where they had committed the whole offence. In the field of Dothan, in Gen. 37, they had to answer this: would they sacrifice their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy and their malice? Now Benjamin is claimed as a prisoner because of the cup found in his sack — claimed as one who has forfeited his life and liberty to the lord of Egypt. In the same way the question is put to them: would they sacrifice him too, and go on home, easy and careless and satisfied?
Nobody stole anything. That is the point: the charge they cannot answer is not the one the steward brings.
Joseph's silver cup was in one of their sacks, so they had to come back… Tell me, what iniquity was there in relation to the cup? None; but it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in days gone by.
Why a cup? In the ancient world a ruler's cup carried a meaning of its own.
The cup is a symbol of a verdict: the ruler of the feast decided who received it, in what order, and what it held… A judging or "divining cup" was a common thing among ancient peoples, and Joseph points to that idea in Gen. 44:15. Now this cup may hold either happiness or condemnation.
Did Joseph really use the cup for divining? One writer doubts it.
It would be hard to make me believe that Joseph used magic at all, and that is the idea behind divining here. I have very little doubt that Joseph was hiding who he really was. He gave them the impression that he was skilled in the magic arts of the Egyptians, and was nothing other than an Egyptian lord… He did not use the cup to reach his brothers' affections, but as a way of reaching their consciences.
Joseph's motive and Joseph's method are two different things.
Severe as the trial was, love prompted it in the fear of God. Still, we may feel that the method he used was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian… Joseph acted according to his own measure, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life that surrounded him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approving them or excusing them… And the steward knew well what his master intended.
The ordeal did not last long.
This is what led to the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there deeply troubled the brothers… After all, the pain of the method used was very short, and the same day brought forgiveness, joy and tender love.
- Hidden: the cup goes in secretly. Joseph wants to lead his brothers to repentance, not accuse them.
- Placed: it goes into Benjamin's sack. The youngest and best-loved son is now at risk — Dothan all over again.
- False: they never stole the cup. The charge is empty, and that is what makes it reach their real guilt.
- Exposed: Joseph stays hidden until their guilt is out in the open.
- Brief: the pain lasts hours, and forgiveness, joy and tender love follow the same day.
In the morning, when it was light, the men were sent away, they and their asses.
At daybreak the brothers leave Egypt with full sacks, sure that all has gone well this time. They do not know about the silver cup hidden in Benjamin's sack, and that quiet departure opens the hardest test they will ever face.
Joseph had already set his plan in motion before they rode away.
Joseph's wisdom now shows itself in a way that leads his brothers to repentance without accusing them. He told his steward to fill the brothers' sacks with food and again put their money back in their sacks (v. 1). But besides this he tells him to put his own silver cup in the mouth of Benjamin's sack. The next morning they were on their way, no doubt rejoicing that this time everything had gone so well.
Why would a man who loves these men put them through this? One writer says the test served God's own purpose for them.
God's moral government required that the brothers be searched even more deeply. Joseph is His instrument, and he plans a still harder test. It was not only to carry their self-judgment through to the very end. It was also to prove that their love for their father and their brother was now real and warm, after their deep guilt toward both of them long ago. Love joined righteousness in working this way for their best good.
Commentators differ on the method itself. Kelly defends Joseph's aim, yet he says the method is no model for a believer today:
The trial was severe, but love chose it in the fear of God. Still, we may feel that the method he used was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian… Joseph acted according to his own measure of light, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life around him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approving them and without excusing them.
The road they take that morning leads them back to an old scene. The same pieces are in place: Benjamin in danger, and a father at home who will grieve.
Joseph's cup is put in Benjamin's sack… and they set out on their journey. Simple as it seems, this is the crisis. Their own lips will now have to give the verdict, for the question is about to be put to them: are they what they once were, or have they received a heart of flesh? Will Benjamin's sorrows move them, when Joseph's cries once failed to? Will the grief of their old father at home plead with their hearts, as it once did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. In the field of Dothan they had to answer whether they would sacrifice their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy and their malice.
Joseph could have ended the suspense at any moment. He restrained himself, and the restraint was itself love.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He longs in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret. But he holds himself back in love, because love's time to show itself has not yet come… While they enjoy all this favour, "they drank and were merry with him." Yet they must learn other lessons before he can be merry with them. They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in him… Before Joseph can be revealed to them, they must first stand exposed before Joseph. That is why Joseph's cup is placed in Benjamin's sack.
The distress of that day was real. It was also short.
No doubt the shock of finding it there troubled the brothers sharply. But it had to be so, where sin of the deepest kind lay behind everything. This was only a way to make that sin truly felt and judged. And the pain of the method was very short — no more than a few hours, next to what Joseph drank so deeply for years — and that same day ended in forgiveness, joy and tender love.
- Sent — The brothers leave at daybreak, sure all is well. They do not know that the cup in Benjamin's sack has turned the journey home into a test.
- Searched — Joseph never accuses them. He arranges things so that they accuse themselves and judge their own sin to the full.
- Staged — Benjamin in danger, an old father waiting at home: it is the field of Dothan again, and this time their own lips must give the verdict.
- Silent — Love holds back. They enjoy his gifts but do not yet know him, and he will not show himself until they stand exposed before him.
- Short — The pain lasted hours, not years, and that very day ended in forgiveness, joy and tender love.
They were gone out of the city, [and] not [yet] far off, when Joseph said to him who was over his house, Up! follow after the men; and when thou overtakest them, thou shalt say to them, Why have ye rewarded evil for good?
The brothers had left Egypt with full sacks and light hearts, sure that this second journey had gone well. They were barely out of sight of the city when Joseph sent a rider after them with a charge of paying back evil for good — over a cup Joseph himself had put in Benjamin's sack.
One writer traces what happens next:
However, this relief was short lived. Joseph had told his steward to overtake them and accuse them of returning evil for good in stealing Joseph's silver cup (vv. 4-5). Of course such an accusation was a shock to the brothers. They protested that they would not think of such a thing.
The pursuit is not revenge. It is a deliberate probe, aimed at what is still unhealed in the men:
Joseph, who pictures Christ, was here to carry out the probe needed to clear away all the past wrong, and to form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers. It was for God's sake and their sakes, not his own. He wanted the reality and the evidence of a divine work in their conscience and heart. This is why the cup went into Benjamin's sack.
A false charge is a hard way to reach a conscience. One writer weighs the motive and the method separately:
The trial was severe, yet love directed it in the fear of God. Even so, we may feel that the way he chose was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to the Christian… Joseph acted according to his measure, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life around him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approval or apology.
The charge is false, and that is what makes it work. The brothers could have defended themselves and taken offence. Instead the old sin surfaced:
They were innocent, indeed, about the cup. But this means nothing to their consciences… They had been called spies when they were true men. Now they were treated as common thieves, though they were honest men. They might have said this was too bad… But no — nothing of this — that was not the way of Joseph's brothers now. They had once hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
The same writer weighs what this moment asks of them:
But this, simple as it seems, is the crisis… Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do? Will the grief of the aged father at home plead with their heart, as once it did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were returning, in spirit, to the place where all their offence was committed.
Joseph does not make himself known yet. He sends a steward with a charge instead. One writer sees a set order here:
However, before Joseph can be revealed to them they must be exposed before Joseph. To this end Joseph's cup is placed in Benjamin's sack. After they leave, Joseph's steward chases them and charges them with taking the cup. They protest their innocence.
Another writer carries the same order forward to Israel:
Notice only that here repentance is tied directly to the rejection of Joseph. This is brought home to the conscience of Joseph's brothers. So in the end it will be with Israel. It is not a matter of the law here — that comes after Sinai — but of the Messiah, whom Joseph pictures. Their consciences are fully convinced, and they go back over all the circumstances of his rejection. It is only gradually that Joseph reveals himself, and with many exercises of heart, which his dealings work in his brothers.
- Charge. Joseph's steward overtakes them just outside the city and accuses them of returning evil for good. The charge shocks them, and they protest that they would never do such a thing.
- Probe. The cup in Benjamin's sack was a deliberate test. It was meant to form a new heart and spirit in the brothers, for God's sake and theirs, not Joseph's.
- Honesty. Love directed the trial. Yet the method is not what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian. Scripture reports the facts without approval or apology.
- Memory. The false charge carries them back, in spirit, to the field of Dothan. Will Benjamin's sorrow move them where Joseph's cries did not?
- Revelation. Exposure comes before disclosure. The brothers must be exposed before Joseph reveals himself, and Israel will one day repent the same way over the Messiah it rejected.
Is not this [it] in which my lord drinks, and in which indeed he divines? Ye have done evil [in] what ye have done.
The steward says the missing cup is the one his master drinks from and uses to read hidden things. Yet Joseph had ordered that cup hidden in Benjamin's sack himself. So did Joseph practice divination, and what did he want from such a charge?
Joseph arranged the whole thing in advance. His aim was not punishment. He wanted a change of heart in men who had never faced what they had done.
Joseph's wisdom now shows itself in a way that leads his brothers to repentance without accusing them. He told his steward to fill their sacks with food and to put his own silver cup into the mouth of Benjamin's sack. The next morning they were on their way, no doubt glad that this time everything had gone so well.
One commentator doubts that Joseph used enchantments at all. He also rejects the idea that the cup was there to test the brothers' feelings.
In the first place, it would be hard to make me believe that Joseph used enchantments at all. That is the thought here in divining. I have very little doubt that Joseph was hiding his true self from them. He gave them the impression that he knew the magic arts of the Egyptians, and was simply an Egyptian lord. But I have no pronounced opinion on the subject. In the second place, the cup was not used to reach his brothers' affections. It was a means of reaching their consciences. The Lord will deal with the nation of Israel in this same way when He takes them up again. He will bring them to admit their guilt in rejecting Him.
Commentators differ here, and this one says plainly that he holds no settled opinion.
Under Joseph's questions the brothers stop hiding. Being fully known is what makes a person at home in the Lord's presence. The writer below quotes an older translation of verse 15, where the ESV reads "practice divination."
Under the searching questions of Joseph the whole truth is confessed. Joseph can say, "What deed is this that you have done?" "Do you not know that such a man as I can certainly make trial?" And this is ever the way grace takes. That is how the Lord dealt with a sinful woman "near the field that Jacob had given to his son Joseph." "Go, call your husband" was only another way of saying, "What deed is this that you have done?" He made Himself known to that guilty sinner as the One who can "certainly divine," for she said, "He told me all that I ever did." And no one can be happy and at home in the presence of the Lord of glory until they have learnt that the Lord knows the very worst thing about them — and yet loves them.
One writer grants that the method belonged to Joseph's setting and his limits. It is not a standard for us to copy.
Severe as the trial was, love dictated it in the fear of God. Still, we may feel that the method he chose was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian. Joseph acted up to the measure he had, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life around him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approving them and without excusing them.
The purpose was not cruelty or revenge. The same writer weighs the cost against the outcome.
He did it for God's sake and for their sakes, and not for his own. He wanted a real work of God in their conscience and heart, and the evidence of it. This dictated the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there deeply troubled the brothers. But that is how it must be when sin of the deepest kind lay at the bottom of it all. The cup was only a means to make them feel that sin and judge it. After all, the pain of the means employed was very brief... and the same day followed with forgiveness and joy and tender love.
The charge sets in motion the very doom the brothers once handed to Joseph. Judah takes it on himself instead of escaping it.
They were horror-stricken when the search found the cup in Benjamin's sack. All turned back to Egypt, and now Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom to which he had consigned Joseph. When they reached that point, relief came... He had dealt wisely with them.
- Planted — Joseph ordered the cup hidden, so the charge is a planned test, not a real theft.
- Disguise — The talk of divining fits Joseph's cover as an Egyptian lord. One commentator doubts he used enchantments at all.
- Conscience — Joseph aimed the cup at their conscience, not their feelings. It exposes the brothers before it comforts them.
- Known — The One who can divine already knows the worst about us. No one is at home in His presence until they learn that He knows it and still loves them.
- Relief — Judah offers to take the slavery he once handed to Joseph. That same day the pain gives way to forgiveness and love.
And he overtook them, and he spoke to them these words.
The brothers have left the city, relieved that the trip to Egypt has gone well. Then Joseph's steward overtakes them with a charge of theft — a charge Joseph knew was false.
The steward is only a messenger. Joseph told him whom to chase and what to say, and the charge he carries is one of ingratitude.
Their relief was short lived. Joseph had told his steward to overtake them and accuse them of paying back evil for good by stealing Joseph's silver cup. Of course such an accusation was a shock to the brothers. They protested that they would not think of such a thing. They had found money in their sacks and brought it back. Surely that proved they were not thieves.
Why would Joseph press a charge he knew was false? Nothing here is an accident. The cup in Benjamin's sack and the words on the road serve one purpose.
Joseph, as a picture of Christ, was here to carry out a necessary test. It was meant to clear away all the past wrong, and to form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers. He did it for God's sake and for their sakes, not for his own, so that a divine work in their conscience and heart would be both real and clear. This dictated the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there deeply troubled the brothers. But it had to be so, since the deepest kind of sin lay under it all. This was only a way to make them feel that sin and judge it. After all, the pain of the method used was very brief — a few hours, compared with what Joseph drank so deeply for years — and that same day brought forgiveness, joy, and tender love.
A plain difficulty sits on the surface. The accusation was untrue, and the steward knew it was untrue when he spoke it.
Severe as the trial was, love dictated it in the fear of God. Still, we may feel that the method he chose was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian... Joseph acted according to the measure he had, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life around him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approving them and without excusing them... But the written word is always the truth about things, whatever that truth may be. God alone gives us this... And the steward knew well what his master intended.
Years before, in a field called Dothan, these same men ignored a brother's cries. The steward's pursuit puts them back in that place.
This, simple as it seems, is the crisis. Their own lips will now have to give the verdict. The question is about to be put to them: are they the men they once were, or has a heart of flesh been given to them? Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do? Will the grief of the aged father at home plead with their heart, as once it did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again.
Joseph could have told them who he was at any point. He waits, and the delay is deliberate.
Before Joseph can reveal himself to them, they must first be exposed before him. That is why Joseph's cup is put in Benjamin's sack.
One writer reads the whole scene as a picture of Israel's own repentance, still to come.
Here the repentance is directly connected with the rejection of Joseph. This is brought home to the conscience of Joseph's brothers. So in the end will it be with Israel... Their consciences are fully convinced, and they go back over everything that happened when they rejected him. Joseph reveals himself only step by step, through the many exercises of heart that his dealings work in his brothers.
- Scripted. The steward invents nothing. He speaks the words Joseph gave him, and he knew well what his master intended.
- Probing. The false charge is a probe, aimed at forming a new heart and a new spirit — for God's sake and theirs, not Joseph's.
- Placed. The cup goes into Benjamin's sack, and the brothers stand in the field of Dothan again. Will Benjamin's sorrow move them this time?
- Exposed. Joseph waits to reveal himself until his brothers stand exposed before him.
- Slow. Joseph reveals himself step by step, and so it will be in the end with Israel.
And they said to him, Why does my lord speak such words as these? Far be it from thy servants to do such a thing!
Joseph's steward overtakes the brothers on the road and accuses them of stealing. They deny it at once, and they are telling the truth — so what is a false charge meant to uncover?
Their "Far be it from your servants" is more than a denial. They also offer evidence.
Of course such an accusation was a shock to the brothers. They protested that they would not think of such a thing. They had found money in their sacks and brought it back. That was surely proof that they were not thieves. They are so sure of this that they say the man found with the silver cup should die, and the rest would become Joseph's slaves.
They stake a man's life and their own freedom on it.
They were innocent, but the charge still did its work. It reached past the cup and found what they had buried.
Tell me, what wrong was there about the cup? None. But it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their past. The poet said it well: "Conscience makes cowards of us all." Their state was miserable as they say to Joseph, "let not your anger burn against your servant, for you are like Pharaoh himself" (Gen. 44:18). But the truth must come out. And it is a great thing when God reaches the conscience like this.
The silver cup in a sack brings back the silver they once took for a brother.
The cup did not reach Benjamin's sack by accident. One writer explains what Joseph was aiming at.
Joseph, as a picture of Christ, was here to carry out the probe needed to clear away all the past mischief, and to form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers. He did it for God's sake and for theirs, not for his own, so that a work of God in their conscience and heart would be real and visible. This dictated the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of its discovery there acutely troubled the brothers. But it had to be so, since the deepest kind of sin lay under it all. This was only a way to make that sin properly felt and judged. After all, the pain of the means employed was very brief... and the same day followed with forgiveness and joy and tender love.
Within hours their tone changes. The men who called the charge unthinkable stop defending themselves.
They really were innocent about the cup. But that counts for nothing in their consciences, and nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. Its offence is its object. The brothers might have spoken up for their innocence. They might have felt hurt at being misunderstood and falsely accused again and again. They had been called spies when they were true men. Now they were treated as common thieves, though they were honest. They might have said this was too bad... But no — nothing of that — these were not the same brothers of Joseph any more. They had once hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
One writer sees the same order repeating in Israel's future.
Notice that here the repentance is directly connected with the rejection of Joseph. That is what presses on the conscience of Joseph's brothers. So in the end it will be with Israel. It is not a matter of the law here — that we shall have after Sinai — but of Joseph as a picture of the Messiah. Their consciences are fully convinced, and they go back over everything that happened when they rejected him. Joseph reveals himself only step by step, through the deep searching of heart that his dealings work in his brothers.
- Innocent — They had not taken the cup. Pointing to the money they brought back was a fair defence.
- Probed — There was no sin about the cup. The false charge reached the real one: the silver they once took for Joseph.
- Loved — Joseph put the cup there for their sake, to form a new heart in them. The pain lasted hours; forgiveness came the same day.
- Silenced — Conviction stopped them pleading a clean record. Once they hid guilt under a lie; now they hide innocence under confession.
- Restored — Israel will follow the same order. Conscience is reached over a rejected brother, then that brother reveals himself.
Behold, the money that we found in our sacks' mouths we have brought again to thee from the land of Canaan; and how should we steal out of thy lord's house silver or gold?
Joseph's steward has caught up with the brothers and accused them of stealing his master's silver cup. Their reply points to their own record — they had already carried back money found in their sacks — and it is a true defence that still collapses.
On their first trip the grain money had turned up in their sacks. They carried it back instead of keeping it.
Of course such an accusation was a shock to the brothers. They protested that they would not think of such a thing. They had found the money in their sacks and brought it back. That was surely proof that they were not thieves (vv. 7-8). They are so confident that they say this: if the silver cup is found with one of them, let him die, and the rest will be Joseph's slaves (v. 9).
They are so sure of themselves that they name the penalty for the guilty one.
They were telling the truth about the cup. But notice what they do not say when the steward finds it.
They really were innocent about the cup. But that counts for nothing in their consciences, and nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. The offence is all it looks at… The brothers might have spoken up about their innocence, and been hurt that people misunderstood them and accused them falsely again and again. People had called them spies when they were true men, and now they were treated like common thieves, though they were honest men. They might have said this was too bad… But no — nothing of this. Once they had hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
There was no theft at all. Yet the charge still did its work, and it reached back into their past.
Joseph says, "What deed is this that you have done?" and Judah says, "How can we clear ourselves?" Friend, are you anxious to clear yourself? Listen to me. Confess your sins… Tell me, what iniquity was there in relation to the cup? None; but it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in days gone by.
The cup they never stole brought back the twenty pieces of silver they could not forget.
Their answer to the steward has two parts, and both stand on their own record. That record holds more than money.
Before Joseph can reveal himself to them, they must first be exposed in front of him. So Joseph has his cup put in Benjamin's sack. The brothers set out, and Joseph's steward chases them and charges them with taking the cup. They protest their innocence… Then they profess their honesty. Is it likely that men who are so honest with money would be guilty of a petty theft? But remember: these are the men who once sold their brother into slavery for twenty miserable pieces of silver. Men who had done that were quite capable of stealing a silver cup, whatever they protested. So the charge is not so unreasonable, unless they have really repented of the past.
They had made the same claim before, and it contradicted itself.
They have protested that they are true men, and in the same breath they say, "one is no more," knowing full well that if Joseph is gone from their lives, their own wickedness is the reason. They stand in front of the very one they rejected, with hearts that never repented, and still claim to be honest men.
The man setting the test is the brother they sold. He was not doing it for himself.
He did this for God's sake and for their sakes, not for his own. He wanted a real work of God in their conscience and heart, with clear evidence of it. That is what put the cup in Benjamin's sack… But it had to be this way, because sin of the deepest kind lay at the bottom of everything. This was only a means to make that sin felt and judged as it deserved. After all, the pain of the method he used was very short… and the same day followed with forgiveness and joy and tender love.
- Honest. The returned money was real proof. The brothers were not thieves, and their protest was true as far as it went.
- Not enough. A clean record on the cup said nothing about the brother they sold, and conviction "loses sight of everything but sin."
- Roused. They had no guilt at all about the cup. Yet it "served to rouse conscience" and brought back the twenty pieces of silver.
- Exposed. Joseph could not reveal himself until they were exposed. Their protest of innocence and their claim of honesty had to fall first.
- Loved. The one who set the test was the brother they wronged. The pain was brief, and forgiveness, joy and tender love came the same day.
With whomsoever of thy servants it is found, let him die; and we also will be my lord's bondmen.
Accused of stealing Joseph's silver cup, the brothers answer with a sweeping offer: let the thief die, and make slaves of the rest of us. They are telling the truth about the cup. Their real guilt lies somewhere else.
Their confidence rests on their own recent conduct, and they stake their lives on it.
Of course such an accusation was a shock to the brothers. They protested that they would not think of such a thing. They had found the money in their sacks and brought it back. Surely that was proof they were not thieves. They are so confident of this that they say: if the silver cup is found with one of them, he should die, and the rest would be slaves to Joseph.
The terms they propose are heavier than the terms they receive. The steward, acting on instructions, narrows the penalty and lets the others walk free.
The steward approved of their words, but his own answer was far milder. Of course Joseph had instructed him. He tells them that the guilty one would be kept as a slave to Joseph and the rest could go free. The search began at the eldest, finishing with the youngest, in whose sack the silver cup was found. What a shock to them all! What a traumatic experience for Benjamin who knew himself innocent!
The cup did not reach Benjamin's sack by accident. Joseph aimed it at something older and deeper than a theft.
Joseph was here to carry out the test needed to clear up all the past mischief, and to form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers. He did it for God's sake and for their sakes, not for his own, so that a work of God in their conscience and heart would be real and evident. This dictated the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there deeply troubled the brothers. But it had to be that way, because the deepest kind of sin lay under it all. This was only a means to make them feel it and judge it as they should.
Kelly defends the motive, but not the method:
Severe as the trial was, love dictated it in the fear of God, though we may feel that the mode adopted was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to the Christian… Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without sanction or apology.
The rash sentence in this verse sets up a scene the brothers have lived through before: one favoured son of Rachel condemned, and the rest free to go home.
Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do? Will the grief of the aged father at home plead with their heart, as once it did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were going back, in spirit, to the place where they had done all their wrong. In the field of Dothan, in Genesis 37, they had to answer one question: would they sacrifice their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy, and their malice? Here Benjamin is claimed as a captive, because the cup was found in his sack. He is claimed as a man who has forfeited life and liberty to the lord of Egypt. In the same way, they must now say whether they would sacrifice him, and go on their way home, easy and careless and satisfied.
They could have argued their case. Instead they drop the defence entirely.
They were innocent, indeed, as to the cup. But this is nothing to their consciences, and nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. The offence is all it looks at. "For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me." … They had once hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
The slavery they offer so freely here becomes real. It falls on the man who once sold a brother into it.
They were accused of stealing the cup, though they were guiltless of it. They declare that they are willing for the offender to die, and for the rest to be slaves in Egypt. … Now Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom to which he had consigned Joseph. When this was reached, relief came.
- Boast — Sure of their clean record on the cup, they name their own penalty: death for the thief, slavery for the rest.
- Mercy — The steward at once softens their terms, keeping only the guilty one and freeing the others.
- Probe — The planted cup was a test by design. It aimed at an older, deeper sin, not at a theft.
- Exposure — Back in spirit at the field of Dothan, they drop a defence they could have won. Conviction stops arguing about the cup and confesses.
- Substitution — Judah takes in earnest the slavery they had offered so easily, and only then does relief come.
And he said, Now also [let] it [be] according to your words let him with whom it is found be my bondman, but ye shall be blameless.
Joseph's steward has just accused the brothers of theft, and they swore a rash oath: let the guilty man die, and the rest of us be slaves. His reply cuts that down to one man and one penalty, and so sets up the test of what these ten men have become.
The brothers had offered far more than the steward asked. Acting on Joseph's orders, he scales their oath back to one guilty man and one penalty.
The steward approved of their words, but his answer was far more lenient. Of course Joseph had instructed him. He tells them that Joseph would keep the guilty one as a slave, and the rest could go free.
The hidden cup, the chase and the terms were not revenge. Commentators see a test designed for the brothers' good.
God's moral government required that the brothers be searched even more thoroughly. Joseph is His instrument, and he thinks up a still harder test. It was meant to carry their self-judgment all the way through. It was also meant to prove that their love for their father and their brother was now real and warm — after they had been so deeply guilty toward both long ago. Love joined righteousness in working this way for their highest good.
The steward's words hand the other ten an exit. That exit is the test. Years earlier these men had left one brother behind and gone home untroubled.
Will Benjamin's sorrows move them, when Joseph's cries once failed to? Will their old father's grief at home plead with their heart, as it once did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. In spirit they were going back to the place where they had committed the whole offence.
Dothan is the field where they first handed Joseph over to slavery. Everything repeats: the youngest and best-loved son is lost, the road home is open, and no one is left to accuse them.
The charge itself was false. That is why it worked. A false charge reached a real guilt from years before.
Tell me, what wrong had they done about the cup? None. But it served to wake their conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in earlier days.
They could have insisted on the innocence the steward had just granted them. They do not.
Once they hid their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
The steward found the cup where Joseph had put it. The other ten were free to go. They went back instead.
Will they abandon their brother to slavery, knowing he is innocent? They did this with Joseph; will they do it with Benjamin? Will they go back to Jacob and face his grief with some false story to explain why Benjamin is missing, as they once explained Joseph's loss? Ah, no! Grace has worked in these men; repentance has done its work.
- Sentence — They swore death for the thief and slavery for the rest. On Joseph's instruction, the steward cut it down to one man and one penalty. Mercy was already at work inside the accusation.
- Loophole — "The rest of you shall be innocent" was a door left open on purpose. Love and righteousness designed the test together, and only a changed heart would refuse the way out.
- Dothan — The scene rebuilds their old crime: the best-loved son lost, the road home clear, the father waiting. They face the same question a second time.
- Conscience — There was no real guilt about the cup at all. The false charge reached a true sin buried years back. They stopped trying to clear themselves.
- Proof — The steward offered them their innocence. They refused it and came back with Benjamin. Repentance showed itself not in what they said, but in the freedom they would not use.
And they hasted and laid down every man his sack on the ground, and opened every man his sack.
Ten men stand on the road out of Egypt. They are accused of stealing the silver cup of the man who had just fed them, and they are so sure of themselves that they stake a life and their freedom on the outcome. Verse 11 is the moment the sacks come down in the dust and every mouth is untied. It is the last moment before everything they thought about themselves collapses.
Nobody forces this search on them. They answer the steward's charge with their own record in money matters, and then they set the penalty themselves.
They protested that they would never think of such a thing. They had found the money in their sacks and brought it back. That was surely proof that they were not thieves. They are so sure of this that they say that if the silver cup is found with one of them, he should die and the rest would be slaves to Joseph.
Their defence has a hole in it:
Remember, these are the men who once sold their brother into slavery for twenty small pieces of silver. Men who had acted like that would be quite capable of stealing a silver cup, whatever they protested.
The speed of verse 11 is the speed of a clear conscience. Men with something to hide do not unload in a hurry.
Their relief lasted only as long as the search did.
They quickly took the sacks down. So the man hunted for the cup. He began at the oldest, right to the last — Benjamin's. While he hunted and could not find the cup, they were happy. Then they saw him find the silver cup in Benjamin's sack. How did they feel? They tore their clothes, they were so sad! Twenty years before, they had sold their little brother as a slave. What now?
The cup did not walk into Benjamin's sack. Someone put it there, and he had a purpose far beyond the cup.
Joseph, a picture of Christ, was here to make the search that was needed. It had to clear up all the past wrong and form a new heart and a new spirit in his brothers. He did it for God's sake and for their sakes, not for his own, so that God's work in their conscience and heart might be real and might be seen. That is what put the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there troubled the brothers deeply. But it had to be that way, because sin of the deepest kind lay at the bottom of it all. This was simply the means to make them feel that sin and judge it.
The same writer does not hold Joseph's method up as a model:
The test was severe, but love chose it in the fear of God. Still, we may feel that the way Joseph went about it was nothing like what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian… Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approving them and without excusing them.
They really were innocent of taking the cup. But being innocent of the charge is not the same as being clear before God. When they come back to Joseph, not one of them says a word in his own defence.
They really were innocent about the cup. But that counts for nothing with their consciences… Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. The wrong it has done is all it looks at… The brothers could have spoken of their innocence. They could have felt hurt at being misunderstood and falsely accused like this, again and again… Once they hid their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
Joseph could have named himself at the dinner table. He waits, and the order matters.
Joseph speaks kindly to them. He longs in love over his younger brother. He weeps in love in secret, but he holds himself back in love, because love's time to show itself has not yet come… They are rejoicing in his gifts, but they have yet to rejoice in him. Yet before Joseph can show them who he is, they must stand exposed in front of him. That is why his cup goes into Benjamin's sack.
Commentators read the whole sequence as a picture of a later reconciliation.
Joseph's brothers, in Genesis 42 to 44, are a picture of the twelve tribes of Israel (including Judah) in their future restoration, when they will be led to accept the rejected but true Joseph. Their story also shows us how restoration works and what true repentance is.
- Opened. They lower every sack fast, sure the search will clear them. They have answered the wrong charge.
- Searched. The search runs from eldest to youngest. Their relief lasts right up to the last sack, where it ends.
- Exposed. Nobody stole the cup. Love planted it, so they would feel the sin at the bottom of everything and judge it.
- Convicted. They never plead their innocence about the cup. Conviction sees nothing but sin, so they hide that innocence under a confession.
- Revealed. Joseph waits until they stand exposed, then says who he is. Commentators see here a picture of a reconciliation still ahead.
And he searched carefully he began at the eldest, and ended at the youngest; and the cup was found in Benjamin's sack.
The steward searches the sacks one by one, oldest to youngest, and every brother watches. Why would the ruler of Egypt hide his own cup in the sack of the one brother who never wronged him?
One writer points to the innocent man at the end of the line:
The search began at the eldest, finishing with the youngest, in whose sack the silver cup was found (v. 12). What a shock to them all! What a traumatic experience for Benjamin who knew himself innocent!
The brothers had not touched the cup. One writer asks what their real guilt was:
Tell me, what wrong had they done about the cup? None. But it served to wake up conscience. It brought back the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their past. Well said the poet, "Conscience makes cowards of us all."
Another writer marks what the cup was for:
It was not used to get at the affections of his brothers. It was a means of getting at their consciences.
The cup in Benjamin's sack cost the youngest brother his freedom. The other ten could walk away unharmed. One writer sees the old crime set up a second time. Dothan was the field where they had turned on Joseph years before:
This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were returning, in spirit, to the place where all their offence was committed. In the field of Dothan, in Genesis 37, they had to answer one question. Would they sacrifice their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy, and their malice? Now Benjamin is claimed as a captive because of the cup found in his sack. He is claimed as one who has forfeited life and liberty to the lord of Egypt. The same question is put to them again. Will they sacrifice him, and go on their way home, easy and careless and satisfied?
Another writer sets out the choice the ten men now faced:
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin will go into slavery, as Joseph once filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are completely free, as they were before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do in these circumstances?
One writer explains why Joseph chose such a painful method:
He did it for God's sake and for their sakes, not for his own. He wanted a real and visible work of God in their conscience and heart. That is what put the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of finding it there deeply troubled the brothers. But it must be so where sin of the deepest kind lies at the bottom of everything. This was only a means to make them feel it and judge it. After all, the pain of the means he used was very brief... and the same day ended with forgiveness and joy and tender love.
The same writer adds a caution: "Love dictated it in the fear of God. Yet we may feel that the way he took was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to the Christian."
Once the cup came out of the sack, they stopped defending themselves. One writer weighs that change, and adds a warning:
The memory of their sin now overwhelms them. They give up all attempts to clear themselves, and hand themselves over as guilty... A person may feel any amount of anguish, sorrow and remorse, as Judas Iscariot did, and still have no true conversion and no true change of mind.
One writer sees here a pattern of how God will deal "with the nation of Israel when He takes them up again, and brings them to acknowledge their guilt in rejecting Him" — James Boyd
- Searched. The steward went from eldest to youngest. The cup came out last, in the sack of the one brother who had never wronged Joseph.
- Accused. There was no theft. The false charge existed to reopen a true one — the twenty pieces of silver and the brother they sold.
- Tested. Benjamin now stood where Joseph once stood, and the ten were free to walk home. They faced Dothan a second time.
- Loved. The severity came from love and lasted hours, not years, and the same day ended in forgiveness.
- Broken. They stopped clearing themselves and owned their guilt. That was what Joseph had been working toward.
Then they rent their clothes, and loaded every man his ass, and they returned to the city.
They tore their clothes because the silver cup had turned up in Benjamin's sack. The ten men were free to ride home. Instead they reloaded every donkey and went back to the man who could enslave them. That choice is the hinge of the whole story.
The steward searched the sacks one by one. Each empty sack lifted the brothers' hopes — until he reached Benjamin's.
While he hunted and could not find the cup they were happy, but when they saw him find the silver cup in Benjamin's sack, how did they feel? They tore their clothes, they were so sad! Twenty years before they had sold their little brother for a slave, but now what? Will they turn away and leave Benjamin to be a slave, and go home again? We see how wise and kind Joseph was; he used the same thing to make them remember... God had worked in the hearts of these ten men, so now they would not let their brother be a slave.
Benjamin now stood where Joseph once stood. He was the favourite young son heading for slavery, and his ten older brothers had a clear road home.
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin will go into slavery, as Joseph once filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are completely free, as they were before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do in these circumstances? Will they act again as they did long ago in the fields of Dothan? Will they abandon their brother to slavery knowing him to be innocent?
Their loaded donkeys answered the question. Dothan was the field where they had seized Joseph and sold him; this moment brought them back to it in spirit.
This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were returning, in spirit, to the place where all their offence was committed... Here Benjamin is claimed as a captive, because the cup was found in his sack. He is claimed as one who has forfeited his life and his freedom to the ruler of Egypt. In the same way the question is put to them: will they sacrifice him, and go on their way home, at ease, unconcerned and satisfied?
The direction of their travel says more than their grief does. They turned around, and walked straight into the dreams they had once hated Joseph for.
To repay the governor's kindness with such an evil as stealing his cup filled the brothers with anguish — all the more because the cup was found with Benjamin. No wonder they tore their clothes, and every man loaded his donkey, and they returned to the city heartbroken. And now more than ever they paid Joseph the fullest homage fulfilling his dreams without knowing it, as they fell before him on the ground.
Not one of them had touched the cup. Yet they make no protest about the charge. They confess something else instead.
They were innocent, indeed, when it came to the cup. But this is nothing to their consciences, and nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. Its own offence is all it looks at... They had once hidden their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
But torn clothes on their own prove nothing. Grief over being caught is not the same as a changed mind.
There was, no doubt, a great change in them from that day when Joseph was cast into the pit. A person may feel any amount of anguish, sorrow and remorse, as Judas Iscariot did. There may still be no true conversion and no true change of mind.
The pressure had a purpose. It ended at the point where Judah offered himself in Benjamin's place.
They are accused of stealing the cup, though they are not guilty of it. They declare that they are willing for the guilty one to die... They are horror-stricken when the search finds the cup in Benjamin's sack. All turned back to Egypt, and now Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom he had forced on Joseph. Once he reached that point, relief came.
- Planted. Joseph had the cup hidden in Benjamin's sack. It was a test to make his brothers remember, not a trap to destroy them.
- Repeated. Benjamin now fills Joseph's old place. He is the loved youngest son bound for slavery, and the other ten are free to walk away.
- Reversed. Torn clothes could be mere remorse. The reloaded donkeys and the road back to the city mark the real change of heart.
- Redirected. Under conviction they never argue about the cup. Sin blots out everything else, and they confess old guilt instead of present innocence.
- Released. Judah offers to take the slave's place, and relief comes at once. The test ends the moment repentance is real.
And Judah and his brethren came to Joseph's house; and he was still there; and they fell down before him to the ground.
Joseph had let the brothers go home to Canaan, but verse 14 finds them back in the city, face down in his house, before a ruler they still do not recognise. Why did ten free men turn around, and what did God do in them on the way?
The cup in Benjamin's sack was more than a trick. It put the brothers back in the test they had faced years before in the fields of Dothan.
They are getting ready to go back to Canaan a second time with food for themselves and their households. Joseph's cup goes into Benjamin's sack, and they set out on their journey. But this, simple as it seems, is the crisis. Their own lips will now have to give the verdict. The question is about to be put to them: are they the men they once were, or have they been given a heart of flesh? Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do? Will their old father's grief at home move their heart, as it once did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again.
Everything about the arrangement invited them to walk away. Benjamin alone would stay behind; the other ten could go home to their father in peace.
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin shall pass into bondage, as once Joseph had filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are perfectly free, as once before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do now? Will they abandon their brother to slavery, knowing he is innocent? They did this to Joseph; will they do it to Benjamin? Will they go back to Jacob and face his grief with some false story about why Benjamin is missing, as they once explained away the loss of Joseph? Ah, no! Grace has been at work in these men, and repentance has done its work.
Kelly sees in their grief and their bowing a picture of a later day.
No wonder that they tore their clothes, and each man loaded his donkey, and returned to the city heartbroken. And now more than ever they paid Joseph the fullest homage as they fell before him on the ground, fulfilling his dreams without knowing it… And what will it be when the picture comes true, and the Lord Himself appears to the Judah of a future day? They will look on Him whom they pierced, and mourn as for an only son, each family on its own, and the wives on their own (Zech. 12).
Their bowing answered one of Joseph's two dreams. The other is still waiting.
There was a fulfilment in picture form when his brothers bowed low to him in Egypt. Their sheaves bowed to his. And they did not fail to honour him after they knew who he was. But this did not meet the full meaning of Joseph's prophetic dreams. The sheaves of Israel are to bow to Messiah. But the second dream shows more: the sun, the moon and the eleven stars — every ruling power in the world, Gentile or Jewish — bowing to Christ in the person of His representative.
The verse names Judah first, ahead of his brothers. He was not the eldest.
It is not Reuben, the eldest, who speaks to Joseph, but Judah, the one who had been leader in selling Joseph as a slave. He does not plead any defense whatever. He himself was not guilty of stealing the cup. Even so, he realizes that God was using this to remind him of their earlier guilt in selling Joseph.
They were innocent of taking the cup, and they had every reason to say so. They did not.
They really were innocent about the cup. But this is nothing to their consciences, and nothing on Judah's lips. Conviction loses sight of everything except sin. Its own offence is all it sees… Once they hid their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph… Confession, and not self-defence, is their language.
- Repeated — The cup in Benjamin's sack put the brothers back in the field of Dothan. The same choice faced them: give up the youngest son, or not.
- Refused — They were free to go home without Benjamin. Turning back instead proved that grace had done its work in them.
- Represented — Judah once led the selling of Joseph. Now he walks in front and offers no defence, because conviction has room for nothing but its own offence.
- Reversed — Face down before a brother they do not recognise, they fulfil his dreams without knowing it.
- Reaching further — This answers only the first of Joseph's dreams. The fuller scene is still ahead: Israel looking on the One they pierced, and every ruling power bowing to Christ.
And Joseph said to them, What deed is this which ye have done? Did ye not know that such a man as I can certainly divine?
Joseph's brothers stand before the Egyptian ruler they do not recognise, caught with his silver cup in Benjamin's sack. His second question raises two puzzles: what knowledge is he claiming, and why is a man who fears God staging a false theft?
The planted cup is not a random trap. It puts the brothers back into the exact situation of the day they sold Joseph, with Benjamin now in his place.
While they are preparing to return to Canaan a second time with food, Joseph's cup is put in Benjamin's sack. Then they set out. But this, simple as it seems, is the crisis. Their own lips will now have to give the verdict. The question is about to be put: are they as they once were, or has a heart of flesh been given to them? Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do?... This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again.
They have done nothing wrong with the cup, and Joseph knows it. The accusation works on something older than the theft it names.
Tell me, what wrong was there about the cup? None; but it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in days gone by. Well said the poet, "Conscience makes cowards of us all"... But the truth must come out. And it is a great thing when God reaches the conscience like this.
The claim Joseph makes would sound ordinary in an Egyptian court. Cups served as tools for fortune-telling.
Among the means of divination named is "divining by the cup," Genesis 44:5, 15. The Egyptians and Persians practised it. It is described like this: they threw small pieces of metal and stones, marked with signs, into the cup, and gathered answers from the marks as they fell. Sometimes they filled the cup with water, and as the sun fell on the water, they saw or imagined images on its surface.
Commentators differ over the word itself. Some take it as the Egyptian practice his position implied. Others follow the margin, which reads that such a man can "certainly make trial" — that is, test and search out.
Read that second way, the question is not about magic. It claims a knowledge that leaves nothing hidden. One writer sees the same searching in how Jesus spoke to a woman whose past He named.
Under the searching questions of Joseph they confess the whole truth. Joseph can say, "What deed is this that you have done?" "Do you not know that such a man as I can certainly make trial?" And this is always the way grace takes. So the Lord dealt with a sinful woman "near the field that Jacob gave to his son Joseph." "Go, call your husband" was only another way of saying, "What deed is this that you have done?" And how truly He made Himself known to that guilty sinner as the One who can "certainly divine," for she said, "He told me all that I ever did." And none can be happy and at home in the presence of the Lord of glory until they have learnt that the Lord knows the very worst thing about them, and yet loves them.
Why cause the pain at all? Because a real work in them mattered more to Joseph than his own relief.
It was for God's sake and their sakes, rather than his own, that there might be the reality and the evidence of a divine work in their conscience and heart. This dictated the cup in Benjamin's sack. No doubt the shock of its discovery there deeply troubled the brothers. But so it must be where sin of the deepest kind lay at the bottom of all... After all, the pain of the means he used was very brief, and the same day brought forgiveness and joy and tender love.
The same writer refuses to turn Joseph's method into a model, and that honesty is part of how Scripture works.
Severe as the trial was, love dictated it in the fear of God. Yet we may feel that the way he chose was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to a Christian... Joseph acted according to his measure, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life around him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approval or excuse.
- Crisis. The planted cup rebuilds the day at Dothan. The brothers must choose again: save themselves, or stand by their brother.
- Conscience. The charge is false, and that is the point. A harmless matter drags a twenty-year-old guilt into the open.
- Cup. Divining by cup was a known Egyptian and Persian practice; the margin also allows the sense that such a man can "certainly make trial."
- Knowledge. Grace searches before it comforts. No one is at ease before the Lord until they know He sees the worst in them and loves them still.
- Love. The pain was short and deliberate. It aimed at a real work in their hearts, and the same day ended in forgiveness.
And Judah said, What shall we say to my lord? what shall we speak, and how justify ourselves? God has found out the iniquity of thy servants; behold, we are my lord's bondmen, both we, and he in whose hand the cup has been found.
The cup turns up in Benjamin's sack, and Judah offers no defence. He confesses a guilt that has nothing to do with the cup — so why does a man stop clearing himself when he is innocent of the theft?
The brothers had stolen nothing. Yet the charge reached back to something far older:
Joseph says, "What deed is this that you have done?" and Judah says, "How can we clear ourselves?" Friend, are you anxious to clear yourself? Listen to me. Confess your sins. That is the necessity... Tell me, what iniquity was there in relation to the cup? None; but it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in days gone by.
Their innocence about the cup was real, but they said nothing in their own favour:
Conviction loses sight of everything but sin. Its own offence is all it looks at... Once they hid their guilt under the lie they sent to their father. Now they are willing to hide their innocence about the cup under the confession they make to Joseph.
Judah does not say the governor found them out. He names God. No human pressure produces that kind of admission:
None can teach like God. He alone can produce in the conscience the true sense of sin, and bring the soul down into the very depths of its own condition in His presence. This is all His own work. People run on in their course of guilt, taking notice of nothing, until the arrow of the Almighty pierces their conscience. Then they are brought into deep searching of heart and intense exercise of soul. Only the rich resources of redeeming love can give them relief.
Three questions come before the confession: what to say, what to speak, how to clear themselves. Judah drops all three in the same breath:
They no longer try to justify themselves about the present, and they do not try to clear themselves about the past. They are convicted sinners "found out" by God; and they entirely submit to Joseph, "we are my lord's servants," they say.
Seeing your state is one thing. Saying it out loud is another:
This is the point God would bring us to. Not only conscience making us see our state, but also the owning of that state. "I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,' and you forgave the iniquity of my sin." So said David in Psalm 32, and so must every soul that really turns to God.
Reuben was the eldest, but Judah answers. Of the brothers, he is the last one you would expect to stand beside a younger son under accusation:
It is not Reuben, the eldest, who speaks to Joseph, but Judah, the one who had been leader in selling Joseph as a slave. He does not plead any defence whatever. He had not been guilty of stealing the cup. Even so, he realises that God was using this to remind him of their earlier guilt in selling Joseph... He does not condemn Benjamin and justify himself. Instead he takes his place with Benjamin and his brothers, willing to accept the place of slaves to Joseph.
Once, their father's grief counted for nothing to Judah. Now it is the thing he cannot bear:
Instead of hardness, great tenderness of feeling, particularly for his old father, Jacob. Then it did not matter how Jacob would feel; now it mattered everything to him. Here we see repentance at work — the kind no one ever regrets.
Deep feeling is not proof of a changed heart. One writer gives a warning:
There may be any amount of anguish, sorrow, and remorse, as it was with Judas Iscariot, and still no true conversion, and no true change of mind.
Some writers see here a picture of Israel's future meeting with Christ:
He is unknown to them, yet He is seeking them. He will make them see their Benjamin as Ben-oni, the son of sorrow — and that as the fruit of their own sin. Benjamin is taken from them: they have lost their part in Messiah, because they rejected Him. Everything deep in Judah's heart is stirred. Then, in his agony for Benjamin, Joseph reveals himself and overwhelms him.
- Found out. The cup was never the real charge. It reached back to a twenty-year-old sin no one had confessed.
- God teaches. Judah names God as the one who uncovered them. Real conviction of sin is His own work, not the pressure of circumstances.
- Clearing stops. Three questions collapse into one confession. They stop defending the present and stop excusing the past.
- Judah changes. The man who led the sale of Joseph will not save himself at a younger brother's expense. Repentance shows in what he is willing to lose.
- Test it. Remorse can run deep and still not be conversion. Real repentance owns the guilt and submits.
And he said, Far be it from me to do so! The man in whose hand the cup has been found, he shall be my bondman; but as for you, go up in peace to your father.
Joseph's silver cup has turned up in Benjamin's sack, and ten frightened men stand again before the brother they once sold. His sentence sounds generous — one man held, the rest sent home in peace — but it is the sharpest test of all.
Joseph plays the part of a ruler with no personal stake in the case. His sentence is really a piece of wisdom aimed at the heart.
Joseph for a moment pretends that all this is nothing to him. This may be their business, if they like, but Benjamin was his. Benjamin is the guilty one, as far as the great man in Egypt is concerned. He must remain, and the rest may take themselves home as fast as they please. What could exceed this? Did Solomon's wisdom in settling the case between the two women exceed it? He sat in the place of judgment and found out the heart of a mother. Does not Joseph here, in the same wisdom from God, find out the heart of his brothers? The heart is indeed laid open.
Their freedom to leave is the point. Joseph has rebuilt the old situation piece by piece, and the same choice is theirs again.
Benjamin stands in the place that once was Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin shall pass into bondage, as once Joseph filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are perfectly free, as once before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do in these circumstances? Will they again act as in the days of old in the fields of Dothan? Will they abandon their brother to slavery knowing him to be innocent?
Dothan was the field where the brothers sold Joseph into slavery. Commentators see this moment as that same scene rebuilt, with the verdict now in the brothers' own hands.
This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were returning, in spirit, to the place where they committed their whole offence. In the field of Dothan, in Genesis 37, they had to answer one question. Would they sacrifice their innocent brother Joseph to their lusts, their envy, and their malice? Here the lord of Egypt claims Benjamin as a captive because of the cup found in his sack. He claims him as one who has forfeited life and liberty. In the same way the question comes to them: would they sacrifice him, and go on home, easy and careless and satisfied?
Nothing here is payback. God's own government stands behind the pressure Joseph applies.
The moral government of God required a still deeper searching of the brothers. Joseph is His instrument, and he devises a still more trying test. It was meant to carry self-judgment to the uttermost, and also to prove that their love for their father and their brother was now sound and strong — after their deep guilt toward both long before. Love joined righteousness in working for their best good.
The same writer does not hold Joseph up as a model of method. The motive was right; Scripture records the means without approval.
Severe as the trial was, love dictated it in the fear of God. Yet we may feel that the way he went about it was in no way what the New Testament would suggest to the Christian… Joseph acted according to his measure, weakened no doubt by the Egyptian life that surrounded him. Scripture tells us the facts as they were, without approval or apology.
The ten do not take the road home. Judah asks for the slave's place Joseph has just given Benjamin.
The last words of Judah to Joseph are refreshing in the way they reach the root of the whole matter. He asks Joseph to let him take the place of Benjamin as a slave, and to let Benjamin return to his father (v. 33). What a contrast to the way Judah had before treated his younger brother Joseph! This was the end Joseph had been seeking. He wanted to see in Judah a genuine repentance, one willing to suffer as he had made his brother suffer.
Some writers see more here than family history. They read the whole sequence as a picture of Israel's restoration.
In Genesis 42 to 44, Joseph's brothers foreshadow the twelve tribes of Israel, Judah included. They picture Israel's future restoration, when they will be led to accept the rejected but true Joseph. Their story also brings to light certain principles about the work of restoration and about true repentance.
- Narrowed — Joseph pins the whole case on one man. The other ten are free to go, with nothing to answer for.
- Released — the freedom to go home in peace is not mercy but the test; it recreates the choice they made at Dothan.
- Refused — they will not take the road home without their brother. The old hardness is gone.
- Loved — the harshness aimed at their good: to prove their love for father and brother real. Commentators note that his method is not a model to copy.
- Reversed — Judah asks for the slave's place he once forced on Joseph, and that is what Joseph was after all along.
Then Judah came near to him, and said, Ah! my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my lord's ears, and let not thine anger burn against thy servant; for thou art even as Pharaoh.
The silver cup has turned up in Benjamin's sack. Judah steps out from his brothers and pleads with the governor of Egypt, not knowing that he is Joseph. What he says will change everything.
One writer points to two things: why Judah became the spokesman, and how far he has changed.
Things were arranged so that the apparent guilt fell on Benjamin. Judah had stood as guarantor for him to Jacob. That brought Judah forward as the spokesman. He had led the way in selling Joseph to the Midianites who were going to Egypt, and he spoke then with a hard heart. Now he has to speak about Benjamin, and what a change is clear! Instead of hardness, great tenderness of feeling, especially for his old father, Jacob. Then it did not matter how Jacob would feel; now it mattered everything to him.
Judah begs that this powerful man's anger will not fall on him. But his fear runs deeper than the missing cup.
Tell me, what wrongdoing was there over the cup? None; but it served to rouse conscience. It brought up the twenty pieces of silver, and the wickedness of their history in days gone by. The poet said it well: "Conscience makes cowards of us all." They were in a miserable state as they say to Joseph, "and let not your anger burn against your servant, for you are like Pharaoh himself." But the truth must come out. And it is a great thing when God reaches the conscience in this way.
Judah simply retells the facts. Yet the facts that once fed the brothers' hatred now come out with affection.
Here we have a most earnest pleading, full of touching affection… We see a heart that has been brought right, at the very point where the sin lay. "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they thought of that once! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother's children, and his father loves him." Can we not feel how far his brothers now were from hating Joseph for their father's love to him!
Judah's plea is tender. But what proves it is real?
This indeed is excellent, but these are words and may be only empty profession. Words must be proved by deeds… As a son he pleads for Jacob. He is our father. He is an old man. He loves Benjamin, and "his life is bound up in the boy's life." How can "I see the evil that would find my father"? As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin. He is "a lad," "a little one," "our youngest brother."
Notice also what Judah does not do. He describes his father's grief in full, though every detail of it accuses him.
There is no attempt on Judah's part to protect himself from the consequences of his crime. There is no attempt to soften his actions or their results. He vividly describes Jacob's grief, which implies their guilt. The account of this is not toned down with a view to improving Judah's current situation.
Judah had promised his father he would answer for Benjamin. His speech ends by making that promise cost him everything.
Judah's appeal is no empty rhetoric; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. "Blot me, I pray you, out of Your book," said Moses. "I could wish myself accursed," said Paul. "Let me be slave instead of Benjamin" (in effect), says Judah. All these said what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
Why plead at all with someone who has already decided to bless you?
Many find it hard to see why we should need intercession with God at all, when He already stands in perfect love towards us. But look at Joseph. He stood in perfect love towards these forgiven sinners. From the beginning he had fully made up his mind to save and bless them. And yet how natural, how fitting, how beautiful and moving is Judah's noble, generous intercession! It did not alter the final outcome (though it may have hastened it), but it altered everything else.
Commentators also read this scene as a picture of Israel's future meeting with Christ. The wording below, "equal to Pharaoh," comes from an older translation of the verse.
He came near to Joseph, as Israel will yet eventually come near to the Lord Jesus without realizing who He is. He asks Joseph not to be angry that he speaks again, "for," he says, "you are equal to Pharaoh." In just the same way, Israel in a coming day will confess that Christ is equal to God.
- Coming near. The brother who took the lead in selling Joseph is the one who now steps closest to him.
- Conscience. The cup was not the real charge; it woke an old guilt, and the plea for mercy came from a heart finally caught.
- Change. The same details that once fed his hatred — an old father, a favoured little one — are now the very things he pleads for.
- Cost. True repentance proves itself by deeds: Judah offers to stay as a slave so Benjamin can go free.
- Consequence. Joseph had already decided to save them, yet Judah's pleading altered everything else — and may have hastened the outcome.
My lord asked his servants, saying, Have ye a father, or a brother?
Judah's plea opens by repeating a question the ruler of Egypt had asked them earlier — a question about a father and a brother. His whole speech grows out of that question. What stands out is how differently these men answer it now.
Years before, these men had hated their father's favourite son. Now the ruler's question makes them speak about a father and a brother:
Here indeed we have a most earnest pleading, full of touching affection... "My lord asked his servants, saying, Have you a father, or a brother?" There we clearly have a heart that has been brought right, exactly where the sin lay. "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they once thought of that! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Can we not feel how far his brothers now were from hating Joseph because their father loved him!
They do not know it, but the ruler is Joseph himself, the brother they wronged. His harsh manner was not coldness. He was aiming at their conscience.
This was taking them up for the good work of restoring their souls, though the process is humbling and painful. Conscience must be dealt with honestly, or nothing is done. And Joseph aims at it at once. He makes himself strange to them. He speaks to them through an interpreter, and he speaks roughly. He must get their conscience into action, whatever it costs him in personal feeling. His love, for the present, must be firm; its hour for melting and tenderness lies ahead.
Now Benjamin is the one in danger, and the same choice faces them again.
Their own lips must now give the verdict. The question is about to be put: are they what they once were, or have they received a heart of flesh? Will the sorrows of Benjamin move them, as the cries of Joseph once failed to do? Will the grief of the aged father at home plead with their heart, as once it did not? This place, this moment, was the field of Dothan again. They were returning, in spirit, to the place where all their offence was committed.
Judah's words about the old man and the boy show whose grief now fills his mind.
Judah's mind has clearly been brought into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to see how the sin affected the Son of God, and what grief it caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
A changed man can still be only a talker. Judah's next words put his own freedom on the line.
These are words, and may be mere empty profession. Words must be proved by deeds. Judah therefore comes forward on behalf of the brothers, and proves the reality of their words by what they are prepared to do. He can say, "Now therefore, please let your servant remain instead of the boy as a servant to my lord, and let the boy go back with his brothers." As a son he pleads for Jacob. He is our father, he is an old man, he loves Benjamin. As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin... But this appeal to Joseph shows more than repentance: it also shows that confidence has in some measure been won. A beautiful picture of that "repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ" which always accompanies a true work of grace.
One commentator reads this scene as more than family history:
Joseph's brothers, in Genesis 42 to 44, foreshadow the twelve tribes of Israel (including Judah) in their future restoration. Then they will be led to accept the rejected but true Joseph. Their story also brings to light certain principles about the work of restoration and the meaning of true repentance.
- Question. The ruler's question about a father and a brother lands where their guilt lay. Their answer shows how much has changed.
- Conscience. Joseph's rough manner was love holding itself back. Conscience must be dealt with first, or nothing else follows.
- Dothan. Benjamin's danger puts them back in the old scene. Their own lips must now say whether they are still the men they were.
- Communion. Judah now shares his father's grief. One writer calls this a central mark of true repentance.
- Surety. He proves it by offering to stay in Egypt himself so the boy can go home free.
And we said to my lord, We have an aged father, and a child born to him in his old age, [yet] young; and his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother; and his father loves him.
Judah is answering the ruler of Egypt with a piece of family history. He names an aged father, a youngest son born late in life, a brother counted dead, and a father's love resting on the son who is left. Every detail he lists was once a reason for jealousy — and the man he is telling it to is the brother he is calling dead.
Judah repeats the very things about Jacob's favourite son that his brothers had once resented. One writer takes the verse phrase by phrase, in an older translation, and shows how each part lands now.
Here indeed we have a most earnest pleading, full of touching affection... "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they once thought of that! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Do we not feel how far all his brothers now were from hating Joseph for Jacob's love to him!
Judah reports one of Rachel's sons dead — to that son's own face. One writer sees here a picture of Israel meeting Christ one day without knowing Him.
He came near to Joseph, as Israel will one day come near to the Lord Jesus without realising who He is... Judah recounts their answer: their father was still alive and had a younger son, the only remaining son of his mother, since her only other son was dead. Not exactly a convincing statement as far as Joseph was concerned!
Judah's argument rests on what the loss will do to Jacob. One writer explains why Benjamin holds that place in his father's heart.
Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of Rachel, the wife Jacob had loved (29:18). Losing Benjamin would be the event most comparable to losing Joseph, whom Jacob loved "more than all his sons" (37:3). Now Benjamin is the most beloved: "and his father loves him" (v. 20). Judah is no longer occupied with how God may act in retribution, but with Jacob's love for his son and his grief.
The same writer draws the principle out of it:
You can see that Judah's mind has been brought into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to appreciate how the Son of God was affected by it, and what grief this caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
Two people fill Judah's speech, and this verse names them both: the old man and the young brother. One writer hears in that plea the measure of their repentance.
Judah's touching appeal breathes a pleading love. That love proves how deep the repentance is that has been worked in their souls. The heart of stone has indeed been changed into a heart of flesh. As a son he pleads for Jacob. He is our father, he is an old man, he loves Benjamin (20)... As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin. He is "a lad," "a little one" (v. 20).
Judah ends by offering to stay as a slave so the boy can go home. Set beside his earlier record, that offer shows how far he has come.
Judah presented the whole case about his father and Benjamin with very great feeling, the kind that can only spring from deep and genuine emotion. His closing request proved it was real: he asked to stand in Benjamin's place. He was ready to face lifelong slavery himself rather than see his brother taken and his father's grey hairs brought down with sorrow to the grave. We saw Judah in a very bad light in both Genesis 37 and Genesis 38. Now we see the complete change that real repentance produces.
Rachel died giving birth to Benjamin. She gave him one name, his father gave him another, and each one carries its own meaning.
The youngest son of Jacob by his beloved wife Rachel. She died at his birth and named him BEN-ONI, meaning "son of my sorrow," but his father named him BENJAMIN, "son of the right hand"... A type of Christ both as exalted at God's right hand (Benjamin), and, as rejected, the occasion of Israel's tribulation in the last days (Ben-oni).
- Reversed — A father's old age, a father's love — these once fed his brothers' hatred of Joseph. Now they are Judah's reasons to beg for Benjamin.
- Blind — He reports a brother's death to that brother's own face. It is a picture of Israel drawing near to Christ without knowing Him.
- Felt — His concern has moved from himself to his father. Repentance brings the mind of the sinner into communion with the mind of God.
- Twofold — He pleads as a son for the old man and as a brother for the young boy. Love that deep proves the heart of stone has become a heart of flesh.
- Offered — The man who once sold a brother now asks to take a brother's place. That complete change is what real repentance produces.
And thou saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down to me, that I may set mine eye on him.
Judah stands before the ruler of Egypt, pleading for his youngest brother's life against a demand that felt cruel. He repeats the ruler's own words back to him — so why did the man with every reason for revenge long to see Benjamin's face?
Judah's first argument looks back to an earlier meeting. He shows that the family had already objected to this very demand.
Judah reminds him that they had protested before. Their father was so attached to Benjamin that he would not think of letting him leave. But Joseph had firmly insisted that if Benjamin did not come, he would refuse to see them (vv. 21-23).
Judah can repeat the demand word for word. Notice how he now speaks about his father and about the boy.
"My lord asked his servants, 'Have you a father, or a brother?'" There we clearly have a heart that has been brought right, exactly where the sin lay. "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they thought of that once! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Do we not feel how far the hearts of all his brothers were from hating Joseph now because of Jacob's love for him!
The demand could sound cold, like an order to produce a suspect. What happened when Joseph saw Benjamin points the other way.
When Joseph sees him in Egypt, he begins, "Is this your youngest brother, of whom you spoke to me?" But his iron self-control breaks down. He has only time to say, "God be gracious to you, my son," and then he hurries out to hide his tears.
Joseph had settled his kindness long before this scene. The delay was not in his heart but in theirs.
Joseph, when he saw them, knew them, but they did not know him. He had purposes of grace toward them, as his conduct throughout proved. No bitterness, no vindictiveness was found in him whom they had cruelly treated. He would have them at ease before him, and at home with him; but repentance must first be worked in them. How did he bring this about? They must judge themselves for the past.
From the end of the story, his rough treatment looks different.
At first sight, Joseph's dealings appear strange, rough and arbitrary. We can now see that wisdom governed them — wisdom that reached its aim: the true restoration of his brothers.
Commentators also read Rachel's two sons as a picture of Christ. A "type" here means a person whose story pictures Christ in advance.
Joseph's brothers had rejected him, a picture of Israel's rejection of the Lord Jesus. Joseph is therefore a type of Christ in suffering before exaltation. Benjamin ("son of the right hand") is a type of Christ, the Messiah, reigning in glory.
On that reading, the wish to see the boy is a longing with a purpose behind it.
But Joseph's heart longs after Benjamin. That is, Christ longs to display this character of power for them. For this they must first come to repentance. He uses the Messiah of their hopes and prophecies to bring their hearts back to Himself, the true one.
- Demand. Joseph would not see the brothers again unless the youngest came with them. Judah repeats that condition word for word.
- Design. The rough treatment was not temper but method. Dealings that look strange at first turn out to be wisdom aimed at restoration.
- Delay. Joseph had settled on grace from the start. What was missing was repentance in his brothers. They had to judge themselves for the past before he could have them at ease with him.
- Desire. The wish to set eyes on the boy was love, not suspicion. When Joseph saw Benjamin, his self-control collapsed and he left the room to weep.
- Display. Read as a picture, Benjamin is the "son of the right hand," Christ reigning in glory. The longing to bring him near shows that Christ waits to show that power to His people. First, repentance brings their hearts back to Him.
And we said to my lord, The youth cannot leave his father if he should leave his father, [his father] would die.
Judah stands before the governor of Egypt and retells the whole story, including what the brothers said when they were first ordered to bring Benjamin down. Why should an old man's life hang on one young son, and why is Judah — who once helped break that father's heart — the one pleading for him?
Judah repeats things the brothers had already said. What has changed is the feeling behind them:
Here indeed we have a most earnest pleading, full of touching affection... "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they once thought of that! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Do we not feel how far his brothers' hearts now were from hating Joseph because Jacob loved him!
Judah's words about his father dying have a source. Notice where they come from:
Verse 22 puts the matter very eloquently: "If he should leave his father, his father would die." Verse 29 does the same: "And if you take this one also from me, and harm should come to him, you will bring down my grey hairs with misery to Sheol." These words echo Jacob's own words after the loss of Joseph (37:35).
That echo shows what repentance had done to Judah's mind:
Judah's mind has clearly been brought into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to appreciate how his sin affected the Son of God, and what grief it caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
Joseph designed the whole situation as a test. Would these men do again what they did before?
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin shall pass into bondage, as once Joseph had filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are perfectly free, as once before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do in these circumstances?... Will they abandon their brother to slavery knowing him to be innocent?... Will they return to Jacob to face his grief with some false story to account for the absence of Benjamin as once they had accounted for the loss of Joseph? Ah, no! grace has worked in these men, repentance has done its work.
A confession can be just talk. Judah's plea ends with an offer that costs him everything:
Words must be proved by deeds. Judah, therefore, comes forward on behalf of the brothers, and proves the reality of their words by what they are prepared to do. He can say, "Let your servant remain instead of the boy as a servant to my lord, and let the boy go back with his brothers." The pleading love that breathes through Judah's touching appeal proves how deep a repentance has been worked in their souls. The heart of stone has indeed been changed into a heart of flesh. As a son he pleads for Jacob: he is our father, he is an old man, he loves Benjamin, and "his life is bound up in the boy's life." As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin.
Judah steps forward and offers to take the boy's place himself, of his own free will. Writers see a larger pattern in that:
No one among Israel's sons was so fit and strong an intercessor as Judah. He stood there as the head of the family, since Reuben and the others had been set aside. He also stood as the voluntary surety. So Christ "bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors."
The change in these men went all the way down:
Their envy and selfish cruelty had given way to tender love for their father and for his affection for the younger son of Rachel. The old jealousy was uprooted; and the one who took the lead was ready to become a slave to the governor, so that Benjamin might return to be his father's joy and comfort, instead of death if he stayed a slave.
- Echo. Judah's warning that the father would die repeats Jacob's own words of grief after losing Joseph. The sorrow has landed on the man who caused it.
- Communion. True repentance brings the offender's mind into communion with the mind of the one he grieved — and, in the end, with the mind of God.
- Test. Joseph put Benjamin in his own old place — best loved, innocent, headed for slavery. Would the brothers walk away a second time?
- Proof. Words alone can be empty; Judah proved his by offering to stay as a slave so the boy could go home.
- Surety. Judah answers for another at his own cost. Commentators see there the pattern of Christ, who bore the sin of many and intercedes for transgressors.
And thou saidst to thy servants, Unless your youngest brother come down with you, ye shall see my face no more.
Judah stands before the ruler of Egypt and retells the whole story of how his family came to be there. Then he quotes the governor's own terms back to him: no youngest brother, no audience. Everything the brothers need — food, life, their father's peace — now hangs on the one boy their father cannot bear to lose.
The demand was not a formality. One writer points out that Joseph set up the whole situation to copy the scene of the old crime. He wanted to test what the brothers said about themselves.
They have said, "We are honest men." So Joseph will place them in a situation that will show whether at last they can act as true brothers and true sons. With the utmost wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they will have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
One writer reads Joseph and Benjamin together as a picture of Christ. Joseph is the brother who was rejected and then raised to power far from home. Benjamin is the son of his father's right hand. On that reading, Joseph's condition is not a whim. It is a necessity.
There can be no restoration and no reconciliation until Joseph and Benjamin are together. There is relief, it is true, but no deliverance for Israel. He who was separated from his brothers, but is now in glory, must have the son of his father's right hand. This is Christ rejected but exalted on high, and taking on as well the character of the man of power who deals with the earth... So this became the great question: how to bring Benjamin down — how to connect him with Joseph. But the truth is, there was another moral need to meet — how to get their hearts and their consciences set right all round.
Judah repeats the governor's terms word for word, with no excuse. The way he now speaks about his father and the boy gives him away:
Here we see a heart that has been put right, exactly where the sin lay. "We have a father, an old man." There was no tearing of his heart now! "And a young brother, the child of his old age." How little they thought of that once! "His brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother's children, and his father loves him." Do we not feel how far all his brothers' hearts now were from hating Joseph because of Jacob's love for him!
Judah's whole argument rests on what losing the boy would do to the old man at home. One commentator finds the mark of true repentance in that.
Judah's mind evidently has been brought into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to see how the sin touched the Son of God, and what grief it caused for God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
Judah had more at stake than his brothers. One writer explains why he is the one who pleads:
Judah in particular had made himself the guarantor for Benjamin, so he was now in a dreadful position. What could he do now but plead for consideration from the governor?
This verse shuts a door. What follows in the story opens it, and the ruler they feared drops the disguise.
True repentance is answered. Joseph can no longer control himself — he weeps, and demands all others leave... He no longer speaks harshly to them, nor does he use an interpreter. Instead, he speaks these meaningful words: "I am Joseph." He says to them, "Come near to me, please." All notions of distance have disappeared.
- Condition. Joseph made the youngest brother the price of an audience: no Benjamin, no face.
- Design. The demand re-stages the old crime. Ten men again stand between a favoured younger brother and a grieving father.
- Necessity. As a picture, there is no reconciliation until Joseph and the son of his father's right hand come together, and until hearts and consciences come right.
- Evidence. Judah repeats the terms without excuse. He speaks of his father's love for the boy with no jealousy left. He feels the wrong from his father's side, not only his own.
- Reversal. The face withheld is the face revealed: "I am Joseph… Come near to me." Every distance the test created is gone.
And it came to pass when we came up to thy servant my father, we told him the words of my lord.
Judah is pleading before the ruler of Egypt. He retraces the whole story: the demand to bring Benjamin, the journey home, and the words they carried back to their old father. Why does Scripture slow down to record what the sons told their father?
This story could have been short. One writer gives two reasons why God's Word tells it in full:
We might have summed up the restoration of Joseph's brothers in two or three sentences. God's Word, however, describes it down to the smallest details. One reason may well be that it is vital to understand the truth of repentance and restoration. Another reason, sadly, may be that restoration is often a lengthy process. This is not because God is slow to forgive but because the human heart is slow to repent.
Judah says they passed on the words of his lord. He then describes what those words cost his father, with nothing edited to help his own case:
There is no attempt on Judah's part to protect himself from the consequences of his crime. There is no attempt to soften his actions or their results. He vividly describes Jacob's grief, which implies their guilt. The account is not toned down with a view to improving Judah's current situation.
The same writer sets this against a confession that leaves the worst part out:
Everyone honest enough to admit it will confirm how easy this is. We stress some details and leave out or play down others. We make our failure sound less serious, so the damage seems smaller. Here is an example of such a softened confession. Aaron said, "I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf." The actual account says that he "fashioned it with a graving tool and made a golden calf" (Exodus 32:4, 24).
Judah repeats the very things that once made his brothers hate Joseph — a father's love for the youngest son. Now he speaks of them with no resentment:
Here we have a most earnest plea, full of affection... It shows a heart put right, exactly where the sin lay. "We have a father, an old man." There was no tearing of his heart now! "And a young brother, the child of his old age." How little they thought of that once! "His brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother's children, and his father loves him." How far his brothers now were from hating Joseph because their father loved him!
Judah's whole plea turns on what his words would do to Jacob. Once Jacob's feelings meant nothing to him:
Instead of hardness, great tenderness of feeling, particularly for his old father, Jacob. Then it mattered nothing how Jacob would feel; now it mattered everything to him. Here we see the working of a repentance not to be repented of.
One writer draws a wider principle from this change:
Judah's mind has clearly come into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It makes the soul see how the Son of God felt that sin, and what grief it caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
One writer sets Judah's pleading in a wider order of events: forgiveness first, then a stretch of discipline and intercession.
Discipline and intercession mark the time between the forgiveness of sins and the public recognition — the adoption, as Romans 8 calls it... No one, however, was so fit and strong an intercessor among Israel's sons as Judah. Reuben and the others had been set aside, so Judah stood as the head of the family. He also stood there as the voluntary surety. In the same way Christ "bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors."
- Report. Judah retells the whole errand, down to the words he carried home to his father. God's Word keeps these small details so we can grasp repentance and restoration.
- Reality. Judah shades nothing to improve his own position. Aaron's confession left out his own hand in making the calf; Judah lets the full weight of his father's grief stand.
- Reversal. The very things that once fed his hatred — an old man's love for his youngest son — he now speaks of with tenderness. His heart came right at the exact point where the sin lay.
- Ransom. Judah stands as the voluntary surety and pleads for his brother — and in him commentators see Christ, who "bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors."
- Restoration. Restoration is often a long process — not because God is slow to forgive, but because the human heart is slow to repent.
And our father said, Go again, buy us a little food.
Judah stands before the ruler of Egypt with his youngest brother under arrest, and he retells the family's story from the start. One ordinary line from his father — go back and buy a little food — shows why they returned, what they expected, and how far their hearts had moved.
The brothers had no plan to return to Egypt. Only the empty sacks put them back on the road — and even then they waited for their father to speak first.
As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed on hold. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts. They had to find God above their hopes as much as their fears. He turned their faults to their profit, yet was abundant in fitting mercy to His own glory. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt; and it is not Reuben but Judah who states the case.
Two words in the father's order are worth weighing: buy and little.
Jacob first says they must not go; then, "Go again, buy us a little food." The words "buy" and "little" usually go together. Someone who thinks of buying salvation only expects a little of it. And indeed there is no one on earth who can pay for more than a little.
The same writer points out how late and how unwillingly they came to the man who could save them.
But they will not go to their saviour until they have proved that every other source is used up. Even then they go very unwillingly. And there is every sign that, if they had known who he was, they would sooner have gone to the other end of the earth.
Judah could have shaded the story to help his own case. Instead he repeats his father's words and the family's grief just as they were. The account tells against him as he tells it.
Judah's determination proves that he is not trying to protect himself from the consequences of his crime. He does not soften what he did or what came of it. He describes Jacob's grief vividly, and that grief points to the guilt of Joseph's brothers. He does not tone the account down to improve his own situation.
Judah's speech keeps circling back to his old father. That is where the change in him shows.
Instead of hardness, we see great tenderness of feeling, above all for his old father, Jacob. Then it did not matter how Jacob would feel; now it mattered everything to him. Here we see the working of a repentance that no one ever regrets.
Kelly hears the same change in every clause of the speech:
Here we plainly have a heart that has been brought right, at the very point where the sin lay. "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now!
Judah's retelling ends with a proposal: let him stay as a slave so the boy can go home. That offer is what proves the story was not just a well-told excuse.
Deeds must prove words. So Judah comes forward on behalf of his brothers, and proves their words are real by what they are prepared to do... A beautiful picture of that "repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ" which always goes with a true work of grace.
Michael Hardt sees the brothers as a picture of the twelve tribes of Israel, "in their future restoration when they will be led to accept the rejected but true Joseph" (Michael Hardt).
- Hunger. The brothers moved only when the grain ran out. Need, not desire, sent them back to the one they had wronged.
- A little. Whoever thinks of buying help expects only a little — and no one on earth can pay for more than a little.
- Reluctance. They tried every other source first, and even then they hardly wanted to go.
- Honesty. Judah repeats the whole story without softening it. Every detail deepens his own guilt.
- Love. His father's heart once meant nothing to him. Now it means everything, and he offers himself as a slave to spare it.
But we said, We cannot go down if our youngest brother be with us, then will we go down; for we cannot see the man's face unless our youngest brother is with us.
Judah stands before the ruler of Egypt, repeating what the brothers had told their father back home: without Benjamin, there was no point going back. His words raise two questions: why the ruler set that condition, and what has changed in men who once hated their father's favourite son.
The brothers had no room to negotiate. The ruler set the terms, and hunger forced the family to accept them.
As long as the food lasted, the dreaded condition stayed out of sight. But when their supply ran out, they had to face the facts. God proved to be above their hopes as much as above their fears, turning their faults to their profit. The sons left it to their father to propose a fresh visit to Egypt; and it was Judah, not Reuben, who stated the case. They were absolutely forbidden to see the ruler's face without Benjamin. With him they were ready to go down and buy the food they needed; without him they dared not go.
Judah repeats the family conversation plainly. In the same speech he describes an old father, a small child of his old age, and a brother the father loves. That love once made these men hate Joseph.
Here we clearly have a heart that has been brought right, exactly where the sin lay. "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." There was no tearing at his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they once thought of that! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother's children, and his father loves him." Do we not feel how far the hearts of all his brothers now were from hating Joseph because of Jacob's love for him!
The speaker is a surprise. Commentators point out that a storyteller would not have chosen him.
To anyone who has gained anything from prophecy, it is clear that a novelist would have picked Reuben as the natural one to take up the case, going by Genesis 37. Judah would have looked far from promising, especially when we read of the disgusting figure he cuts in Genesis 38. But the truth according to God is that Judah was the one whom grace had now fitted for the work.
Judah does not stop at words.
Judah's appeal is no empty rhetoric; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. "Blot me, I pray you, out of your book," said Moses. "I could wish myself accursed," said Paul. "Let me be a slave instead of Benjamin," says Judah in effect. All these said what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
But why plead at all with someone who has already decided to bless you?
Many find it hard to see why we should need to intercede with God at all, when His attitude towards us is already one of perfect love. Well, here Joseph was in an attitude of perfect love towards these forgiven sinners. From the beginning he had fully made up his mind to save and bless them. And yet Judah's intercession is so natural, so fitting and fine, so beautiful and moving — noble, generous and magnificent. It did not alter the final outcome (though it may have hastened it), but it altered everything else.
Commentators also see a larger picture in the two brothers. The ruler's face stays hidden until the younger one comes.
Joseph is, as we know, Christ once rejected and suffering, now exalted: this is the One whom Israel does not know. A Christ who simply triumphs and reigns on earth is the Benjamin found among them. This is true both in the days of the Lord's rejection and in the last days. They were ready for the conqueror; the Sufferer — not knowing their own deep need — they have refused. Yet the two are really one: even Benjamin was first Ben-oni. For them the Conqueror cannot come until they receive the Sufferer — not merely faith in a sufferer, but the One who has been this. Power lies with Joseph, not with Benjamin.
- Condition — The ruler's terms were absolute: no Benjamin, no face. When the food ran out, the family had to face the facts they had been avoiding.
- Conviction — Judah now speaks of the father's love for the youngest son without bitterness. The jealousy that once drove them is gone.
- Spokesman — Reuben was the obvious candidate and Judah the least likely one. Grace, not natural fitness, put Judah in this place.
- Sacrifice — Judah offers to stay as a slave so Benjamin can go free. Moses and Paul said what they were willing to do; Christ's wounds show what He has done.
- Sight — Benjamin pictures the reigning Christ Israel wants; Joseph is the rejected Sufferer they refuse. The two are one, and they will not see the face until they receive both.
And thy servant my father said to us, Ye know that my wife bore me two [sons];
Egypt's ruler is about to take Judah's youngest brother as a slave. Judah answers by repeating his father's own words — and the man listening is the other of the two sons those words name.
Joseph's handling of his brothers was not cruelty or whim. He set up circumstances that forced the past to repeat itself. That way the brothers could not just claim a change — they had to show it.
They had sinned as brothers before their brother, and as sons before their father. One they treated with the utmost cruelty, the other with the grossest deception. Now the time has come to test them. Joseph will prove how far any real change has taken place in them. They have said, "We are true men." So Joseph will set up circumstances to show whether at last they can act as true brothers and true sons. With the utmost wisdom Joseph will re-enact the past. Once again ten men will have to act in regard to a younger brother. Once again they will have to face an aged father with his great love for the younger son.
Jacob speaks of Rachel as "my wife," and counts only her two sons. That one sentence explains why Benjamin is not just one brother among twelve.
Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of Rachel, the wife Jacob had loved (29:18). Losing Benjamin would be the loss closest to losing Joseph, whom Jacob loved "more than all his sons" (37:3). Now Benjamin is the most beloved: "and his father loves him" (v. 20), and "his life is bound up with his life" (v. 30). Judah is no longer occupied with how God may act in retribution, but with Jacob's love for his son and his grief.
The brothers once hated Joseph because their father loved him. Now Judah says that same favouritism out loud. The resentment is gone.
"We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they thought of that once! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Can we not feel it? His brothers were now far from hating Joseph for Jacob's love of him!
Judah has stopped thinking about his own danger. His father's sorrow has become his own sorrow, and he says so without softening a word of it.
We can see that Judah's mind has come into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the sinner into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to realise how that sin affected the Son of God, and what grief it caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
He could have trimmed the story to make himself look better. He does the opposite.
He describes Jacob's grief in vivid detail, and that implies the guilt of the brothers. He does not soften the account to improve his own situation.
Judah had led the sale of Joseph. Now he offers to stay in Egypt as a slave so his youngest brother can go home.
They had sold Joseph into slavery, and Judah had been the leader in it. They had to face slavery as their own doom, Judah above all, before they could know grace on Joseph's part. Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom to which he had consigned Joseph. When he reached that point, relief came.
- Repeat — Joseph set the old scene up again: ten brothers, one favoured younger son, one grieving father. Real change shows under the same pressure that once exposed the sin.
- Rachel — "My wife bore me two sons" names Joseph and Benjamin. Taking Benjamin would strike Jacob in the same place Joseph's loss struck him.
- Reversed — the father's love for the younger son once fed their hatred. Judah now repeats it with warmth, and that is the clearest proof his heart has turned.
- Realise — real repentance means sharing the grief your sin caused, and telling the story without hiding your own guilt.
- Replace — Judah offers himself for the slavery he once imposed on his brother. At that point the testing stops and relief comes.
and the one went out from me, and I said, He must certainly have been torn in pieces; and I have not seen him [again] hitherto.
Judah stands before Egypt's governor and pleads for Benjamin, quoting his father's grief over a son who went out one day and never came back. He does not know that the governor is that son, and that the wild beast was his brothers' lie.
Jacob did not reach that conclusion on his own. His sons steered him into it years earlier.
The account shows the crafty way Jacob was led to jump to the conclusion that a wild animal had killed and eaten Joseph. His brothers avoided telling a plain lie; they only implied it, and Jacob fell into their trap.
So when Judah repeats "Surely he has been torn to pieces," he echoes the very words his own cruelty put in his father's mouth.
Nothing forced this old wound into the open. Judah brought it up himself, in front of the one person on earth who knew the truth.
They deceived their father. Ah, you say, bad men. Have you never deceived your father? ... You may try to forget your sins, but wait a moment — God has a great memory and a long look-out. Many, many years rolled by; in fact they let about forty years roll by before it all came out. But note this: it must come out. "Be sure your sin will find you out," is a God-given word.
The brothers had already felt regret over Joseph. Regret was not what Joseph was waiting for.
Contrary to popular belief, repentance is more than just a feeling of regret. Joseph's brothers, who had boldly stated "we are honest," did feel regret. Their words in chapter 42 prove two things. First, their conscience was active. Second, they regretted the consequence of their deed: "And now behold, his blood also is required." But this is not yet true repentance. More is required before Joseph reveals himself.
In his plea Judah dwells on the two things he once resented: an old father's love, and a favoured younger son.
There we have clearly a heart that has been brought right, exactly where the sin lay. "We said to my lord, We have a father, an old man." Ah, there was no tearing of his heart now! "And a child of his old age, a little one." How little they thought of that once! "And his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loves him." Do we not feel it? The hearts of all his brothers were now far from hating Joseph because of Jacob's love for him!
Judah could have edited this detail out. Mentioning a lost son and a grieving father only made his side of the case look worse.
Judah's determination proves that he does not try to shield himself from the consequences of his crime. He does not try to soften his actions or their results. He describes Jacob's grief vividly, and that implies the guilt of Joseph's brothers. He does not tone down the account to improve his current situation.
The same writer takes this one step further, from Jacob to God.
Judah's mind has clearly been brought into fellowship with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into fellowship with the mind of God. It leads the soul to see how the Son of God was affected by the sin, and what grief this caused God.
Judah has just named the loss of one brother. Now he offers to lose himself rather than let a second one go.
They had to face slavery as their doom, Judah especially, before they could know Joseph's grace... Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom to which he had consigned Joseph. When this point was reached, relief came.
Commentators see more in this lost brother than one family's grief.
Joseph was a clear picture of the One who was rejected by His brothers and separated from them. Yet He is now exalted in a place outside them, for the blessing of people all over the world.
- Found out. The words Judah quotes echo his own lie. Decades of silence did not bury it: be sure your sin will find you out.
- Not enough. Regret over consequences is not repentance. The brothers felt that years earlier, and Joseph still stayed hidden.
- Feeling rightly. Real repentance brings your mind into fellowship with the mind of the one you wronged. Judah now feels his father's loss as his own.
- Telling truly. Judah describes that grief and softens nothing, though every word deepens his own guilt.
- Standing in. He then offers to take the slavery he once handed to Joseph — and at that point, relief came.
And if ye take this one also from me, and mischief should befall him, ye will bring down my grey hairs with misery to Sheol.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And now, when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad is not with us, -- seeing that his life is bound up with his life,
Judah stands before the ruler of Egypt with one argument left: not evidence, not money, but his father's heart. Joseph's men found the cup in Benjamin's sack. The other brothers can walk away free. Everything now turns on what they do with their father's favourite son.
Joseph arranged the whole scene so that history could repeat itself — or not. They again have the chance to leave a favoured younger brother behind.
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin is to go into slavery, just as Joseph once filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are completely free, as they were before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do now? Will they abandon their brother to slavery, knowing he is innocent?
Jacob had two sons by Rachel, the wife he loved. One was gone. Everything the old man had left now rested on the boy standing in front of Joseph.
Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of Rachel, the wife Jacob had loved (29:18). Losing Benjamin would be the loss most like losing Joseph, whom Jacob loved "more than any other of his sons" (37:3). Now Benjamin is the most loved: "his father loves him" (v. 20) and "his life is bound up in the boy's life" (v. 30). Judah is no longer thinking about how God may punish them. He is thinking about Jacob's love for his son, and his grief.
Judah spells out what that bond means in practice.
Judah pleads with Joseph: if he comes back to Jacob without Benjamin, the shock for his father would be so great that he would die.
Years earlier, a father's love for one son was exactly what the brothers could not bear. Now Judah pleads on the strength of that same love.
Here we have a heart that has been set right at the very point where the sin lay… "A young brother, the child of his old age." How little they thought of that once! "His brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother's children, and his father loves him." Can we not feel how far his brothers now were from hating Joseph because of Jacob's love for him!
Judah now carries in his own mind what the loss would mean to Jacob.
You can see that Judah's mind has come into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to realise how the Son of God was affected by that sin, and what grief it caused for God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
Judah had guaranteed Benjamin's safety to Jacob before the journey. Here he pays on that guarantee with himself.
The offer Judah makes is moderate, and at his own risk: "Send the boy with me… I will be a pledge of his safety." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go. Jacob judged his character well, for Judah honoured that pledge when he stood forward in Egypt and offered himself as a substitute for Benjamin.
Offering to stay as a slave is what turns a moving speech into proof.
Judah laid out the whole case about his father and Benjamin with very deep feeling. Such feeling could only spring from something intense and genuine. He proved it real by his closing plea: let him stand as substitute for Benjamin. He was ready to face lifelong slavery himself rather than see his brother taken and his father brought down in sorrow to the grave. We saw Judah in a very bad light in both Genesis 37 and Genesis 38. Now we see the complete change that real repentance produces.
Joseph had decided on kindness long before Judah opened his mouth. That does not make the pleading pointless.
Many find it hard to see why there should be any need for intercession with God, when He is already full of love towards us. Well, here Joseph was full of love towards these forgiven sinners. From the beginning he had made up his mind to save and bless them. And yet how natural, how fitting, how beautiful and moving is Judah's noble, generous intercession. It did not alter the final outcome (though it may have hastened it), but it altered everything else.
- Test: Joseph put Benjamin in the place he himself had once filled, and left the brothers free to abandon him again.
- Bond: Jacob's life hangs on Benjamin's return. Losing Rachel's second son would repeat the loss of the first.
- Feeling: Judah has entered into his father's grief. That shared mind, not regret alone, is the mark of real repentance.
- Proof: Judah keeps his pledge. He offers himself as a slave in the boy's place.
- Effect: Joseph had settled on love before the plea began. The plea did not change his purpose. It changed the pleaders.
it will come to pass when he sees that the lad is not [there], that he will die; and thy servants will bring down the grey hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to Sheol.
Judah stands before the governor of Egypt and describes what he cannot face: going home to his father without the youngest son. His plea rests on one fact — his father's life is bound up in the boy's — and it is the answer to the test Joseph has set.
Behind Judah's plea stands a scene built to repeat an old one, point for point.
Benjamin stands in the place that once had been Joseph's — the youngest and best-loved son of his father. Benjamin shall pass into bondage, as once Joseph had filled the place of a slave. The ten brothers are perfectly free, as once before, to return to their father in peace. What will they do in these circumstances? Will they again act as in the days of old in the fields of Dothan? Will they abandon their brother to slavery knowing him to be innocent?
The plea itself is the evidence. Judah speaks in two directions at once — for the father and for the boy.
The love that breathes through Judah's moving appeal proves how deeply repentance has done its work in their souls. The heart of stone has truly become a heart of flesh. As a son he pleads for Jacob. He is our father, he is an old man, he loves Benjamin (20), "his life is bound up in the lad's life" (30)... As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin.
Judah's words about his father's death are not his own. They are Jacob's, quoted back.
Judah is no longer taken up with how God may punish them. He is taken up with Jacob's love for his son, and with Jacob's grief... Judah's words here echo Jacob's own words after he lost Joseph (37:35). Judah's mind has clearly come into communion with Jacob's. True repentance brings the mind of the one who has sinned into communion with the mind of God. It leads the soul to see how that sin affected the Son of God, and what grief it caused God. This appears to be a central feature of true repentance.
The change in Judah shows in what he is willing to lose.
He was ready to face slavery for life himself rather than see his brother taken and his father's grey hairs brought down with sorrow to the grave. We saw Judah in a very bad light in both Genesis 37 and Genesis 38. Now we see what a complete change real repentance produces.
One writer sees in this offer a picture of something larger: a man who takes on a debt that is not his, then speaks up for the guilty.
No one among Israel's sons was so fit and strong an intercessor as Judah. He stood there as the head of the family, since Reuben and the others had been set aside. He stood there too as the voluntary surety. In the same way Christ "bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors."
Joseph had decided to save them before Judah opened his mouth.
Many find it hard to understand why there should be any need to plead with God, when He is in an attitude of perfect love towards us. Well, here Joseph was in an attitude of perfect love towards these forgiven sinners. From the start he had made up his mind to save and bless them. And yet how natural, how fitting, how beautiful and moving is Judah's noble, generous, and magnificent plea. It did not change the final outcome (though it may have brought it sooner), but it changed everything else.
Joseph's answer comes next, and it is not the answer a judge would give.
Joseph had not been causing his brothers pain because he wanted to. Everything he did was only to lead them to this place of repentance. He meets them now not as a judge, but as a brother… His love could no longer hide itself. "Make everyone go out from me," he said, and then he made himself known to his brothers. He showed them his thoughts, how kind they were. He set free their guilty conscience, and bound up their broken hearts.
- Test — The cup in Benjamin's sack set up the old crime again. The best-loved son was bound for slavery. The others were free to walk away.
- Grief — Judah passes the test. He describes his father's sorrow in his father's own words. Repentance had reached past regret into shared feeling.
- Surety — The brother who once let a brother go into slavery now offers to go himself. That way his father's grey hairs will not go down in sorrow.
- Intercession — Pleading did not change Joseph's mind. He had already decided to bless them. It changed the pleaders, and everything between them.
- Revelation — Once repentance was real, the hiding ended. Joseph dropped the role of judge, made himself known as a brother, and bound up their broken hearts.
For thy servant became surety for the lad to my father, saying, If I bring him not to thee, then I shall be guilty toward my father all my days.
Judah once let his brother Joseph be sold into slavery. Now he stands before that same brother, not knowing who he is, and offers his own freedom to save Benjamin. The whole chapter has been testing one question: have these men changed?
Judah had already persuaded Jacob to let Benjamin go by pledging himself. Other translations call this standing surety. One writer notes what that promise cost Judah, and that he kept it:
The offer Judah makes is moderate, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me … I will be surety for him." Jacob instantly trusts to him and lets Benjamin go. In doing so, Jacob showed once more how well he read character. Judah nobly kept his pledge of suretyship: he stood up in Egypt and offered himself as a substitute for Benjamin.
Another writer sets that pledge against Judah's past:
What he failed to do in the case of Joseph, he now does in the case of Benjamin; he stands surety for his safety.
The phrase "bear the blame" is stronger in Hebrew than it looks. One writer points out that Judah's word here is the ordinary Hebrew word for "sin":
Judah uses exactly the same word in the book of Genesis, where we must certainly translate it, as the King James Version does, "bear the blame" or "sin" (Gen. 44:32).
So Judah is not offering to feel sorry. He asks to stand as the guilty one for life if Benjamin never goes home.
One writer links Judah's pledge to a word the New Testament uses of Jesus.
In Hebrews 7:22, we read that Jesus was made "a surety of a better covenant." Genesis 43:9 gives an excellent illustration of what suretyship involves. If there is any breakdown, the blame of it must lie for ever on the surety, and everything will be demanded from him. Were there any breakdown in the new covenant, the blame of it would rest upon Christ for ever. But, no! Its stability and the security of all its blessings are ensured for eternity.
The same writer puts it as words the Lord Himself might say:
The new covenant is a declaration of the grace of God; and it is as if our Lord said, "Should it not stand imperishable and for ever, let Me bear the blame of it for ever."
The brothers had already said the right things. Judah's offer turns their words into proof.
This indeed is excellent, but these are words and may be only empty profession. Words must be proved by deeds. So Judah comes forward for his brothers. He proves their words are real by what they are ready to do. He can say, "Let your servant remain instead of the boy as a slave to my lord; and let the boy go up with his brothers." The pleading love that runs through Judah's moving appeal also proves how deep a repentance has been worked in their souls.
Another writer notes what Judah never once tries to do:
This determination proves that Judah makes no attempt to shield himself from the consequences of his crime. He does not try to soften what he did or what it caused. He vividly describes Jacob's grief, which implies their guilt. He does not tone that account down to improve his own position.
Writers treat Judah's speech as a model of intercession. They set it beside two others who offered to take the place of the guilty.
No one among Israel's sons was so fit and strong an intercessor as Judah. He stood there as head of the family and as the voluntary surety: so Christ "bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors." Judah's appeal is no empty rhetoric; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice characterises all true intercession. "Please blot me out of your book," said Moses. "I could wish that I myself were accursed," said Paul. "Let me be slave instead of Benjamin" (in effect), says Judah. All these said what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
- Pledge. Judah made himself surety at his own risk, and here he keeps his word instead of walking away free.
- Blame. The Hebrew behind "bear the blame" is the word for sin. Judah asks to stand as the guilty one in Benjamin's place.
- Surety. Hebrews 7:22 calls Jesus the surety of a better covenant. If it could fail, the blame would rest on Him for ever. It cannot fail.
- Proof. Words must be proved by deeds. Judah softens nothing about his guilt and asks for no escape from the cost.
- Pattern. Self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. Moses, Paul and Judah said what they were willing to do. The wounds of Christ show what He has done.
And now, let thy servant stay, I pray thee, instead of the lad a bondman to my lord, and let the lad go up with his brethren;
Judah once made his younger brother Joseph suffer, and here he offers to suffer in Benjamin's place. The offer answers the question Joseph's long testing has been driving at: have these men really changed?
Joseph had suffered from his brothers' envy of a favoured son. Judah's offer tells him what has become of that envy.
The immense change God had worked in his brothers was now made clear to Joseph. Their envy and selfish cruelty had given way to tender love for their father and for his affection toward the younger son of Rachel. The old jealousy was torn up by the roots. The one who took the lead was ready to become a slave to the governor, so that Benjamin might return and be his father's joy and comfort, instead of his father's death if Benjamin stayed a slave.
Judah's speech was moving. But how can anyone know that a change of heart is real?
This is excellent, but these are words, and words may be empty profession. Words must be proved by deeds. So Judah comes forward on behalf of the brothers, and proves the reality of their words by what they are prepared to do. What is more, the pleading love that breathes through Judah's touching appeal proves how deep the repentance is that has been worked in their souls. The heart of stone has indeed been changed into a heart of flesh.
Before the journey, Judah promised Jacob that he would answer for Benjamin himself. This verse is where he keeps that promise.
Judah makes no large offers at the expense of his sons; the offer he makes is far more moderate, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me … I will be a pledge of his safety." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go. In doing so, Jacob showed again that he could read character. Judah nobly made his pledge good: he stood forward in Egypt and offered himself in Benjamin's place.
Judah is the one asking for mercy, which gives him every reason to play down his part in the crime.
This determination proves that Judah is not trying to protect himself from the consequences of his crime. He does not try to soften what he did or what it caused. He vividly describes Jacob's grief, which implies their guilt — the guilt of Joseph's brothers. He does not tone the account down to improve his own situation.
Standing in for someone else is not unique to Judah. Others in Scripture asked to bear the cost themselves, and one did.
Judah's appeal is no empty rhetoric; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. "Please blot me out of your book," said Moses. "I could wish that I myself were accursed," said Paul. "Let me be a slave instead of Benjamin," says Judah, in effect. All of these said what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
Set the offer beside the way Judah once treated Joseph, and the change is unmistakable.
The last words of Judah to Joseph are refreshing in the way they reach the root of the whole matter. He asks Joseph to let him take Benjamin's place as a slave, and to let Benjamin return to his father. What a contrast to the way Judah had once treated his younger brother Joseph! This was the very end Joseph had been seeking: to see in Judah a genuine repentance that was willing to suffer as he had made his brother suffer. This is the repentance seen in the criminal crucified beside the Lord Jesus. He said that he and the other man deserved the punishment they received.
One commentator reads the scene as a pattern of something still ahead for Israel. The turning point is Judah's willingness to enter the sorrow himself.
Here the repentance is tied directly to the rejection of Joseph, and it comes home to the conscience of Joseph's brothers. So it will be in the end with Israel. It is not a question of the law here; the repentance points to the Messiah. … In the end Judah comes into prominence in connection with Benjamin. He takes his father Israel's sorrow to heart — the sorrow over Benjamin and the loss of Joseph — and puts himself into it. Then Joseph, in his glory, reveals himself to them as their brother.
after It is a lovely scene.
- Uprooted. The envy that once turned on Joseph is gone. Judah now pleads for the favoured younger brother instead of resenting him.
- Proved. Repentance that stops at words proves nothing. Judah's offer to take Benjamin's place proves his words by deeds.
- Honest. He shields himself from nothing. He does not play down the crime or its cost to his father.
- Kept. Judah promised Jacob he would answer for Benjamin. He makes that promise good by standing in Benjamin's place.
- Revealed. Once Judah enters his father's sorrow, Joseph makes himself known. One commentator sees here a pattern of Israel's future meeting with the Messiah.
for how should I go up to my father if the lad were not with me? -- lest I see the evil that would come on my father.
Judah's last words to Egypt's ruler turn the whole Joseph story. He offers to stay as a slave so the youngest brother can go home. He cannot face his father without the boy. That fear raises the real question of these chapters: what has changed in the men who once sold a brother and let their father grieve?
Judah's reason for refusing to go home is not fear of punishment. It is what losing the boy would do to his old father at home.
Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of Rachel, the wife Jacob had loved. Jacob loved Joseph "more than any other of his sons," and losing Benjamin would come closest to that loss. Benjamin is now the most loved son: "his father loves him," and "his life is bound up in the boy's life." Judah is no longer occupied with how God may act in retribution, but with Jacob's love for his son and his grief.
Earlier the brothers said the right words. Words can be empty. This verse tests them.
Judah comes forward for the brothers. He proves their words are real by what they are prepared to do… Love breathes all through Judah's appeal. That pleading love proves how deep the repentance is that has been worked in their souls. The heart of stone has indeed been changed into a heart of flesh. As a son he pleads for Jacob. He is our father, he is an old man, he loves Benjamin, and "his life is bound up in the boy's life." How can I "see the evil that would find my father"? As a true brother he pleads for Benjamin.
Judah had led the plan to sell Joseph into slavery. Now he asks to be the slave himself.
They had sold Joseph into slavery, and Judah had been the leader in that. They had to face slavery as their own doom, Judah above all. Only then could they know the grace Joseph had for them… Judah, to save Benjamin, volunteers to be the slave in his place. He faces the very doom to which he had consigned Joseph. When this was reached, relief came.
Judah does not soften the story to help his own case, either.
This determination proves that Judah does not try to protect himself from the consequences of his crime. He does not try to soften what he did or what it led to. He describes Jacob's grief in vivid terms, which implies their guilt.
Judah asks nothing for himself. Commentators see in that the mark of every genuine plea made on another's behalf.
Judah's appeal is no empty speech; he offers to give himself up to save Benjamin. This spirit of self-sacrifice marks all true intercession. "Please blot me out of your book," said Moses. "I could wish that I myself were accursed," said Paul. "Let me be slave instead of Benjamin," says Judah in effect. All of these said what they were willing to do: the wounds of Christ show what He has done.
Joseph had kept his distance through three chapters of testing. Two simple phrases in Judah's speech ended it.
He wept again as he saw the work of repentance going on in his brothers. In his own way he longed for them deeply. At last Judah's words were too much for him. Conviction of conscience had then ended in restoration of heart. Again and again Judah said "the old man" and "the lad." Those words had an eloquence that prevailed, and Joseph could no longer hold himself back.
Writers read this story as more than family history.
Joseph's brothers, in Genesis 42 to 44, foreshadow the twelve tribes of Israel, Judah included. They picture Israel's future restoration, when they will be led to accept the rejected but true Joseph. Their story also brings to light certain principles about the work of restoration and about true repentance.
- Father first. Judah's plea turns on the old man at home; what he cannot face is not slavery but his father's sorrow.
- Proof, not protest. Earlier the brothers confessed with words. Here Judah proves it by offering to bear the cost himself.
- The same doom. The man who led the sale of one brother into slavery now volunteers for slavery to free another. Only then does relief come.
- Costly pleading. Self-sacrifice is the mark of real intercession. Moses and Paul said what they would give; the wounds of Christ show what He gave.
- Love released. "The old man" and "the lad" on Judah's lips broke Joseph down. He stopped testing and made himself known — a preview, some writers hold, of Israel's future restoration.
And Joseph could not control himself before all them that stood by him, and he cried, Put every man out from me! And no man stood with him when Joseph made himself known to his brethren.
Joseph has hidden who he is and dealt harshly with his brothers. Now his love can hide itself no longer — so why does he empty the room before telling them who he is?
Joseph's harshness had a purpose. Once it has done its work, he stops hiding.
Up to now Joseph has made himself a stranger to his brothers. He spoke roughly and dealt harshly with them, for their consciences had work to do and repentance had to come. But love's strange work is finished, and Joseph can no longer hold back from making himself known. Having exposed the guilt of their hearts, he must make known the love of his heart. Have they discovered the evil of their hearts? Then he will show them the far greater grace of his heart. It knows all their evil, and it can still rise above it in full, free forgiveness.
So why clear the room first?
No stranger was allowed to witness this sacred scene. What stranger could understand or appreciate it? We are called here to watch, as it were, conviction produced by God in the presence of divine grace. And we may say that when these two meet, they settle every question with ease.
The verse says "no one stayed with him." Writers turn that into a lesson about who a guilty person needs when meeting a Saviour.
And when Jesus wants to reveal Himself to sinners, He too says, as it were, "Make everyone go out from Me!" He is the one Mediator. Before Him all pretenders must step aside... No one stood with Joseph when he revealed himself to his guilty brothers. And when the Son of God shows Himself as Saviour to guilty men, there is no need for mediators. No priest on earth and no "saint" in heaven is necessary.
Their consciences were already awake. But knowing your own heart is not what brings rest.
Joseph must make "himself known." Nothing less will satisfy his heart; nothing less will give rest to their hearts. And this is still the way of the loving Saviour with the anxious sinner. Only one discovery will roll away the burden of guilt: that the One against whom we have sinned knows it all, and forgives it all. Knowing our own hearts, however necessary, will bring no rest to the soul. We may mourn over the past and wear ourselves out over our sins. But no discovery of evil in our hearts will bring comfort to the soul. Nor will repentance, however real. Nor will sorrow for sin, however sincere. For rest and peace Jesus must make Himself known. Then we discover with great delight that His heart is full of grace for a man who is full of sin.
Guilty men were standing in front of someone who could have judged them.
Joseph had not been afflicting his brothers willingly. His whole way with them was only to lead them to this place of repentance. He meets them now not as a judge, but as a brother... His love could no longer hide itself. "Make everyone go out from me," he said, and then he made himself known to his brothers. He showed them his thoughts, how kind they were. He set their guilty conscience free and bound up their broken hearts. The channels were now clear, and grace and blessing flowed through in living, refreshing, gladdening streams.
Writers also read the scene forward, to a day still ahead for Israel.
Here, in Genesis 45, Joseph makes himself known to his brothers. And we look on it all as a living picture of that great event to come. All Israel will just as surely be saved, by a distinct act of divine grace and power, once the fullness of the Gentiles has come in (Romans 11:25-27).
- Restraint. Joseph's earlier roughness was love's strange work, holding back until conscience had done its job — then he "can no longer hold back from making himself known."
- Privacy. No stranger could understand this scene, so Joseph clears the room. There conviction meets grace, and together they settle every question.
- Alone. No one stands between Joseph and his brothers. Writers apply this to Christ, the one Mediator: no priest or saint stands beside Him.
- Revelation. Rest never comes from examining our own hearts. It comes when we discover that the One we wronged knows everything and forgives everything.
- Reunion. He meets them as a brother, not a judge — and commentators see in it the day when all Israel will be saved.
And he raised his voice in weeping; and the Egyptians heard, and the house of Pharaoh heard.
Judah's plea has just broken through, and the ruler of Egypt stops hiding who he is. He clears the room of every Egyptian, yet his weeping carries through the walls — so why does the most powerful man in Egypt break down now?
One writer ties the outburst to what God's grace had just done in the brothers:
Now the grace of God has worked genuine repentance in the hearts of the brothers, and in Judah in particular. So Joseph is free to reveal to them His own true identity. He was so deeply affected that he could not restrain himself; and called on all his servants to leave the room.
Earlier Joseph had wept out of sight and kept control of himself. This time he cleared the room and let everything out:
Joseph could not, and would not, hold out any longer. He gave way at once to his pent-up affection. So that he could do it freely and fully, he ordered every attendant to leave his presence. No stranger must interfere in such a scene… All must be out now. In Genesis 42:30 he looked for a place to weep alone, and held himself back. Now he let his feelings out without measure, so that they would be free from their fears and sure of the love that was always in his heart. For he knew well that the discovery must fill them with dread as much as astonishment. And he gave way to weeping so loud that the Egyptians and the house of Pharaoh heard.
One commentator counted Joseph's tears and set them beside the chapters of his rise to power:
The skill and power of Joseph's hands had carried him to the top. The future of his brothers and of all Egypt now lay in those hands. Then the tender compassions of his heart came out, and they expressed themselves in his tears. In Genesis 39 to 41 Joseph's hands are prominent. Genesis 42 to 50, Joseph's tears. These later chapters record that Joseph wept no less than eight times.
What makes the count striking is where the tears are missing:
It is remarkable that there is no mention of Joseph weeping in his earlier years… Even his hard-hearted brothers had to confess it. They said, "we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen" (Genesis 42:21). They saw the distress of his soul, but as far as the record goes they never saw his tears.
You would expect the guilty men to be the ones crying. They are not:
He told his brothers to come near and said to them, "I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt." We might have expected that they would be the ones who wept — first at recognising the great wrong they had done him, and second at the grace that overflowed their evil. But no, the tears were his and not theirs. They had had to bow down before him. But he deserved it, for he towered above them in the things that are truly great in the sight of God. A faint foreshadowing of the greatness of Christ.
Another writer traces the sound back to Judah's pleading, and finds more in it than natural feeling:
He wept again as he saw the work of repentance going on in his brothers. In his own way, he longed for them greatly. At last Judah's words were too much for him. Conviction of conscience had then ended in restoration of heart. "The old man" and "the lad," again and again on Judah's lips, had a power that prevailed. Joseph could no longer hold himself back. He sobbed aloud, and the house of Pharaoh heard him. But these were more than the tears of nature. This was the heart of Christ, or the tears of the Father on the neck of the prodigal son.
One writer sees in this scene a picture of a day still to come:
Joseph's brothers rejected him, and in the land of Egypt he was exalted to the right hand of the throne. There he stood next to the one who set him in the highest place, and his brothers still did not know him. One day the true Joseph will present Himself to the sons of Israel. Will they not grieve in their souls, as Joseph's brothers did while the house of Pharaoh heard it? There was never such genuine mourning as this for the offspring of Jacob.
- Cause. Joseph waits until repentance is real in his brothers. Only then does he say who he is.
- Cry. He empties the room and lets his love pour out. The weeping removes their fear.
- Contrast. The record shows no tears in his years of suffering. They come in his years of power, from a heart that now holds his brothers' future.
- Reach. The sound carries past the closed door. Egypt and Pharaoh's house hear what no stranger could see.
- Result. The scene points to a coming day. Christ will reveal Himself to Israel, and mourning like this will sound again.
And Joseph said to his brethren, I am Joseph. Does my father yet live? And his brethren could not answer him, for they were troubled at his presence.
Joseph finally tells his brothers who he is, and asks one short question about their father. Their silence in reply is the loudest moment in the chapter: guilt standing face to face with the person it wronged.
The brothers had stood in front of Joseph for chapters and still did not know him. One writer draws a wider lesson from that:
Notice, too, that Joseph's brothers do not recognise him. He has to say to them, "I am Joseph," before they knew it was he. And no one can find out God and Christ by searching. No one, by nature's light or human intelligence, ever comes to know the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent. It is entirely a matter of divine revelation and sovereignty. Take three illustrations: the woman at the well; the man born blind; and Saul of Tarsus (John 4 and 9; Acts 9).
Joseph already knew the answer; Judah had just spoken of their father at length. So the question was not for information:
Exquisite indeed, in the way of grace, this was, and perfect in the skill of love. Joseph could have answered this question himself. Judah's speech had already told him the father was still alive. The echo of it was still in his ears, for it was too precious for him to let it go. But Joseph hurried to bring a third person into the scene. He could not allow the servants or officers of the palace to be present, for that would expose his brothers. And yet he dreaded that being alone with him would be too much for them. So he had to bring someone in to share that moment with them — and the very best of all was the one Joseph's word introduces.
Another writer puts the same motive in one line:
He asked at once, "Is my father still alive?" Why ask this? Because of love; he wanted to take away their fear at once, so he brought their father to their memory.
Their fear was real. Joseph does not deny what they did. He answers it by naming the tie he still owns:
That they did fear is clear enough, for we read, "they were dismayed at his presence" (verse 3). Joseph, however, draws them to himself with the cords of love; "Come near to me," he says. "And they came near." Having drawn them to himself, he seeks to remove every fear by reminding them that he is still their brother: "I am Joseph your brother." He says, in effect: "I know full well how you treated me in the past. You hated me, you rejected me, you sold me. But do not be afraid. I am Joseph your brother. I know too that the day of my exaltation has come. You see me — the very one you rejected — in the place of power. Do not be afraid. Though I am supreme, I am still Joseph your brother."
The brothers could not answer. One commentator sees the same silence in people who are forgiven but cannot believe it:
Too many converts are like Joseph's brothers here. They are full of doubts and misgivings. He says to them, "I am Joseph." And his brothers could not answer him, we read, "for they were dismayed at his presence." Their consciences were not at rest, just like many a truly converted soul today. "Fear has to do with punishment," John writes. And oh, how a tormenting fear haunts and harasses so many of Christ's redeemed people! They fear they are not really accepted by God, or perfectly justified before Him, or that they may yet be cast away and perish. Such people need to know the perfect love of God in Christ towards all who believe. And it is this love that casts out fear.
One writer sees this scene as a preview of Israel meeting their Messiah:
"I am Joseph," he tells them. What a shock for them! "Is my father still alive?" He wanted that confirmation from their own lips, but they were so stunned they could not speak (v. 3). What will the result be when the great Messiah of Israel reveals Himself to the nation as the Lord Jesus whom they had crucified? "When they look on me, on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn" (Zech. 12:10). Like Thomas, they will be broken down and confess, "My Lord and my God!" (John 20:28).
- Revealed — They never worked out who he was; he told them. Knowing God comes the same way: by revelation, not investigation.
- Reassured — The question about his father was love's tact. It brought a third person into the room, so being alone with Joseph would not crush them.
- Related — The man in the place of power says "your brother." His new position did not change the relationship.
- Rested — Their silence pictures a forgiven person who still fears. The cure is not better feelings but perfect love believed.
- Returning — One writer reads the scene forward. A rejected brother, now exalted, makes Himself known to a nation that will mourn and confess Him.
And Joseph said to his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you. And they came near. And he said, I am Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt.
In this verse the ruler of Egypt drops his disguise. He speaks to the men who sold him, and two things stand out: he invites them close, and he names the sin between them.
Their crime and his grace meet in one room.
In Genesis 45 the story reaches its wonderful climax. Joseph reveals himself to them. "I am Joseph." The Joseph they had sold as a slave stood before them as ruler over all the land. Yet he met them in all the grace of his heart. He made everyone else leave, and the guilty stood alone in the presence of the saviour.
Joseph could have said "I am Joseph" at their first visit. He waited. Commentators point to what had to happen inside the brothers first.
Joseph, when he saw them, knew them, but they did not know him. He had purposes of grace towards them, as his conduct throughout proved. They had treated him cruelly, yet he held no bitterness and no wish for revenge. He wanted them at ease before him, and at home with him; but first he had to work repentance in them. How did he bring this about? They had to judge themselves for the past.
The pattern holds beyond Joseph's story:
Once conscience has done its work, the Lord can come near and reveal Himself. He never comes and reveals Himself until the sinner takes his true place — is angry with himself.
Before he says a word about himself, Joseph clears the room. Commentators draw two things from that empty room. One is that this scene fits no audience:
Joseph allowed no stranger to watch this sacred scene. What stranger could understand or value it? Here we watch, as it were, conviction worked by God in the presence of the grace of God. When these two come together, they settle every question with ease.
The other is that no one needs to stand between the guilty and the one they wronged:
When Jesus reveals Himself to sinners, He too says, as it were, "Make everyone go out from Me!" He is the one Mediator. Every pretender must step aside before Him... "This Man receives sinners." "Come to Me," He says to them. And more: He says, "Whoever comes to Me I will never cast out."
They had just heard who he was, and could not answer a word. His invitation breaks that silence. His next words name their crime and still claim them as family.
They were afraid; we read that "they were dismayed at his presence" (verse 3). Joseph, however, draws them to himself with the cords of love. "Come near to me," he says. "And they came near." Having drawn them close, he seeks to remove every fear by reminding them that he is still their brother: "I am Joseph your brother." He says, as it were: "I know full well how you treated me in the past. You hated me, you spurned me, you sold me. But do not be afraid — I am Joseph your brother."
They were owed nothing. What they get instead is an invitation:
What would their thoughts have been when he said, "I am Joseph"? Can you imagine their astonishment?... Justice could have demanded their lives. But in grace, "Joseph said, Come near to me, please." And Jesus says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Pardon and welcome are not the same thing. This verse gives both.
It is not only that Joseph is ready to forgive; he desires the company of those he forgives. We rejoice in the grace that meets our need. But how slow we are to see that the One who has removed our guilt wants our company! Christ has come near to us so that we might come near to Him... If love makes us suited to His company, love will not be content without our company.
Writers read this scene as a preview of a day still to come for Israel.
In all this we see a picture of the national repentance of Israel, predicted in Zechariah 12:10-14... They will discover that the One whom they pierced is the LORD Himself. In the same way, the repentance of the brothers here reaches its climax. They discover that the great lord of Egypt is Joseph himself — the one they had pierced with so many sorrows.
- Conscience first. Joseph stayed hidden until his brothers judged themselves. The revealing came after the repenting.
- Room cleared. Joseph sent every stranger out. Conviction and grace settled the matter, with no go-between in the way.
- Come near. Love drew the men who could not speak. Justice could have taken their lives; grace called them close.
- Still your brother. He names what they did, and in the same breath calls himself their brother. They face the sin without fear.
- Company, not just pardon. Forgiveness is only the start. The one who removed their guilt wanted them near him. The whole scene points to the day Israel will recognise the One they pierced.
And now, be not grieved, and be not angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither, for God sent me before you to preserve life.
Joseph has kept his identity hidden while he pressed his brothers hard. Now the ruler of Egypt tells the men who sold him not to torment themselves. His reason is not that the crime was small, but that a hand higher than theirs was at work in it.
Joseph does more than pardon. He works to clear away the regret that would spoil their enjoyment of his love.
They had confessed the sin. Joseph will not only forgive them; he will also remove all lingering regrets and self-reproaches. He will assure them that behind their sin, yes, by means of their sin, God was working out His purposes of blessing. It is true that Joseph has to say, "You sold me here." But he adds, "God sent me before you to save your lives by a great deliverance." So he turns his brothers away from thinking about themselves. He engages their thoughts and affections with himself, his glories, and the blessings that flow to them through his exaltation.
The phrase "save your lives by a great deliverance" comes from verse 7 in an older translation.
There is also a simple inference his brothers could draw from the way he speaks to them.
If he did not want them to be angry with themselves, then certainly he was not angry with them. Wonderful attitude for an exalted ruler!
These words are not spoken to men who are still hiding what they did. Joseph waited until their guilt had surfaced.
But when were these words spoken? Not until the guilty brothers had felt and owned their guilt. Repentance came before the pardon... Joseph "spoke roughly" to his brothers at first. He brought them through deep waters, and made them feel and confess their guilt. But the very moment they took the place of repentance, he took the place of forgiveness.
Joseph names God as the sender without erasing what his brothers did. Both statements stand in the same sentence.
Their wrath had sold Joseph into Egypt. God used their sin to make Joseph the great organiser of the day, saving countless lives. There could be no excusing the terrible sin of Joseph's brothers against their brother. But it must have been a great comfort to their accusing hearts to find that God used the wrath of man to praise Him.
Peter's preaching holds the same two truths together. The same words fit Jesus and those who sinned against Him.
You see the same thing in the Acts of the Apostles. In Acts 2 the apostle Peter tells the convicted people that their killing of Christ had in fact been the carrying out of God's purpose, decided beforehand. The guilt of man was no less, of course... Jesus says, I know you have sinned against Me, and you have not loved Me, but see what God sent Me before you to do. To save your lives by a great deliverance.
The rescue is wider than one family's next meal. Joseph is pointing them to a plan already promised to their forefather Abraham.
Here was the true key. It was not merely the disclosure to Pharaoh and the rescue of Joseph. It was not merely the provision in general, in the unusually long plenty and the equally long famine. It was the carrying out of His plans, made known long before to Abram in Genesis 15. By those plans His ancient people would grow up from the family of Jacob in a foreign land of bondage and affliction. God would judge the nation that oppressed them, and His people would come out with great possessions.
Writers read the whole scene as a shadow of something still ahead for Israel.
This is grace indeed, setting the convicted conscience perfectly at rest. The brothers had already condemned themselves completely. So Joseph had only to pour the blessed balm into their broken hearts. This is all a beautiful picture of God's dealings with Israel in the last days, when they will look on Him whom they have pierced, and mourn.
- Sin. The brothers really did sell him. God's purpose never excuses what they did — "there could be no excusing the terrible sin."
- Confession. Joseph spoke roughly first and comforted second. Repentance came before pardon. Forgiveness met them the moment they owned their guilt.
- Grace. He removes the penalty and the self-reproach. He draws their eyes off themselves and onto himself and his glory.
- Purpose. "God sent me" names a second hand on the same event. God used the wrath of man to serve His plan. Peter later said the same of the cross.
- Life. The aim reaches past the famine. God keeps the promise made to Abraham and brings His people out of bondage with great possessions. It ends in a picture of the day Israel looks on the One they pierced.
For the famine has been these two years in the land; and yet there are five years in which there will be neither ploughing nor harvest.
Joseph has just told his terrified brothers who he is. Now he tells them where they stand in time: two years of famine behind them, five worse years ahead. How could he speak about years that had not yet come? And why did his brothers need to hear it now?
Joseph names the two ends of farming: the plowing that starts a crop and the harvest that gathers it. For five years neither would happen — nothing going into the ground, nothing coming out of it.
'Ploughed' and 'ploughing,' as the same Hebrew word is elsewhere translated. Gen. 45:6; Ex. 34:21; 1 Sam. 8:12.
So the sentence describes a total collapse at both ends of farming — nothing put in and nothing taken out. One writer describes how that worked out in practice, and how far it spread.
There were still five years of famine in Egypt. Though the Egyptians planted fields, they got little or nothing. Soon all lands were starving. They went to Pharaoh for help. He said, "Go to Joseph."
Joseph states the length of the famine as plainly as he states the past. He is not guessing. One writer takes that confidence as an answer to everyone who doubts that God tells the future.
What a lesson follows! It rebukes the shameless unbelief of prophecy found in this generation of people who call themselves Christians. Joseph speaks to his brothers with the calmest confidence, just as he had spoken to the king and court of Egypt. He tells them of five years of famine on top of the two that had already driven them to come for the stores of grain. The years of overflowing plenty had enabled him, by his faith, to lay up those stores against the years of want. Near or distant is alike easy to the revealing Spirit of God. Both are beyond man's power. Unbelief would explain both away.
This was hard news. The hunger that had driven them to Egypt was nowhere near its end. Yet notice what is missing from their reply.
Then he lets them know that the two years of famine they had suffered was only the beginning. There were five years to come. They must have wondered how he knew this, but they did not question his word.
Joseph could have read the same seven years as the story of what his brothers had done to him. Instead he reads them as the story of what God was doing.
One more thing marked Joseph out, as we see in verses 5-8. His eye rested on God, not on circumstances, however hard they had been. The evil actions of his brothers had faded into insignificance in his mind. He recognized that God had been behind all they had done. God had worked it in as part of His plan for salvation and deliverance. We are reminded of the prayer of the early church. They acknowledged that Herod, Pilate, Gentiles and Jews gathered together against the Lord Jesus, and yet only did "whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place" (Acts 4:28). Joseph brought about "a great deliverance." Yet it was very small compared with the deliverance won by the death and resurrection of Christ.
The famine did more than ruin crops. It drove everyone, family and foreigner alike, to the feet of the man they had ignored.
During the days of plenty the world paid little attention to Joseph. We hear nothing of his brothers; they were completely indifferent to him. But when the famine set in, need wakes up… The need calls out a cry for bread. So the Gentiles have to learn, and the brothers discover, that no one can meet the need except the man they once scorned and rejected.
Commentators read Joseph's place in Egypt as a picture of something larger. One writer sees in it God preserving Israel through the long centuries while their Messiah is rejected.
In the same way, it is the Lord Jesus by whom God has in fact preserved Israel. He did it by means of the rejected and exalted One being among the Gentiles, as He has been all through this present age of grace, for many centuries now. Yet Israel has not known the glory of their rejected Messiah.
- Famine. Five years remained with no plowing and no harvest. Nothing would go into the ground and nothing would come out, until every land was starving.
- Forewarning. Joseph named the future as surely as the past. "Near or distant is alike easy to the revealing Spirit of God," so the verse stands against unbelief in prophecy.
- Faith. His brothers "must have wondered how he knew this, but they did not question his word." They could not check the news, but they trusted the man who gave it.
- Focus. Joseph's eye rested on God, not on circumstances or on his brothers' crime. He saw the seven years as part of God's plan for deliverance — a small picture of the far greater deliverance won by Christ.
- Funnel. The years of want awakened need. Need drove family and nations alike to the one man they had scorned — a pattern commentators trace forward to Christ.
So God sent me before you to preserve you a remnant in the earth, and to save you alive by a great deliverance.
Joseph traces the whole story — the sale into Egypt, the years of famine — back to one thing: God sent him ahead so that a remnant would survive. The question the verse forces is how one act can be both their crime and God's sending.
Joseph does not soften what they did. He names it, then places it inside a larger purpose so that their guilt cannot keep torturing them.
As to the past, Joseph cannot allow any regrets to rise up and spoil their enjoyment of his love. "Now therefore," says Joseph, "do not be grieved or angry with yourselves that you sold me here" (verse 5). The sin had been confessed, and Joseph will not only forgive; he will remove every lingering regret and self-reproach. He assures them that behind their sin — yes, by means of their sin — God was working out His purposes of blessing. It is true, "You sold me here," Joseph has to say, but he adds, "God sent me before you to save your lives by a great deliverance." So he frees his brothers from being taken up with themselves. He engages their thoughts and affections with himself, with his glories, and with the blessings that flow to them through his exaltation.
The purpose of God never cancels what the guilty did. Another writer puts both truths side by side without blurring either:
You have been guilty, Joseph says, but God had a purpose in it.
Joseph had kept his identity hidden through the events of Genesis 44 and 45. Comfort comes only after conviction.
So it was in that deeply moving scene between Joseph and his brothers recorded in Genesis 44 and 45. The guilty brothers must pass through deep and painful searching of heart. At last they stand in the presence of the brother they wronged, with the arrow of conviction piercing their inmost soul. Then, but not until then, these soothing words fall on their ears: "God sent me before you to preserve life… So it was not you that sent me here, but God."
Joseph points his brothers to a promise made to Abraham long before any of them were born. (The writers quote an older translation: "a posterity in the earth" and "save your lives by a great deliverance," where the ESV has "a remnant on earth" and "keep alive for you many survivors.")
"And God sent me before you to establish for you a remnant on the earth, and to preserve your lives by a great deliverance." Here was the true key. It was not merely the disclosure to Pharaoh and the rescue of Joseph, nor the general provision through the long plenty and the equally long famine. It was the carrying out of God's plans, revealed long before to Abram in Genesis 15. His ancient people would grow up out of the family of Jacob in a foreign land of bondage and affliction. The oppressing nation would be judged, and they themselves would come out with great wealth.
The line God kept alive reached further than Joseph could see.
Also, God had sent Joseph down into Egypt to preserve on earth a posterity for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He knew what Joseph can hardly have known. Many centuries later, by human descent, the Christ would come from that family line — He who is over all, God blessed forever. Wherever we turn in Scripture, Christ is always before the mind of God. At this point Joseph was the instrument God used to preserve the line of descent that would in the end lead to Him.
Commentators read Joseph here as a picture of Christ.
Joseph was the great saviour of Old Testament days, one of the chief pictures of our Lord Jesus. The name Pharaoh gave him, when he raised him to be lord of all Egypt, carries the meaning of "the Saviour." When he made himself known to his brothers, he worked hard to assure them that God had raised him up to save them: "God sent me… to save your lives by a great deliverance" (Gen. 45:7). By the wisdom God gave him he became the source and centre of salvation to the whole world. At once Acts 4:12 comes to mind: "And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved."
Being saved by Joseph did not mean knowing Joseph.
Joseph had saved their lives with a great deliverance (Gen. 45:7); he had put them in possession of "the best of the land" of Egypt, and he had fed them with bread (Gen. 47:12). For seventeen years they had received Joseph's generosity. They had been the special objects of his loving care. Yet when a crisis comes, it becomes clear that they have no personal knowledge of Joseph. They know something of his greatness and glory. They know the great work he has done. They know every blessing they enjoy comes from his position and work. But they had no personal acquaintance with his mind and heart.
- Sin. They sold him; that is never denied. God worked behind their sin, and even by means of it, without excusing it.
- Sending. The same journey to Egypt was their crime and God's commission — "God sent me before you."
- Survival. God preserved a remnant, and with it the promise made to Abraham and the family line that would lead to Christ.
- Salvation. The rescue of one family from famine pictures a greater deliverance, with salvation found in no other name.
- Seeing. Knowing the deliverance is not the same as knowing the deliverer. Seventeen years of Joseph's kindness still left his brothers strangers to his mind and heart.
And now it was not you [that] sent me here, but God; and he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and governor over all the land of Egypt.
Joseph stands at the top of Egypt, facing the brothers who sold him there. He tells them who was behind the journey. His words settle two questions: what to do with their guilt, and how a man robbed of everything became father to Pharaoh.
Joseph does not deny what they did. He looks past it to the hand that used it. One writer shows what Joseph was looking at instead:
His eye rested on God and not on circumstances, however hard they had been. The evil actions of the brothers had faded into insignificance in his mind. He recognised that God had been behind all that they had done, and had worked it in as part of His plan for salvation and deliverance. This reminds us of that prayer of the early church. They acknowledged that Herod, Pilate, Gentiles and Jews had gathered together against the Lord Jesus. Yet they had only accomplished "whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place" (Acts 4:28).
The sin was real. God used it. Another writer shows how Joseph lifts his brothers out of their regret:
He will assure them that behind their sin, yes, by means of their sin, God was working out His purposes of blessing. It is true that Joseph has to say, "You sold me here." But he adds, "God sent me before you to save your lives by a great deliverance." So he frees his brothers from being taken up with themselves. He fills their thoughts and affections with himself, his glories, and the blessings that flow to them through his exaltation.
The order matters. Earlier, these words would have meant nothing. They land only after the brothers stop defending themselves:
The guilty brothers must pass through deep and painful exercises of heart. At last they stand in the presence of the brother they injured, with the arrow of conviction piercing their inmost soul. Then, but not until then, these soothing words fall on their ears: "Now, therefore, do not be distressed or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here… So it was not you who sent me here, but God."
Joseph lists his rank as three distinct things, and each one describes a different sphere:
So then, he assures them, it was not they who had sent Joseph to Egypt, but God. God had made him a father to Pharaoh — one whose goodness and guidance Pharaoh depended on. God had made him "lord of all his house," with authority second only to Pharaoh in his household. And God had made him ruler over all the land of Egypt, in charge of all governmental affairs.
That first title is the strangest, since Joseph was the younger man and the subject. It describes a role rather than an age:
In Genesis 45:8 Joseph is described as a father to Pharaoh. This suggests that he cared for the king's interests: he would advise him, and administer his affairs.
One writer points to what Joseph became for the men who wronged him:
The great point is not the repentance of the brothers, but the generous love of Joseph. He was saviour, for as he says, God sent him ahead of them to preserve a posterity in the earth and to save their lives by a great deliverance. He was also lord, for he added, "He has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt."
Joseph's promotion served a plan announced generations earlier, to Abram:
Here was the true key. It was not just the discovery to Pharaoh, the rescue of Joseph, and the provision made in the long years of plenty and the equally long famine. It was the carrying out of His plans, disclosed long before to Abram (in Genesis 15). By them His ancient people would grow up from the family of Jacob in a foreign land of bondage and affliction. The oppressing nation would be judged, and they themselves would come out with great wealth.
after
Writers here read Joseph's place as a picture of Christ exalted — and note what such authority is for:
If we are to be saved from the present power of evil, nothing can be of greater importance than to realise that Christ is in the place of supreme power, and to submit to Him… But if the Father has glorified the Son, it is so that the Son may glorify the Father… And if the Father is glorified, His people are blessed. So we read, "since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him." The glory the Father has given to the Son serves the Father's glory and the blessing of His people.
- Sent, not just sold. Their act was real guilt. God's hand was underneath it, working it into a plan for deliverance.
- Sent after conviction. Comfort comes only after the brothers condemn themselves. Grace answers a conscience already pierced.
- Sent to a place. Three spheres: adviser to the king, head of his household, ruler of the whole land. Joseph credits it all to God.
- Sent for others. Joseph is both saviour and lord. His rank counts for the lives it keeps alive.
- Sent ahead of a bigger story. One famine served the promise made to Abram. Joseph's rise pictures Christ's, and Christ uses His supreme power to bless His people.
Haste and go up to my father, and say to him, Thus says thy son Joseph God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, tarry not.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. Now he sends them home with a message that names his new rank, invites his father down, and warns them not to delay.
Joseph's pardon does not leave his brothers idle. He gives them a job.
Joseph not only freely and fully forgives his brothers; he commissions them as well. And we, if reconciled to God, have been commissioned. We have a mission towards this famine-stricken world. We are to make Christ known to men. We are to testify as to His exaltation and glory, just as the burden of the message of the sons of Israel was the lordship of Joseph over all the land.
The order matters. Joseph drew them close before he sent them out.
The love of Joseph has brought his brothers into sweet communion with himself. We read, "And he kissed all his brothers… and after that his brothers talked with him" (v. 15). Now we are to learn that the intimacies of love prepare for the service of love. Those whom Joseph has won for himself he will enlist in his service. His brothers shall become his witnesses.
"Go up to my father" names one hearer: the man they had deceived about Joseph.
They had badly deceived their father. Before him they had denied all knowledge of Joseph. Now he is the very one before whom they must bear witness of Joseph. Nor is it otherwise with Christ and His disciples. The woman of Sychar goes back to the men of the city to bear a bright witness for Christ before those who well knew the manner of her life. In the very place of her sin she is to bear witness to the One who has set her free from sin (John 4:28-29). Peter, too, bears witness to Christ before those in whose presence he had once so shamefully denied Christ.
The brothers carry words that are not their own. The opening line says whose they are.
Fourth, Joseph sends his brothers back with a very definite message. They must deliver it with all the authority of Joseph's word, introduced with a "Thus says your son Joseph" (v. 9). We do well to remember that the power behind the Gospel message is the authority with which it is proclaimed. It goes forth with a "Thus says the Lord."
Joseph names God as the one who gave him his place, and that place is the message itself.
Fifth, the great theme of the message was Joseph and his glory. Tell my father, Joseph can say, that "God has made me lord of all Egypt" (v. 9). And he adds, "You must tell my father of all my honour in Egypt, and of all that you have seen" (v. 13). This is still the message that alone will meet the world's famine. Peter preached it with no uncertain sound to the Jews. On the day of Pentecost he said, "Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified." And again before the Gentiles he can say that Christ "is Lord of all" (Acts 2:36; Acts 10:36).
The invitation is personal. Joseph does not just hand out blessing; he draws people to himself.
Sixth, the message that Joseph sends to Jacob is "Come down to me" (v. 9). If Joseph is lord of all with the riches of glory at his disposal for all, yet it is only those who "come" who receive the blessing. If all power is in his hands to bless, all grace is in his heart to attract to himself — the blesser. Joseph says in effect to his father, "I want you," for it is not only "Come," but "Come down to me."
The last words of the verse are a warning. Delay has a cost.
Finally, the message carries with it a word of warning. There is untold blessing for those who come, there is imminent danger for those who delay. So Joseph's word is "do not tarry… lest you and your household, and all that you have, come to poverty" (vv. 9, 11). How far greater the danger if we trifle with that far greater message that comes from the Lord in glory! Well may the apostle ask, "How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation?"
Commentators read the shape of Joseph's life as a picture of Christ's.
Joseph presents himself to his brothers as one sent by the father; they reject him, and, so far as lies in them, put him in the place of death; God takes him up from there, and raises him to a position of highest dignity: thus exalted, he gets a bride; and when his brothers, according to the flesh, are thoroughly broken and prostrate before him, he makes himself known to them, calms their hearts, and brings them into blessing; he then becomes the channel of blessing to them and to the whole world.
- Reconciled — Joseph forgives first, then sends. Those he wins for himself become his witnesses.
- Authorised — "Thus says your son Joseph" gives the messengers no opinion to defend, only a word to deliver.
- Exalted — the news is that God has made him lord of all Egypt; the theme is his glory.
- Invited — power to bless is in his hands, but only those who come receive it, and the call is "come down to me."
- Urgent — "do not tarry" is a warning as well as a welcome: blessing for those who come, poverty for those who delay.
And thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near to me, thou, and thy sons, and thy sons' sons, and thy sheep, and thy cattle, and all that thou hast.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. Now he sends word home to his father — not only "come," but where to come to, and who will be waiting there.
Goshen was a real district in Egypt, known by more than one name.
This was the part of Egypt where the Israelites lived. It is often called "the land of Goshen," and is also termed "the land of Rameses." Pharaoh told Joseph to place his father and his brothers in the best of the land. Most think Goshen lay east of the ancient Delta of the Nile.
Another writer places it more exactly, and reads the settlement as a picture of Israel's future under Christ.
Joseph placed his father and his brothers in the best of the land. That was Rameses, in the land of Goshen, in the north, on the east side of the Nile River. This pictures the Lord Jesus restoring Israel to great blessing, in submission to His authority. We are also told that he nourished them with food. How wonderful it will be for Israel in the millennium to have a settled home and rich provision! Of course the history here is only a picture, for Israel soon after fell into bitter slavery to the Egyptians.
Two things stand out here: when Joseph made this promise, and why he chose that district.
We may notice the faith and wisdom of Joseph who had already in Gen. 45:10 sent the message about Goshen, before he had said a word to Pharaoh. It was the outlying part of Egypt. There they could best keep their old work. There, too, the idol worship and moral corruption of that land reached them least.
Settling them in one district did more than keep the family fed.
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God, which was to make a nation of them, free from any mixing of foreign blood. They would live under Egyptian rule. Even so, from the start a dividing line separated them from the natives of Egypt. Pharaoh was most kind in his attitude. He welcomed them. He gave them the best of the land in Goshen, and offered them important posts as rulers of his cattle. Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was extraordinary. Only the moving of God's hand behind the scenes explains it.
Each part of Joseph's message meets a different need.
If Jacob will only come, the days of his wandering will be past, for Joseph says, "You shall dwell in the land of Goshen." Distance and estrangement will be no more, for "you shall be near me." Care and want will be gone, for "there I will provide for you." Still the Lord of glory can say, "Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." The soul that comes to Him finds the days of wandering feet are over. The loneliness of the desolate heart ends. And Christ meets the famine of the distant land. In the company of Christ there is rest for the conscience, satisfaction for the heart, and food for the soul.
The brothers carried that offer to others. Another writer turns it on his reader.
And see what they could put before the people Joseph sent them to! The land of Goshen — the garden spot of Egypt — and near to Joseph! And sinner, we are here to tell you this. In the gospel there is not only full forgiveness for you. There is also a special place of nearness to Christ, and plenty of blessing for your starving soul. For the Christian, the answer to Goshen and nearness to Joseph is to be blessed "in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places."
Joseph does not invite his father alone. The list runs down three generations and out to the livestock.
Joseph sends his brothers not only to the father, but to the father's children and the children's children. Indeed, says Joseph, tell him the good news is for "all that you have." And the message is still, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household."
- Come. The message is an invitation with an address. Joseph does not just save Jacob from famine; he tells him where to go and who will be there.
- Near. The heart of the offer is not the land but the person: distance and estrangement end, and want ends with them.
- Best. Goshen was the choice ground of Egypt. It lay far enough out for the family to keep their own work, clear of Egypt's corruptions.
- Apart. The dividing line from the Egyptians was no accident. It let one family grow into a nation.
- All. Children, grandchildren, flocks, herds — the invitation is as wide as the whole household. The gospel call is just as wide today.
And there will I maintain thee; for yet there are five years of famine; in order that thou be not impoverished, thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. Now he sends them home with a message for their father: come down, settle in Goshen, and let Joseph feed the family through the famine still to come. A reunion becomes a rescue plan. Why would a man with every reason to punish his brothers promise to keep them alive instead?
What Joseph promises is the opposite of what his brothers earned. One writer looks past Joseph to someone greater:
Joseph also promises to provide for them during the five years of famine still to come. So Joseph returns great good to his brothers for the evil that they had shown him. The goodness of the Lord Jesus is greater still. He has been treated far more shamefully than Joseph was, yet He will bless Israel — His brothers by natural descent — in overflowing grace in the coming age!
He had the power to do the opposite, and reason enough:
His brothers had thrown him into the pit, the Gentiles had flung him into prison. The world is desperate and his brothers are in need. Will Joseph seize that moment and use his power to take revenge? Nature might act like that, but grace will take another way. Joseph will use his position of supreme power to bless everyone. But while he shows grace, he will still uphold righteousness. Need will force a cry from the Gentiles, and they must submit to Joseph before they receive the blessing. Repentance must come before blessing for his brothers too.
Joseph does not send food to Canaan. He sends for the people. Everything he offers waits at the end of a journey they must make.
Joseph is lord of all, with the riches of glory at his disposal for everyone. Even so, only those who "come" get the blessing. If all power is in his hands to bless, all grace is in his heart to draw people to himself — the blesser. Joseph says in effect to his father, "I want you," for it is not only "Come," but "Come down to me."
With verse 10, the promise answers three problems in Jacob's life at once.
If Jacob will only come, the days of his wandering will be over, for Joseph says, "You shall dwell in the land of Goshen." Distance and estrangement will be no more, for "you shall be near me." Care and want will be driven away, for "there I will provide for you." Still the Lord of glory can say, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." The soul that comes to Him finds an end to the days of wandering feet, an end to the loneliness of the desolate heart, and an end to the famine of the distant land. In the company of Christ there is rest for the conscience, satisfaction for the heart, and food for the soul.
The place named was not chosen at random:
Notice the faith and wisdom of Joseph. In Genesis 45:10 he had already sent the message about Goshen, before he had said a word to Pharaoh. Goshen was the outlying part of Egypt. There they could best keep their old occupation, and there they were least exposed to the idol worship and moral corruption of that land.
The verse ends with a danger: poverty for the whole household. Joseph pairs it with "do not tarry" in verse 9:
Finally, the message carries a word of warning. There is untold blessing for those who come; there is immediate danger for those who delay. So Joseph's word is "Do not tarry … so that you and your household, and all that you have, do not come to poverty." The danger is far greater if we treat lightly that far greater message that comes from the Lord in glory! Well may the apostle ask, "How shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation?"
Commentators see a preview here of something far larger:
This leads the soul on to that glorious time when the Son of Man will take the government into His own hand, by divine appointment, and rule over the whole redeemed creation… The house of Israel will be fully restored. His gracious hand will nourish and sustain them, and all the earth will know the deep blessedness of being under His rule.
- Cause. Joseph's power could have been used for revenge; grace turned it into supply — he "returns great good to his brothers for the evil that they had shown him."
- Call. The blessing is real for everyone, but only those who come receive it: "it is not only 'Come,' but 'Come down to me.'"
- Care. One promise ends three troubles at once — a settled home, nearness to Joseph, and food for five more famine years.
- Caution. The same message warns: delay, and the whole household comes to poverty.
- Crown. The scene points ahead. A rejected One will reign, and His hand will nourish a restored Israel.
And behold, your eyes see, and the eyes of my brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth which speaks to you.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is, and now he points to the plainest evidence available: their own eyes and his own voice. The man they sold stands in front of them, speaking their own language.
On earlier visits, the brothers spoke to a foreign official through a translator. Joseph planned it that way.
When the brothers came, they came before the governor himself, not a lesser official. Of course they had no idea that they were bowing down to their brother Joseph, though Joseph recognised them. He spoke roughly to them and asked where they came from. Genesis 42:23 tells us he spoke to them through an interpreter. He knew their language perfectly well, but he would not give them the least hint that he might be known to them.
Now the disguise is over. The voice they hear is his own.
Joseph does not argue them out of their guilt. He gives them something else to look at.
With wonderful skill and infinite love, Joseph makes himself known to his brothers. He drives away their fears. He delivers them from being taken up with themselves. He relieves their anxiety by filling their sight with himself and his glories, and by occupying their thoughts with his gracious words. "Look," says Joseph, "your eyes see … that it is my mouth that speaks to you." Fear driven off, grief eased, cares banished, love can flow without hindrance.
The verse singles out one brother by name. Writers read Joseph and Benjamin together as two halves of one picture.
Joseph was the long-desired son of his mother Rachel. He took his name from her (Genesis 30:23-24) — Joseph, meaning "adding" — and the name pointed to another son, the son of his father's right hand. For Benjamin figures in that day of earthly power and glory. Joseph is the vessel of divine wisdom in humiliation. His brothers despised him and made him suffer, and sold him to Gentiles who punished him still more. Yet, unknown to Israel, he was raised to the right hand of power, for unmeasured blessing to both Israel and the Gentiles, and married to a Gentile wife.
Real repentance is necessary. By itself, it gives no peace.
Only one discovery will roll away the burden of guilt: the One against whom we have sinned knows it all, and has fully forgiven it all. The knowledge of our hearts, however necessary, will bring no rest to the soul. We may mourn over the past and wear ourselves out over our sins. But no discovery of evil in our hearts will bring comfort to the soul. No repentance, however real, and no sorrow for sin, however sincere, will bring it either. For rest and peace Jesus must make Himself known. Then we discover with great delight that His heart is full of grace for a man who is full of sin. With full knowledge of all our sins, there is nothing but love in His heart towards us. Then we can rest — but we rest in what He is, not in anything we find in ourselves.
Joseph's words are not the end of the scene. Weeping comes next, and then the brothers speak back.
And what could be more touching than his closing words? "… And tell my father all my glory in Egypt, and all you have seen; and hurry, and bring my father here quickly." Not content with this, "he fell on his brother Benjamin's neck and wept. Benjamin wept on his neck. He kissed all his brothers and wept on them. After that his brothers talked with him." Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks — not only he with them, but they with him.
This moment points ahead. Writers read it as a picture of what is still to come for Israel, the nation descended from these brothers.
Joseph no longer spoke to them through an interpreter. He no longer hid himself as with a veil from his repentant brothers. "Your eyes see," he said, "that it is my mouth that speaks to you." And so Israel's eyes will see the King in His beauty, and the veil will be taken away. Jehovah Jesus will return to them with a surer and readier love than the love with which Joseph fell on his brothers' necks and kissed them.
- Seeing. Joseph's proof is first-hand — their own eyes on the brother they sold.
- Hearing. The interpreter used earlier had kept him hidden; now his own mouth speaks to them, and the disguise is over.
- Resting. Sorrow over sin never settles a conscience by itself. Rest comes when the One we sinned against makes Himself known as forgiving.
- Talking. The sight of him and his glory drives fear out, and the brothers end up talking freely with him.
- Waiting. The brothers' eyes saw their lost brother. Writers take it as a picture of the day Israel sees their King, with the veil gone.
And tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen, and haste and bring down my father hither.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. These are the men who sold him. Now he sends them home with an errand, and its subject is not their crime but his glory.
The message rests on one fact about Joseph. Where the ESV reads "all my honor in Egypt," older translations read "all my glory," and the writers quoted here work from that word.
The great theme of the message was Joseph and his glory. Tell my father, Joseph can say, that "God has made me lord of all Egypt" (v. 9). And he adds, "You shall tell my father of all my glory, and of all that you have seen" (v. 13). This is still the message that alone will meet the world's famine. Peter preached it clearly to the Jews on the day of Pentecost. He said, "Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified." And again before the Gentiles he can say that Christ "is Lord of all" (Acts 2:36; Acts 10:36). It is still our privilege to declare the glories of the One who is Lord of all. There are His personal glories as the eternal Son, His moral glories as the One who is altogether lovely, and His official glories as King of kings and Lord of lords.
The same men who wronged Joseph are the ones he sends. One writer applies that to Christians in a starving world.
Joseph not only freely and fully forgives his brothers; he commissions them as well… And we, if reconciled to God, have been commissioned. We have a mission towards this famine-stricken world. We are to make Christ known to men. We are to testify to His exaltation and glory. The burden of the message of the sons of Israel was the same: the lordship of Joseph over all the land… Joseph sent the sons of Jacob back to the country they had come from, to persuade others to "go to Joseph." And this is our chief business in this world, to speak of the fame of Christ, and to persuade starving sinners to come to Him.
Jacob had seen none of this glory himself. One writer compares him to the queen who travelled to see King Solomon and found the reports had fallen short.
Joseph said, "Tell my father of all my glory in Egypt." How happy our hearts are to hear all the glory of the Lord Jesus!… Jacob had never seen, nor understood, all that glory, just as we know some of the glory in heaven, but cannot understand all. The Queen of Sheba said to Solomon, "I did not believe the reports until I came and my own eyes had seen it. And behold, the half was not told me." (1 Kings 10:7)
Why speak of glory, when the practical point was "come down"? One writer sees a reason: Jacob was old, and a slow man needs a motive.
A very tender and touching note runs through the message that Joseph sent by his brothers to his father. After the long years of separation he was to be near to his beloved son, and nourished by him. Tenderness and urgency marked his message. He realized that in old age his father might be slow to move, so he gave this incentive: "You shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt."
Joseph trusted this report to weak men. One writer contrasts who carries the message now.
He committed such a task as that to his remorseful brothers — narrow-minded to the last, as their later history proved. None other than a Divine Person — the Holy Spirit — is commissioned to tell us of the glories of Jesus, our risen Lord. By the Spirit's power we can see the face of Jesus, can gaze upon the glory of the Lord. The people of Israel could not look at the reflected glory in the face of Moses, the great lawgiver. We are privileged and empowered to see the face of Him to whom the glory belongs. It is not a reflected glory, but the whole glory of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ.
Joseph's errand runs to a father. One writer hears worship in that.
The restored soul is led into communion with the Lord and is enabled to worship, to tell the Father of all the glories of the Son, the true Joseph.
- Glory first. The errand is about Joseph's exaltation, not the brothers' experience. That message "alone will meet the world's famine."
- Glory commissions. Forgiveness does not stop at relief. Joseph sends the forgiven men back with a mission to a starving world.
- Glory urges. Joseph says "Hurry," and he gives the report of his glory as an incentive to a father slow to move.
- Glory empowers. The brothers carried the report in their own weakness. The Holy Spirit now tells us of the glories of the risen Lord, and we see the whole glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
- Glory returns. The report travels to a father — the restored soul tells the Father of all the glories of the Son.
And he fell on his brother Benjamin's neck, and wept; and Benjamin wept on his neck.
Here the ruler of Egypt stops speaking and weeps on the neck of the one brother who had no part in selling him. Why Benjamin first, why tears instead of words, and what this embrace settled in eleven guilty men — these are the questions commentators press.
Joseph has every right to a reckoning. Instead he gives them affection with nothing held back. One writer explains why such a moment calls for nothing else.
Now a time of reconciliation is, in this, like the hour of parting. The heart claims it for itself. Tenderness alone suits it; faithfulness would be an intruder. And so we find it with Joseph here. He wept aloud, so that the house of Pharaoh heard it. He wept on the neck of all his brothers and kissed them, fell on his brother Benjamin's neck and wept, and kissed him. And if he spoke while his tears flowed, it was only to encourage their hearts. He gave them pledges and reasons to be in full confidence and at ease before him.
Joseph singles out Benjamin. The reason lies in who Benjamin was, and in what he had no part in.
He wept again when he saw Benjamin. This was the son of his own mother, her only child besides himself, and her death had come with his birth. Of all his father's children, who were standing there in front of him, he was the only one with no guilt in Joseph's blood.
That same detail shapes how another writer reads Benjamin's tears.
In Genesis 45 we do not read much about the tears of Joseph's brothers. "Benjamin wept on his neck," we read in verse 14, but that is all. In fact, Benjamin had the least reason of all of them to weep, since he took almost no part in their great sin. No, the great point is not the repentance of the brothers, but the generous love of Joseph.
In verse 15 the embrace widens to every brother, including those who sold him. In that culture the kiss carried a meaning they could not miss.
The kiss, in the East, is a token of forgiveness; and when these sons of Jacob felt the touch of Joseph's kiss on their cheeks, they knew, each one in his heart, that they were forgiven. And the result is communion. "After that his brothers talked with him." How beautiful!
Fear stands between these men and Joseph. His tears and his kiss remove it.
With fear dispelled, grief soothed and cares banished, love can flow without hindrance — "He kissed all his brothers"; "and after that his brothers talked with him" (v. 15). Their eyes have seen his glories. His words of grace have charmed their ears. His love has warmed their hearts, and in the warmth of that love they are free to talk with him. No shadow remains to hinder the communion of love between Joseph and his brothers. Perfect love casts out fear.
Another writer hears something homely in that conversation — men who had been strangers in a foreign court speaking again as family.
His love flowed out on them with an irresistible force, sweeping away all their fears, until at last we are told, in the grand simplicity of Bible language, "After that his brothers talked with him." They were at rest in his presence, their mouths were opened, and they talked to him in the family tongue — the language of the homeland and the father's house.
One writer reads this scene as a picture of a future day when Israel meets the Christ they rejected.
"Then Joseph could not control himself … and he wept aloud … and he fell upon his brother Benjamin's neck and wept … and he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them." Here we have the full and unhindered expression of Joseph's love... So it will be in the coming time. God's first dealings with the children of Israel will produce some measure of conviction in their hearts. But it is when, according to Zechariah 12:10, "they shall look upon Me whom they have pierced" that "they shall mourn... as one mourns for his only son."
The same writer traces how the brothers came to know him at all.
The brothers did not discover him by any insight or cleverness of their own. It came wholly from Joseph revealing himself... And his revelation was the fruit of his love for them: love so real that he could not hold back any longer, and it moved him to tears.
- Tenderness first. A moment of reconciliation belongs to the heart alone. Tenderness suits it; faithfulness would be an intruder, so Joseph brings tears instead of reproach.
- Love reveals. The discovery came from Joseph's side, not from any insight of theirs. His love was so real he could not hold it back.
- Tears reach the innocent. Joseph embraces Benjamin first, the one brother with no part in the crime. Benjamin weeps too, yet the weight of the scene is Joseph's generous love, not the brothers' grief.
- The kiss reaches the guilty. The kiss went to every brother as the known sign of forgiveness, and each man felt it on his own cheek.
- Then conversation. With fear cast out, nothing hinders love, and they talk with him. That is the order: tenderness, revelation, tears, forgiveness, communion.
And he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them; and after that his brethren talked with him.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. The men who sold him into slavery now stand in front of the ruler of Egypt. What he does next is not a speech but an embrace — and the silence breaks.
In that part of the world a kiss carried a settled meaning.
In the East, a kiss is a sign of forgiveness. When these sons of Jacob felt Joseph's kiss on their cheeks, each one knew in his heart that he was forgiven. And the result is communion. "After that his brothers talked with him." How beautiful! And do you, forgiven soul, talk much with Jesus?
One writer sees two things in it: love that will not keep its distance, and the word "all."
His love cannot endure any distance; He wants His loved ones near to Him. The story of Joseph and his brothers illustrates it. He said to his brothers, "Come near to me." In the same way the Lord stretches out His hands to us as His brothers. He says, "Come near to Me." When they came near, Joseph kissed all his brothers and wept over them. He had no favourites. He treated them all alike.
Nothing in the brothers uncovered who Joseph was.
The brothers did not work out who he was by any insight or cleverness of their own. They knew him only because Joseph revealed himself to them. At His second coming Christ will appear in His glory. Then Israel will recognize Him and cry, "My God, we know you" (Hosea 8:2). And Joseph revealed himself out of love for them. That love was so real that he could not hold back any longer, and it moved him to tears.
One writer lists what had to go before they could speak.
Fear is gone, grief is eased, cares are banished. Now love can flow without hindrance — "He kissed all his brothers"; "and after that his brothers talked with him" (v. 15). Their eyes have seen his glories. His gracious words have delighted their ears. His love has warmed their hearts. And in that warmth of love they are free to talk with him. No shadow remains to hinder the communion of love between Joseph and his brothers. Perfect love casts out fear. The story also tells us the way Christ takes with us: He teaches us the evil of our hearts, and then dispels all fear by making Himself known in the love of His heart.
They talked with him — not just about him. One writer builds on that difference, starting from a line in the Psalms. Older translations there read "talk"; the ESV reads "tell."
We read in the Psalms, "Let us talk of all His wondrous works." And that is indeed a privilege, a privilege within the reach of all who know Him. Notice that it does not say, "Let us preach." If it did, we might feel the call was beyond us. But it says let us talk — talk about Him, as a child talks of his father, saying to his playmates, "I wish you knew my father, he is the best in all the world." Yet here it is not talking about Him, but talking with Him. He appreciates our talk about Him; but if we only talk about Him and neglect to talk with Him, we rob Him of what His love prizes so highly.
Closeness is not the end of the story. One writer sees the next step already in view.
Joseph's love has brought his brothers into sweet communion with himself. Now we are to learn that the intimacies of love prepare for the service of love. Those whom Joseph has won for himself he will enlist in his service. His brothers shall become his witnesses.
Writers here read the chapter on two levels at once, and one of them says so directly.
How intensely interesting it becomes to the heart when seen to be a prophetic picture of the repentance of the future Jewish remnant and their once despised and rejected Messiah. This would be the primary application of the narrative. But, I believe, a secondary application may be made of it. It is not merely typical; it is illustrative as well.
One writer reads the scene as a picture of a day still ahead for Israel.
after
Here we have the full and unhindered expression of Joseph's love. In response, the repentance of his brothers reached its proper depth. So it will be in the coming time. God's earlier dealings with the children of Israel will produce a certain measure of conviction in their hearts. But the mourning comes when, according to Zechariah 12:10, "they look on me, on him whom they have pierced." Then "they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child."
after
- Kiss — the kiss was the recognised sign of forgiveness; feeling it on their cheeks, each brother knew his own guilt was cleared.
- All — every brother got the same kiss; Joseph had no favourites and treated them all alike.
- Tears — they never recognised him by their own insight; the truth came out because his love could not stay hidden any longer.
- Talk — fear removed, they speak at last; and the writers press the difference between talking about the Lord and talking with Him.
- Task — the closeness comes first, the commission second: those he has won for himself, he then sends out as his witnesses.
And the report was heard in Pharaoh's house, saying, Joseph's brethren are come. And it was good in the eyes of Pharaoh, and in the eyes of his bondmen.
News of the family reunion does not stay in Joseph's private room. It travels through the palace to the king himself. Why should the ruler of Egypt care that a foreign official's brothers have arrived — and be glad about it?
Until now, Joseph had dealt with his brothers in private. That changes here.
There had been a good deal of secrecy in all these dealings between Joseph and his brothers. Now all secrecy was gone. Pharaoh and all his court now knew what had happened, and it pleased them. The last verse of the next chapter tells us that "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians." That might have surprised us here, if we did not know, as we said before, that at this period the ruling powers in Egypt were not true Egyptians. They were a foreign race, closely linked with the wandering shepherd people that Jacob and his sons belonged to.
The gladness is not Joseph's alone. It spreads from him to his brothers, to the king, and to the king's servants. One writer reads the whole scene alongside Luke 15.
Joseph's brothers are now reconciled. What follows? The report reaches Pharaoh's house, and it pleases Pharaoh and his servants. This is the Old Testament version of Luke 15. Sinners are received and reconciled; the lost is found; it is, as it were, "life from the dead" with souls. "And there is joy in the presence of God." God and the angels, like Pharaoh and his servants, rejoice when sinners are brought to repentance. There is joy all around. Joseph rejoices; his brothers rejoice; Pharaoh rejoices; his servants rejoice.
Another writer looks ahead from this scene to a greater day of joy.
When Joseph's brothers came, it pleased Pharaoh and his servants. What must the joy of God be in the new risen creation! There is joy in the presence of God over one sinner who repents. But that bright resurrection morning is coming, that morning without a cloud — so near. The whole redeemed Church will rise to meet the Lord. Then what a scene of unmixed delight!
The brothers have done nothing for Egypt. Nothing recommends them except a relationship.
The reconciliation waited only for the repentance. Now it is complete, and everything is ready to load the brothers with unlimited blessing. Pharaoh's goodwill is to be fully toward them, as well as Joseph's. They were Joseph's brothers; that was enough for Pharaoh. So Pharaoh will have their aged father brought down and settled, with his households and his flock, in the richest and choicest portion of the land.
Commentators explain the king's pleasure in different ways. Another writer sees plain gratitude at work.
News of the coming of Joseph's brothers reaches Pharaoh, and he is pleased to hear it (v. 16). So he confirms what Joseph had said. The brothers are to return to Canaan and bring their father and their households back to Egypt, where Pharaoh will give them the best of the land (v. 17-18). Of course Pharaoh knew he owed Joseph a great deal, and he was glad to show his appreciation in this way.
The king's gladness turns at once into an invitation and wagons. Its wording has a familiar ring.
So Pharaoh arranged for enough animals and wagons to carry them all. He also sent the message and invitation recorded in verses 17 and 18. Here again we find words that strongly remind us of New Testament language. We quote them: "Come to me, and I will give you…" What does that remind you of? We will all answer that it reminds us of Matthew 11:28: "Come to me… and I will give you rest."
From the outside, this is just court news. In fact it is the doorway through which Jacob's family enters Egypt.
Man's wit could not have devised circumstances so favourable for Jacob and his sons to enter Egypt. Nothing could be simpler than the plain facts of the case. Those facts gave Joseph the administration of the land and attached both the king and his subjects to him.
- Reconciled — the private forgiveness of the earlier verses opens the door to this public welcome. The blessing "waited only for the repentance."
- Reported — what Joseph settled in secret now reaches the palace; nothing about the reunion stays hidden.
- Received — the brothers bring no merit of their own. "They were Joseph's brothers; that was enough for Pharaoh."
- Rejoiced over — the joy widens from Joseph to his brothers to the king and his servants. It pictures heaven's gladness over sinners who repent.
- Rewarded — the welcome comes with an invitation: "Come to me, and I will give you." The Lord's own call to the weary echoes it.
And Pharaoh said to Joseph, Say to thy brethren, Do this load your beasts and depart, go into the land of Canaan,
Pharaoh hears that Joseph's brothers have come, and the news delights him. So he adds his own royal word to Joseph's: load up, go back to Canaan, and bring the whole family down.
Joseph had already told his brothers to bring Jacob down. One writer explains why the king was so glad to add his own weight to it.
Pharaoh is pleased to hear that Joseph's brothers have come (v. 16), so he confirms what Joseph had said. Of course Pharaoh knew he owed Joseph a great deal, and he was glad to show his appreciation in this way.
Nothing in these men recommended them to Egypt's king. Their whole standing with Pharaoh rested on their relationship to the man he valued.
The reconciliation had waited only for their repentance. Now that it was complete, everything was ready to load the brothers with blessing without limit. Pharaoh's goodwill is to be toward them in full, as well as Joseph's. They were Joseph's brothers; that was enough for Pharaoh.
The same welcome now comes from two men at once. One writer sees a picture in that.
Here Joseph is a picture of the Lord Jesus, and Pharaoh of God the Father. God the Father's heart is the same as the heart of our Lord Jesus. Pharaoh said, "Come to me!", just as Joseph said, "Come to me!" And so the Father and the Son both call us to "Come!"
Joseph settles every detail of this journey: the loading, the route, the destination. The brothers add nothing to the plan.
So it was with Joseph's brothers. All their directions about service came from Joseph. Not one of them suggested service. And when Joseph speaks of service, they do not set one another to serve. They do not decide how to serve, whom to go to, where to go, or what to say. They receive the commission to serve, and every detail of it, from the lips of Joseph.
Of all places, they must go back to Canaan. That is the ground where they wronged Joseph, and the ground where they must now speak for him.
Second, they are not only told how to go; they are also told where to go. The word is "Go back to the land of Canaan" (v. 17). They were to be witnesses for Joseph in the very land where Joseph had received only evil for good, and hatred for his love, in the days of his humiliation. There he had been stripped of his honours, thrown into a pit, and sold for twenty pieces of silver. So it was in that last parting scene between the risen Lord and His glad disciples. They receive a commission to preach to all nations, and they are also told where to begin. The Lord's word is "beginning from Jerusalem" (Luke 24:47). The witness was to begin in the blackest spot on earth, among the worst of sinners, in the place where the Lord had been sold for thirty pieces of silver, stripped of His robe, and nailed to a cross.
The command to load the animals runs straight into a promise. One writer hears a familiar ring in it.
Here again we find words that strongly remind us of New Testament language. Here they are: "Come to me; and I will give you…" What does that remind you of? We shall all answer that it reminds us of Matthew 11:28, "Come to Me… and I will give you rest." Joseph's word was to be, "I will give you the good of the land of Egypt, and you shall eat the fat of the land." That "good" would mean rest for them: rest from their fear of famine, and from the wearying search for food through the famine years. Coming to Joseph, they would find rest indeed.
Where older translations read "the good of the land," the ESV has "the best of the land of Egypt." The offer is generous enough to make the journey worth any trouble, and Pharaoh sends transport too.
What an inducement! "The good of the land of Egypt" and "the fat of the land." This is what God has to offer souls that come to Him… No government ever offered such terms to encourage settlers. Transport is provided too. "Wagons" were sent to carry the weak and helpless. And what answers to the wagons in this picture is the Holy Spirit, sent by the Father to bring helpless sinners to Christ.
Given an offer on this scale, there was nothing left to negotiate.
They were now given gifts beyond anything they had imagined. Faced with that, only one thing suited them: the obedience of faith. We read, "The sons of Israel did so." They did exactly what they were told.
- Cause — Pharaoh's kindness reaches the brothers because of Joseph, not because of them. He "owed Joseph a great deal."
- Credential — "They were Joseph's brothers; that was enough for Pharaoh." The relationship, not the record, opens the door.
- Call — "Come to me; and I will give you…" — the same call the Father and the Son both make, with wagons for the weak, a picture of the Spirit bringing helpless sinners to Christ.
- Commission — every instruction comes from Joseph's lips; not one of the brothers suggested where to go or what to say.
- Course — Joseph sends them back to Canaan, the very place they wronged him, just as the risen Lord began His witness at Jerusalem. Their part was to obey.
and take your father and your households, and come to me; and I will give you the good of the land of Egypt, and ye shall eat the fat of the land.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is, and the news travels through the palace until Pharaoh himself joins in. The invitation comes not from Joseph alone but from the throne of Egypt, and it offers the family not bare rations but the best of the country.
The brothers had no claim of their own on Egypt.
The reconciliation waited only for their repentance. Now it was complete, and everything was ready to load the brothers with blessing without limit. Pharaoh's goodwill is to be fully toward them, as well as Joseph's. They were Joseph's brothers; that was enough for Pharaoh. And Pharaoh will have their aged father brought down. He will settle him, with his households and his flocks, in the richest and choicest part of the land.
The king and the governor speak with one voice here:
Joseph in his glory and in such a high position wanted his father and his brothers to be with him... Here Joseph is a picture of the Lord Jesus, and Pharaoh of God the Father. God the Father's heart is the same as the heart of our Lord Jesus. Pharaoh said, "Come to me!" just as Joseph said, "Come to me!" And so the Father and the Son both call us to "Come!"
The wording of the invitation has struck commentators as familiar: a call to come, then a promise to give. The writers below quote an older translation, which reads "the good of the land" where the ESV has "the best of the land."
Here again we find words which strongly remind us of New Testament language: "Come to me; and I will give you …" Surely that reminds us all of Matthew 11:28: "Come to me … and I will give you rest." Joseph's word was to be, "I will give you the good of the land of Egypt, and you shall eat the fat of the land." But that "good" would mean rest for them — rest from their fear of famine, and rest from the wearying search for food through the famine years. Coming to Joseph, they would find rest indeed.
Joseph now held complete power in Egypt, and the brothers who had wronged him stood in front of him.
But now that such power was in his hands, what use did he make of it? His word to his father, and brothers, and all their households was, "Come to me: and I will give you the good of the land of Egypt, and you shall eat the fat of the land" (Gen. 45:18). As exalted, he was the minister of their blessing.
Two phrases carry the weight of the offer: the best of the land, and the fat of the land. Neither one is about mere relief from hunger.
What an inducement! "The good of the land of Egypt" and "the fat of the land." This is what God has to offer souls that come to Him. No such terms were ever offered by any government to encourage settlers. Transportation is provided too. "Wagons" were sent to carry the weak and helpless. And what answers to the wagons in this picture is the Holy Spirit sent by the Father to bring helpless sinners to Christ.
The brothers had first come to Egypt with nothing but empty sacks, and that turned out to be the point.
They were told that they might leave all their own stuff behind them, for all the good of the land of Egypt was before them. And so it proved to be. Their empty sacks had come down to Egypt at first to be filled. They were still to prove that there was a heart and a hand there, both able and ready to give without measure. The emptier they came down, the fuller they would learn this.
One writer looks past the immediate rescue to what the story foreshadows.
Even if they did not surpass fable, they were true. They bear the clear stamp of God's ordering, because they picture in advance what the prophets pledge in Jehovah's name. A greater than Joseph, rejected by His brothers, was exalted to sit at God's right hand with richer supplies for a famished world. He is about to make Himself known "the second time" to His brothers, whose hearts are broken with deep repentance.
- Welcomed. The brothers were invited because they belonged to Joseph, and that connection alone was enough for the king.
- Come. The invitation is a call to a person before it is an offer of goods — the same two-part wording found on the lips of Jesus: come to Me, and I will give you.
- Give. The man with absolute power over Egypt spent it on the family that had wronged him; as exalted, he became the source of their blessing.
- The best. Not survival, but the best and the fat of the land — terms no government ever offered settlers, with transport supplied for the weak.
- Empty hands. They came down with empty sacks to be filled; the emptier they came, the more they learned how freely that hand gave. The whole scene rehearses a greater than Joseph, who makes Himself known to His brothers a second time.
And thou art commanded -- this do take waggons out of the land of Egypt for your little ones and for your wives, and take up your father, and come.
Pharaoh himself now speaks. His order turns Joseph's invitation into a royal command, and Egypt's own resources stand behind it. The brothers are not just told to come. Pharaoh sends wagons for the people least able to travel on their own.
This invitation is not Joseph's private arrangement. Egypt's ruler backs it, and one commentator explains why he was so willing.
Of course Pharaoh realized that he owed Joseph a great deal, and he was glad to show his appreciation in this way. More than that, he orders them to take wagons with them from Egypt to bring their wives and children and their father.
Such a welcome was far from normal. Egypt had its own gods, and long-held prejudices against outsiders who refused them.
Even in the world as it is now, how rare it is to find a king and his servants united by respect for a foreign governor, giving his foreign father and brothers a warm and wholehearted welcome! And Egypt had strong prejudices then, as everyone knows it had for ages afterwards. Egypt would be opposed most of all to people who confessed God — a God the Egyptians did not know — and who denied the gods of Egypt.
Pharaoh names who rides in them: "your little ones" and "your wives" — the very people who could never have walked from Canaan to Egypt. Notice where the transport comes from.
Joseph not only desires his brothers to be near him, but he also provides the means to bring them to himself. No exhausting march lay before Jacob in his weakness and old age. There was no long journey for the little ones and their mothers. No; they were carried every step of the journey in the wagons. In other words, the power that carried them to Joseph came from Joseph.
Commentators also read the wagons as a picture of something larger.
Transportation is provided too. "Wagons" were sent to carry the weak and helpless. In this picture the Holy Spirit matches the wagons. The Father sends Him to bring helpless sinners to Christ.
The same writer notes what finally moved Jacob when the news reached him.
It was the word and the wagons. And since we take the wagons as a figure of the Holy Spirit, the meaning is beyond question. Sinners are convinced not by the word of the gospel alone, but by the Word and the Spirit.
The welcome was genuine, and the wagons did what words alone could not.
Neither the king nor the people of Egypt could deny how warm a welcome the whole family of Israel received for Joseph's sake. The king suggested the wagons and left Joseph to supply them. They played their part in persuading the father to believe the report that Joseph was still alive — a report which at first made his heart fail. "Jews demand signs;" and there was the sign: the means of going down into Egypt, which his sons could not have provided.
Joseph sends his brothers home with news. But news needs a messenger who can carry it.
It is not enough to be entrusted with a message; the messenger must be fully equipped to deliver the message. The disciples whom the Lord commissioned to preach had to wait until power from on high clothed them. The power in which they serve comes from the Person who gave them their commission, and from the place of exaltation where that Person now is. They were given a new power for their journey. And the power that took them back to Canaan was the power in which they were to bring their father to Joseph.
- Commanded — the call is not Joseph's alone. Pharaoh puts the throne behind it. A land with every reason to resent this family welcomes it instead.
- Carried — the wagons come out of Egypt, from the place where Joseph is. The power that brings the family to him originates with him, not with them.
- Covered — the transport is named for little ones and wives, the weakest members. Nobody is left to manage the journey on their own strength.
- Convinced — Jacob believed when he saw the wagons. Commentators read it as word and Spirit together. The message came with evidence he could see.
- Commissioned — the brothers go home both entrusted with news and equipped to travel. The power that carried them back was the same power in which they brought their father to Joseph.
And let not your eye regret your stuff; for the good of all the land of Egypt shall be yours.
Pharaoh hears that Joseph's brothers have come, and he sends them home with wagons and one striking order: leave your belongings behind. He gives a reason: something better is already waiting for them.
The ESV says "goods"; older versions say "stuff." The word means the household property the brothers would have had to pack and haul.
As to their possessions, he tells them not to be concerned. He would give them everything they needed in Egypt (v. 20). Of course they would bring their flocks and herds. No doubt there would be many things they would not want to leave behind. But Pharaoh wanted them to know that he would supply whatever goods they needed.
One writer notes that the problem is not owning things but the regard we give them.
How much regard for "stuff" there is among God's people today! How much anxiety and unnecessary concern the heirs of glory show over owning or piling up a little of this world's goods! At best it is only "stuff." It is not wrong to own it; it is the regard for it that does the damage... Pharaoh adds weight to his words about their "stuff": "For the good of all the land of Egypt is yours." What an answer to anxiety!
One writer holds Pharaoh's offer up against a better promise.
Pharaoh said, "The good of all the land of Egypt is yours." But our Lord Jesus tells us the inheritance given to us is in heaven. It is incorruptible and undefiled and it does not fade (1 Peter 1:4). Dear believers, the good of all heaven is yours. Do not regard your stuff; you have better things. Your own things can only weigh you down; you cannot take them with you.
What a person owns is not neutral. It competes for the heart.
If the glories of our heavenly Joseph filled our souls, things here would not hold us back. Our hearts are where our treasure is. I suppose the translators used the plain old-fashioned English word "stuff" in the usual way. But I cannot help giving the word a touch of irony: "Also regard not your stuff." After all, it is only "stuff" that our hearts get taken up with down here. There is more room for the heart in a full purse than in an empty one. Whether it is money or land, family name or achievements, the word comes home to our souls with cutting force.
The brothers had an errand to carry out. Commentators differ over who speaks these words, and this writer reads them as Joseph's own. He notes a sharper rendering of the phrase and applies it to Christian service.
Further, Joseph can say, "Regard not your stuff," or according to a better translation, "Let not your eye regret your stuff" (v. 20). Some things belong to us by nature — human eloquence and human wisdom. There are also worldly means and methods that appeal to the natural man. But the apostle says, "my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power"... In the service of the Lord, what is merely natural is neither to be regarded nor regretted.
The same writer draws out what such a choice would have said about Joseph.
Had the brothers fallen back on their own "stuff" to support them in their service, they would have slighted Joseph's provision. Their action would have said, "Joseph's provision is not enough for Joseph's commission." Joseph, however, can say, "The good of the land of Egypt is yours," and in line with this he "gave them provision for the way" (vv. 20, 21). In carrying out their service for Joseph they were supported by the good of the land they came from, received from the hand of the one who sent them.
When Jacob's family moved, their belongings moved with them.
But they took their livestock also, and their goods which they had acquired in Canaan, and came into Egypt. Jacob and his sons had no thought of entering that land as mere dependants on its ruler. It made no difference that he wanted to show every honour to Joseph, or that he had promised them the good of all the land of Egypt. So they took their "stuff" along with them and came into Egypt.
- Provided — Pharaoh's word is not a demand to be poor. It is a promise: Egypt would supply everything they needed, so the packing was pointless.
- Promised — The reason given is the offer itself. "The best of all the land of Egypt is yours" is what answers anxiety over a little property.
- Preferred — What is ahead is incorruptible and unfading. Our own things can only weigh us down, and we cannot take them with us.
- Purged — The same rule governs service. Human eloquence and worldly methods are our "stuff." Leaning on them says His provision is not enough for His commission.
- Practised? — Jacob's family still brought their goods along. They would not arrive as mere dependants. Hearing this word and obeying it are two different things.
And the sons of Israel did so; and Joseph gave them waggons, according to the commandment of Pharaoh, and gave them provision for the way.
Joseph has just made himself known to his brothers, and now he sends them back to Canaan to fetch their father. Everything they carry on that road comes from Joseph's hand, which raises a question: who supplies the strength to reach the one who sent for you?
The brothers did not arrange their own transport. Joseph did.
Joseph not only desires his brothers to be near to him, but he provides the means to bring them to himself. No exhausting march lay before Jacob in his weakness and old age, no long, wearying journey for the little ones and their mothers. No — they were carried every step of the journey in the wagons. In other words, the power that carried them to Joseph came from Joseph.
Joseph gave the brothers a message to carry home. But a message alone would not move an old man and his household across the desert.
The message is full and clear, but it is not enough to be entrusted with a message; the messenger must be fully equipped to deliver the message. The disciples whom the Lord commissioned to preach had to wait until they were clothed with power from on high… Their power to serve comes from the Person who gives them their commission. It comes from the place of exaltation where that Person now is. Is this not foreshadowed in the story of Joseph?… They were provided with a new power to journey on their way. And the power that took them back to Canaan was the power in which they were to bring their father to Joseph.
The brothers had supplies of their own. Leaning on those would have insulted the one who was sending them.
Moreover, had the brothers fallen back on their own "stuff" to support them in their service, they would have slighted the provision of Joseph. Their action would have said, "Joseph's provision is not enough for Joseph's commission."… As they carried out their service for Joseph, the good of the land they came from sustained them. They received it from the hand of the one who sent them. It is no different in the service of the Lord in this day of His grace. He has given us full provision to carry out His service. So bringing human methods into this service insults His provision.
Joseph also sent food for the road — "provision for the way" in older translations. The same care follows God's people on their own road.
Pharaoh gave these travellers "provision for the way," we read. And what provision has been made for us! "All things" are ours. The hairs of our head are all numbered. We have an Advocate with the Father should we sin. We have a great High Priest to sympathise with us in our sorrows. The Comforter sustains us. We have everything we need, in fact, along our pilgrim way and for our service to the Lord.
Jacob's first reaction to the news was disbelief. The wagons were the king's idea, and Joseph supplied them.
The king suggested the wagons and left Joseph to supply them. Those very wagons helped to assure the father that he could believe the story that made his heart fail at first — that Joseph was still alive… The proof was there in the means of going down into Egypt, which his sons could not have provided.
The loaded wagons were also a sample of what waited at the end of the road.
But there were the wagons sent from Joseph with their full supplies. To him they were a foretaste and pledge of the good things waiting in Joseph's presence. That produced conviction and revived Jacob's heart. His nerve returned and he was ready for the journey.
This picture reaches past Egypt.
Transportation is provided too. "Wagons" were sent to carry the weak and helpless. And what answers to the wagons in this picture is the Holy Spirit sent by the Father to bring helpless sinners to Christ.
- Sent — Joseph invites his family and supplies the means to come. The power that carried them to Joseph came from Joseph.
- Equipped — A commission without equipment is not enough. The power for the errand comes from the One who gives the errand, and from where He now sits.
- Supplied — The food for the journey is everything we need along the pilgrim way and for our service to the Lord.
- Slighted — To fall back on your own "stuff" says His provision is not enough for His commission.
- Convinced — The wagons were a foretaste of Joseph's presence. Jacob's heart revived when he saw them, and he was ready to travel.
To each one of them all he gave changes of clothing; but to Benjamin he gave three hundred [pieces] of silver and five changes of clothing.
Joseph has just told his brothers who he is. Instead of punishing them, he sends them home loaded with gifts. All ten receive new clothes, and Benjamin receives far more. Two questions sit in the verse — why clothing at all, and why does the youngest get so much more?
Joseph gives far more than the road home required.
Joseph gave them wagons and provisions for their journey, even including changes of clothing. But to Benjamin he gave five changes of clothing, and added to this three hundred pieces of silver. One wonders if Benjamin might have had a little difficulty in knowing how to handle this! But Joseph's heart was abounding in grace.
Joseph sends the brothers home to tell of his glory. One writer notes that a messenger's life has to match his message.
Blessed as all this is, it is not enough for the service of the Lord. If the service is to be effective, the life of the servant must match the message he delivers. Joseph's dealing with his brothers shows this important truth clearly. He gave them provision for the way, and we also read, "To each and all of them he gave a change of clothes" (v. 22). They were not only to deliver a message about Joseph's glory. They themselves were to be witnesses of the change that the glory produced.
The brothers did not weave these garments. They wore what the ruler of Egypt handed them. One writer sees here a picture of the clothing God gives us in the risen Christ.
This is a sample of the clothing provided for us from the risen Joseph. It takes the whole of Adam's race to show how hideous and repulsive the character of the old man is. But the Lord Jesus Christ expressed fully in His own matchless person what man should be for God. He was the Second Man — the Lord from heaven.
A change of clothing appears elsewhere in Scripture too. There, God is the one who does the clothing.
That is the change of clothing. One moment you are a sinner in your sins before God. The next moment you are clothed with Christ before Him, as Christ is before His eyes. And notice, God does all that. He does not say to the sinner, take off your filthy garments and put on these. He says to those who stand by, "Take away the filthy garments from him." He does not say put on these new garments. He says, "I will clothe you with a change of clothing." God does all.
Benjamin receives far more than the other ten. Commentators look at his name for the reason he stands apart.
The youngest son of Jacob by his beloved wife Rachel. She died as he was born. She named him BEN-ONI, meaning 'son of my sorrow,' but his father named him BENJAMIN, 'son of the right hand.' Gen. 35:18, 24. He is a picture of Christ in two ways. As Benjamin, Christ is exalted at God's right hand. As Ben-oni, He is rejected, and so the occasion of Israel's suffering in the last days. Rachel stands for Israel (Micah 5).
Nothing here was earned, and nothing could be repaid. That leaves the brothers only one fitting response.
Joseph now gave them generosity beyond anything they had imagined. In the face of it, only one thing suited them: the obedience of faith. We read, "The sons of Israel did so." They did exactly as they were told. They received everything they needed, as verses 21-23 record. So they were sent off to their father with the instruction, "Do not quarrel on the way." There was quite rightly a little sting for their consciences in this. They had quarrelled badly over Joseph many years before. As forgiven men they were now to show an entirely different spirit.
- Given, not earned — the brothers earned none of it. They arrive with nothing to offer and leave loaded, because Joseph's heart was "abounding in grace."
- Given clothing — food alone would have carried them home. Joseph added clothing, so that the men who spoke of his glory also showed the change it had worked in them.
- Given from above — the garments came from the ruler's store, not their own. God clothes a person the same way: He takes off the filthy garments and puts on the new.
- Given most to Benjamin — the "son of the right hand" receives five changes of clothing and three hundred pieces of silver. His name points to Christ, exalted at God's right hand.
- Given, so obey — the gift was beyond anything they had imagined. Their only fitting answer was the obedience of faith: "The sons of Israel did so." Forgiven men, they were to travel home without quarrelling.
And to his father he sent this ten asses laden with the good things of Egypt, and ten she-asses laden with corn and bread, and food for his father by the way.
Joseph has just made himself known to the brothers who sold him, and now he loads them for the road home to Canaan. The load he sends his father is the largest of all, and it raises a question: what was he saying to the old man by it?
The family already had wagons for the move. Joseph added twenty donkey-loads for his father alone. One writer says that share was more than the wagons could hold.
Joseph's heart was overflowing with grace... Clearly he did not think the wagons were enough to carry all this food.
Jacob's sons came back with a report that staggered him: the son he had mourned was alive. His heart failed at the words. The freight that came with them did what the words alone could not.
The king suggested the wagons and left Joseph to supply them. They played their part in persuading the father to believe the story that at first made his heart fail — that Joseph was still alive. "The Jews ask for signs"; and here was the sign. His sons could never have provided the means of going down into Egypt. There was much more besides, which his loving and generous son gave for all of them, for Benjamin in particular, and for his father most of all.
The gifts were not only proof that Joseph lived. They were Egypt's best, reaching Canaan before the family had set out.
But there were the wagons Joseph sent, with their full supplies. They were to him a foretaste and pledge of the good things waiting in Joseph's presence. That produced conviction and revived Jacob's heart. His nerve returned and he was ready for the journey. The words of Joseph had been backed up by the firstfruits he sent.
The same writer draws the line forward to the believer, who has both a message and a gift that comes with it.
Today we have not only received the words of One far greater than Joseph, but we have received the firstfruits of His Spirit. Our spirits should indeed be revived and aglow as we travel to the place where Jesus our Lord is.
Half of what Joseph sent was plain travelling food — grain and bread for the days in between. The provision covered the distance, not only the destination. One writer sees the same care on the road that believers travel.
God our Father truly gives strength for the way to heaven. He sent the Holy Spirit to lead us safely to His house. ... Joseph sent gifts to his whole family, and food for the desert journey, right to the home he had prepared. The Lord Jesus gives gifts to His Church, and gives everything needed, right to the Father's house. Jacob was glad of those gifts; so are we.
Joseph sent his brothers on an errand. Their strength for it came from his stores, not from anything of their own. Another writer weighs what it would have meant to fall back on their own resources, and what that means for service today.
Had the brothers fallen back on their own "stuff" to support them in their service, they would have slighted Joseph's provision. Their action would have said, "Joseph's provision is not enough for Joseph's commission." ... In carrying out their service for Joseph they were sustained by the good of the land they had come from, received from the hand of the one who sent them. It is no different in the service of the Lord today. We have received full provision to carry out His service, so to bring in human methods is to slight His provision.
- Gift. Joseph's father received the largest share of all — the best things of Egypt, in a load the wagons could not hold.
- Proof. Words alone left Jacob's heart failing. The goods his sons could never have provided were the sign that convinced him.
- Foretaste. What arrived in Canaan was a genuine sample of Egypt's plenty — a pledge, backing up the message with firstfruits.
- Supply. Half the load was plain bread and grain for the road. Joseph covered the journey, not only the welcome.
- Home. Every gift pointed one way: toward the son who had prepared a home for them.
And he sent his brethren away, and they departed. And he said to them, Do not quarrel on the way.
Joseph's last word to his brothers, spoken as they leave Egypt loaded with his gifts, is not a blessing but a caution. These were forgiven men, carrying good news to their father. Yet Joseph still told them how to behave on the road, and commentators read his last words as a warning for God's people today.
Older Bibles read "fall not out by the way." One writer gives the plain meaning of the phrase, and a painful example of it.
Then Joseph, as he sends them away, gives them one last word of warning. "See that you do not fall out by the way," he says. And how we need this caution — brothers and sisters alike. Literally it is, "Do not quarrel on the way." We need to exercise a spirit of forbearance with one another. Otherwise we will never get on together. See how even such eminent servants of Christ as Barnabas and Paul fell out by the way. "And there arose a sharp disagreement, so that they separated from each other" (Acts 15:39). How sad, and how humiliating! May the Lord keep us! We have it in us. The hateful flesh is there, always ready to assert itself the moment the Spirit's restraint loosens.
The warning was not random. It was shaped by what Joseph knew about the men in front of him.
In sending them away, Joseph told his brothers not to quarrel on the way (v. 24). He knew their character, and the Lord Jesus too knows the natural character of Israel, which is all too sadly reflected in ourselves, even the church of God.
Joseph had just given his brothers more than they could have asked for. Against that background, his parting sentence carried a quiet edge.
They received bounty beyond all their thoughts. In the presence of it only one thing suited them — the obedience of faith. They did exactly as Joseph commanded. So he sent them off to their father with the instruction, "See that you do not fall out by the way." There was rightly a little sting for their consciences in this. They had fallen out badly over Joseph many years before. As forgiven men they were now to show an entirely different spirit.
Joseph sent these men out as messengers. His warning about quarrelling came last, and one writer finds the same pattern in the parting words of Jesus — and in what followed.
Finally, Joseph sends out his brothers with the warning word, "See that you do not fall out by the way" (v. 24). In His last words in the upper room, the Lord is equipping His disciples to be His witnesses. Three times He urges them to love one another (John 13:34; 15:12, 17). Sadly, we have fallen out by the way. The Galatians by their legality fell out by the way, for the apostle has to say, "You bite and devour one another" (Galatians 5:15). The Corinthians by their carnality fell out by the way. The apostle writes, "There is quarreling among you" (1 Corinthians 1:11) … Had love prevailed, there would have been no room for legality or carnality. Neither would have divided the servants of Christ or spoiled their service to the Lord.
Joseph had already given them wagons, food and clothing. So why did they need this warning at all?
The wagons had plenty of carrying capacity, and there was plenty of food and clothing. One would think there was no room left for quarrelling. Joseph's greatness and grace should have filled their conversation, since every turn of the wagon-wheels brought them nearer to their brother. And has this no voice for us? Is not the Holy Spirit given to each believer alike? Are the Scriptures not the common possession of all believers? Is not Christ in glory and His heavenly resources the undivided portion of all? To ask the questions is to answer them.
Behind the surface subject of a dispute, one writer points to a single recurring motive — and to the cure.
There is the ever-present danger of falling out by the way. Long ago the Lord could ask His disciples what they were discussing on the way. They were silent, because on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest (Mark 9:33-34). Look behind all the disputes that have ever taken place among the people of God. Whatever the subject of the dispute, the root cause will probably turn out to be the same: someone wanted to be great. Otherwise, whatever the difficulty, there would be no need to fall out. We shall be at peace among ourselves only as we count each other better than ourselves.
- Meaning — the words mean "do not quarrel on the way." They call for forbearance, and even Paul and Barnabas failed here.
- Motive — these men had once fallen out badly over Joseph, so his warning carried a sting for their conscience.
- Commission — this is Joseph's closing word to messengers heading out. Jesus too sent His disciples out with a repeated call to love one another.
- Supply — Joseph gave wagons, food and clothing to them all, so nothing was left to fight over on the road. In the same way the Spirit, the Scriptures and Christ in glory belong to every believer alike.
- Root — quarrels trace back to someone wanting to be great. Peace comes when each counts the other better than himself.
And they went up out of Egypt, and came into the land of Canaan to Jacob their father.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And they told him, saying, Joseph is still alive, and he is governor over all the land of Egypt. And his heart fainted, for he did not believe them.
Joseph's brothers come home to Canaan with two facts: their brother is alive, and he rules Egypt. Jacob does not rejoice. He goes numb, and the good news exposes his unbelief first of all.
The order of their words matters. One writer hears in it the pattern of the message the church carries about Christ.
True to their commission, they testify of Joseph. His name is the first word of their message. They testify that he is alive, and they tell of his exaltation too. And the gospel tells of Christ — "The gospel of God, concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord," we read in Romans 1. And His resurrection stands out in that good news. "Joseph is yet alive," the sons of Jacob say. "Christ lives," we proclaim. He who died has risen as victor from the tomb. And God the Father has set Him high above all rulers and powers, thrones and dominions.
These same men once told him something far worse. He swallowed it whole, without one question.
The exposure of his unbelief was the first result of hearing the good news. Twenty years before, these same men had brought a lying report to Jacob with evidences to support their lie. And without a question Jacob believed the lie. "Without doubt," he said, "Joseph is torn to pieces." Now his sons bring a true report of Joseph with evidences to support the truth, and at once Jacob doubts. His "heart fainted, for he did not believe them." Ever since Adam listened to the devil's lie it has been natural for fallen man to believe a lie. Only a work of grace enables men to believe the truth.
The numbness was not refusal. One writer reads it as shock: Jacob was getting a son back from the dead.
It was the Lord's doing — for so the fact was — but it was marvellous in Jacob's eyes. He "did not believe it for joy, and wondered," because this was receiving Joseph alive from the dead. At first this was too much for him.
Jacob had carried his sorrow for years. Mercy arriving all at once was almost more than he could survive.
So unprepared is the heart of man for the tender mercy of our God, that the very announcement of it caused Jacob's heart to faint. His sorrow had been so deep that an attempt to relieve it, with nothing yet to prove it true, almost destroyed him for a moment. It had taken much discipline to break his strong will and untamed nature, but that discipline had fully done its work. How broken is he now!
Eleven eyewitnesses and Joseph's own message left Jacob unmoved. He needed something he could see, and one writer turns that habit back on us.
When the men returned and told Jacob that Joseph was still alive, he had before him the piled-up evidence of the eleven (besides, no doubt, many servants). Yet "his heart failed and he did not believe them" — even when they told him "all the words of Joseph." But when "he saw the wagons," his spirit revived, and he said, "It is enough, I will go." Those rough wooden carts were visible and touchable evidence of a brightened horizon and of a new and glorious world, still unknown and unseen. The sight of them settled his wavering mind. How true this is in the life of an "unbelieving believer": some small outward gift from the Lord confirms him more than the piled-up testimony of the eleven apostles and all their followers. It shows a low spiritual condition.
The turn came from Joseph's side, not from anything Jacob worked out for himself.
The grace and goodness of Joseph breaks down the unbelief of Jacob, and he says, "It is enough; Joseph my son is yet alive." This is the confession of faith. He believed with his heart and confessed the truth with his lips. Nor is there any other way of blessing for a sinner today. We may at first listen to the good news with unbelief. But as we hear the grace of the words of Christ, and see that everything has been done so that we might be blessed, our hearts are won.
These events are not fable but fact, and one writer sees God's own hand in the shape of them.
If these events did not go beyond fable, they were true. So they bear the clear stamp of God's ordering. They picture in advance what the prophets pledge in Jehovah's name: what one greater than Joseph was exalted to do when His brothers rejected Him — to sit at God's right hand with richer supplies for a starving world.
- Report. The brothers name Joseph first, then say he is alive and ruling. The message about Christ rests on the same two facts.
- Resistance. Jacob had once believed a lie about Joseph without asking a question; now a true report leaves him numb. Believing the truth takes a work of grace.
- Relief refused. His sorrow had run so deep that the announcement of mercy nearly undid him. Discipline had already broken him; mercy nearly overwhelmed him.
- Reassurance. Words from eleven witnesses did not move him. The wagons did — solid tokens of a world he had not yet seen.
- Revival. Goodness, not argument, won him. "It is enough" is his confession, and he acts on it: he gets up and goes.
And they spoke to him all the words of Joseph, which he had spoken to them. And he saw the waggons that Joseph had sent to carry him. And the spirit of Jacob their father revived.
Word had just reached Jacob that the son he had given up for dead was alive. The news left him numb. Then something small and wooden changed everything: the loaded carts standing in front of him, sent by Joseph himself.
The report alone did not move him. What broke through was the sight of Joseph's own wagons, loaded with supplies.
Back to Jacob they went with news of Joseph, astounding and to him almost unbelievable. But there were the wagons sent from Joseph with their full supplies. They were to him a foretaste and pledge of the good things to be found in Joseph's presence, and that produced conviction and revived Jacob's heart. His nerve returned and he was ready for the journey. The first gifts Joseph sent backed up his words.
The wagons did what the word of eleven men could not do.
The men returned and told Jacob that Joseph was still alive. He had in front of him the combined evidence of the eleven, and no doubt many servants too. Still, "his heart failed and he did not believe them," even when they told him "all the words of Joseph." But when "he saw the wagons," his spirit revived, and he said, "It is enough, I will go." Those rough wooden carts were visible, touchable evidence of a brighter horizon and a new and glorious world, as yet unknown and unseen. The sight of them settled his wavering mind.
The same writer turns the scene into a question about ourselves.
How true this is in the life of an "unbelieving believer." He is more convinced by some slight and unimportant outward evidence, some touchable, material gift from the Lord, than by the combined testimony of the eleven Apostles and all their followers. It does us no credit that a passing gift, or an answer to prayer, should encourage us more than the sacred words of Christ Himself. It shows a low spiritual condition. That is the difference between faith and credulity. Faith rests on the strongest evidence the universe affords — the word of God. But credulity, while not receiving that, will swallow any absurd claim that comes with a geologist's chip of stone. Faith floats, resting only on the waters of life. Credulity grasps at a straw, and sinks.
Two things reached Jacob together: a message and a visible gift.
And what convinced him? What decided him? It was the wagons... It was the word and the wagons. And as we take the wagons as a figure of the Holy Spirit, the meaning is beyond question. Sinners are convinced not by the word of the gospel alone, but by the Word and the Spirit. And the Spirit on earth is the evidence to men that Christ has been received up into glory, that He is alive and at the Father's right hand in the heavens.
The wagons did more than persuade. They also answered how a weak old man and his family would ever make the trip.
Joseph not only wants his brothers near to him, he also provides the means to bring them to himself. No exhausting march lay ahead for Jacob in his weakness and old age, no long, hard journey for the little ones and their mothers. No — they were carried every step of the way in the wagons. In other words, the power that carried them to Joseph came from Joseph.
The record changes his name the moment his spirit comes back. He faints as Jacob; he answers as Israel.
Notice the way the record introduces Jacob's new name, Israel. Jacob's heart had fainted because of unbelief, and then his spirit revived. But when his faith had revived, it is Israel who said, "It is enough." Again, at the start of Genesis 46 the faith of his heart turns into action. It is Israel who gathers his possessions together and travels, stopping at Beer-sheba to sacrifice to the God of his father Isaac. In these things he was acting in a way more worthy of one who was "Prince of God" than of one who was "Supplanter."
Reviving faith did not leave Jacob sitting still. It produced a longing that only Joseph's own company could satisfy.
Not only is faith kindled in the heart of Jacob. Love also goes out in longing towards Joseph — "I will go and see him before I die." This is the language of love that is satisfied with nothing less than the one it loves. The heart won by the grace of Christ will not be content at a distance. The test of love is this: does it want the company of the one it loves?
- News — The report that Joseph was alive left Jacob numb. Words on their own did not convince him.
- Evidence — The wagons were a foretaste and pledge of Joseph's world. He could touch proof of a place he had never seen.
- Power — Joseph's gifts convinced Jacob, then carried him. The strength for the journey came from Joseph.
- Name — Jacob faints; Israel answers. The man whose faith revives acts like a "Prince of God," not a "Supplanter."
- Longing — "Enough" did not mean "I can rest here." It meant "I will go and see him" — love wants the person, not just the news.
And Israel said, It is enough Joseph my son is yet alive; I will go and see him before I die.
Jacob has spent years believing his favourite son was dead. Now his sons stand in front of him with news he cannot take in. This verse catches the moment his doubt breaks: something convinces him, the text calls him Israel, and he sets his last years on one journey.
His sons' report alone left Jacob cold. What changed him was the wagons that came with it.
Back to Jacob they went with news of Joseph, astounding and to him almost unbelievable. But there were the wagons sent from Joseph with their full supplies. To him they were a foretaste and pledge of the good things waiting in Joseph's presence. That produced conviction and revived Jacob's heart. His nerve returned and he was ready for the journey. The words of Joseph had been supplemented by the firstfruits he sent.
"It is enough" is not resignation. It is a doubting man saying out loud what he now believes. One writer sees in it the only way anyone comes to be blessed.
Thus with Jacob, grace overcomes his unbelief... The grace and goodness of Joseph breaks down the unbelief of Jacob... This is the confession of faith. He believed with his heart and confessed the truth with his lips. Nor is there any other way of blessing for a sinner today... Jacob sees that Joseph has made every provision so that he himself might be blessed. In the same way, we see that Christ has done a great work so that each of us might be saved. God is satisfied with that work, for He has raised Christ from the dead.
The verse calls him Israel, not Jacob. One writer ties that new name to the words of faith and love he now speaks.
It was Jacob — the man so often marked by unbelief and crooked ways — who could not believe the good news. But as soon as he uses the language of faith, God gives him his new name "Israel." Jacob expressed all that he was by nature, Israel all that he was by grace. Faith is kindled in the heart of Jacob, and love also goes out in longing to Joseph — "I will go and see him before I die." This is the language of love. It is satisfied with nothing less than the one who is loved... Are we content to say, "we shall see Him when He comes, or when we die," or do we say "I will go and see Him before I die"?
One writer presses the detail further. He reads the wagons as a picture of the Holy Spirit.
And what convinced him? What was it that decided him? It was the wagons... It was the word and the wagons. And since we take the wagons as a figure of the Holy Spirit, the meaning is beyond question. Sinners are convinced, not by the word of the gospel alone, but by the Word and the Spirit. And the Spirit on earth is the evidence to men that Christ has been received up into glory. He is alive and at the Father's right hand in the heavens. (See John 16:8-11.)
Not every writer treats Jacob's change of heart as a model. One turns it into a mirror for believers today.
How true this is in the life of an "unbelieving believer." Some small, unimportant outward evidence — a gift from the Lord that he can touch and handle — confirms him more than the combined testimony of the eleven apostles and all their followers. It is not to our credit that this should be so, when a passing gift of providence, or an answer to prayer, encourages us more than the sacred words of Christ Himself. That shows a low spiritual condition. That is the difference between faith and credulity.
One writer reads the whole scene as a preview: a brother rejected, raised to power, feeding a starving world, and one day made known again to the family that wronged him.
They bear the clear mark of God's ordering. They prefigure what the prophets promise in Jehovah's name. A greater than Joseph was rejected by His brothers. He was exalted to sit at God's right hand, with richer supplies for a starving world. And He is about to make Himself known "the second time" to His brothers, whose hearts are broken in deep repentance.
- Word, then wagons. Joseph's words alone did not convince Jacob. The wagons he sent were the foretaste that revived his heart.
- Enough, then named. "It is enough" is his confession of faith. God then gives the man who says it his new name, Israel — all that he was by grace.
- Named, then loving. Faith is not the whole of it. Love follows, and love wants nothing less than the person it loves.
- Loving, then going. "Before I die" turns belief into a journey. Do we seek His company now, or only expect to see Him later?
- Going, then guarded. If a gift you can touch moves you more than the words of Christ, that is credulity, not faith.
And Israel took his journey with all that he had, and came to Beer-sheba; and he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac.
Joseph is alive in Egypt, and the old man sets out with everything he owns — but he does not head straight for the border. He stops at Beersheba, the last town in the south, and offers sacrifices to the God his father Isaac had worshipped.
The record does not call him Jacob here. Commentators note that the name changes with the man. His heart had failed through unbelief. Then his faith revived — and the man who acts on it is called Israel.
The way in which Jacob's new name of Israel is introduced in the record is worthy of note. Jacob's heart had fainted because of unbelief, and then his spirit revived. But when his faith had revived, it is Israel who said, "It is enough." Again, at the start of Genesis 46 the faith in his heart turns into action. It is Israel who gathers his possessions together and sets out, stopping at Beersheba to sacrifice to the God of his father Isaac. In all this he was acting in a way that suited his new name, "Prince of God," better than his old one, "Supplanter."
He had set out for Egypt at once, on natural feeling alone. The stop shows a different mind at work in him.
Nature had acted in Jacob at Mamre, as soon as he believed the report about Joseph, and set him at once on the road to Egypt. But now his spiritual senses have woken up, and they are challenging what nature had decided and how it acts. This is very common. The believer now feels a holding back where the father had felt none. Jacob had not talked with the Lord about this journey when he set out. But the mind of Christ in him, his conscience in the Holy Spirit, so to speak, is now taking the lead. It goes back over what nature had judged, and weighs it in the light of the Lord.
Something came back to him at that spot — a word God had once spoken to his father.
Many years before this the Lord had said to Isaac, "Do not go down to Egypt" (Gen. 26:2). He said it to Isaac in a time of famine, like this one. Jacob remembers this as soon as he reaches Beersheba. That was the last place in the south of the land, on the road to Egypt. From there he could look out over the very country Isaac had been warned not to enter.
Beersheba was not a random stopping point. Its name carried the memory of what God had sworn.
On his way he stopped at Beersheba, which means "the well of the oath." The name shows that he remembered the promise of God he was leaning on. It is good to see him offering sacrifices there.
It also held his own history, including the worst of it.
Here Jacob had deceived his father and stolen his brother's blessing. But now he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac. Now he knew God's only way to deal with sin. He remembered his cheating, his faults and his sorrows. But at Beersheba he remembered even more deeply that through a sacrifice God could be merciful, righteous and kind. He knew God's grace; and that the God who was for him in the past, would be for him in the future.
Scripture does not say what animals he brought. But the plural word tells us something, and so does the timing.
We are not told how many sacrifices he offered, or what kind. Clearly he did not give with a stingy hand, for he must have killed more than one animal that night. Yet, though blood flowed freely, it seems he brought no drink-offering on that occasion. He sacrificed at Beersheba before God spoke to him; he raised up the pillar at Bethel after God had appeared to him.
So the sacrifices trace back to a change inside him.
All this accounts to me for Jacob's sacrifices at Beersheba to the God of his father Isaac. And all this has great moral meaning in it. It was a mighty stir in Jacob's soul, and it was very acceptable to the Lord... This waking up in Jacob pleased the Lord so much that He came to him at once with words of comfort.
The verse begins with movement, and the movement costs something.
To reach Joseph, Israel had to make the journey (Gen. 46:1). He had to leave behind everything he naturally loved. And so with ourselves, if we are to reach Christ where He is, we must forget the things that are behind.
- Journey — The man who sets out is called Israel, the name of faith in action, not Jacob the supplanter.
- Halt — Affection started the trip; conscience reviewed it. At the edge of the land, a word once given to Isaac about Egypt came back to him.
- Place — Beersheba, "the well of the oath," held both God's promise and Jacob's old deceit; he met both at an altar.
- Sacrifice — More than one animal died that night, and Jacob worshipped before God had spoken a word to him.
- Answer — That stirring in his soul was very acceptable to God, and He came at once with words of comfort. Reaching Joseph still meant leaving everything familiar behind.
And God spoke to Israel in the visions of the night and said, Jacob, Jacob! And he said, Here am I.
Jacob stands at Beersheba, the last town of the promised land. Egypt lies ahead, and there, at night, God calls his name twice. Why did God speak only now, at the border? And why did He call him by the old name, Jacob?
Jacob had set out for Egypt the moment he believed Joseph was alive. One writer sees two forces at work. Natural feeling started the journey; conscience spoke up later.
Nature had acted in Jacob at Mamre, as soon as he believed the report about Joseph, and set him at once on the road to Egypt. But now the spiritual sensibilities have woken up, and are challenging the conclusions and ways of nature. This is very common. The saint is now feeling reserve, where the father had felt none. Jacob had not dealt with the Lord about this journey as he was beginning it. But the mind of Christ in him, his conscience in the Holy Spirit, so to speak, is now taking the lead. He reviews the judgment of nature, and reviews it in the light of the Lord... It was a mighty stir in Jacob's soul, and it was very acceptable to the Lord... so acceptable that He comes to him at once with words of comfort.
Egypt was not neutral ground for this family. Two earlier stories hung over it.
But Jacob seems to tremble a little at the thought of Egypt. There Abram had sinned, and there God had warned Isaac not to go. Jacob might say, "Joseph is still alive, I will go and see him before I die." But he seems to start his journey with some godly fear, because it was carrying him toward this Egypt. So when he reaches Beersheba, he pauses on his way and offers sacrifice to the God of his father. But now the hand of the God of his father will show itself to Jacob, to give him full confidence. He comes to him in a vision of the night, and adds His encouragement to that of Joseph's invitation and Pharaoh's desire.
The verse names him Israel, then records God calling him Jacob, Jacob. The place had its own history too.
Beersheba also belonged in a special way to his father Isaac, and Jacob's wanderings had begun from that spot — see Genesis 28:10. Jacob had now come full circle, if we may say so, and was back at the point of departure. So we find God Himself stepping in and dealing directly with him. Jacob had responded in faith. Yet God knew that the old Jacob nature was still strong in him, and He addressed him as such. The repetition of his name added emphasis to the revelation God gave.
The old name fits the man who was afraid. God spoke to him there and steadied him.
But now God spoke to Israel in the vision of the night, after he had offered sacrifices to his father's God. He called him by his name of natural weakness, and told him to go down into Egypt without fear... God entered into the anxieties of His feeble servant and knew how to strengthen his tried heart.
Jacob's answer is three short words. Others answered God the same way — and later so did the Lord Himself.
God's greatness and majesty produced a striking response when He spoke in grace to saints of old. When He called, "Abraham, Abraham," the answer came at once: "Here am I." When He said, "Jacob, Jacob," the reply came at once too: "Here am I." To Moses He spoke, "Moses, Moses!" and Moses answered at once, "Here am I." When, however, the Lord Himself should come, Isaiah 52:6 says — more correctly translated — "I am THE SAME, that says, HERE AM I." Yes, indeed, He is "the same"... The same One is heard speaking as before, in the same manner, but as come down in lowly grace, "Martha, Martha!" and "Simon, Simon!"
God spoke to Jacob in a vision at night. One writer weighs that against what we have now.
And God has often used visions of the night. It is true that we have something far better. We have the vision of the day. We have the great vision of Christ shown in flesh. We have the vision of God showing Himself, speaking and acting for us in this world of sin and death.
- Pause. Jacob's conscience woke at the border. He reviewed nature's decision "in the light of the Lord" before he crossed.
- Place. Beersheba was where his wandering began. Back at the starting point, God stepped in and dealt with him directly.
- Name. God called him by his name of natural weakness, twice over. He met the anxious man, not the ideal one.
- Answer. "Here I am" is the quick reply of Abraham, Jacob and Moses. Later they are the words of the Lord Himself, come down in lowly grace.
- Progress. Jacob had the vision of the night; we have the vision of the day, God showing Himself in Christ.
And he said, I am God, the God of thy father fear not to go down to Egypt; for I will there make of thee a great nation.
Jacob reaches Beersheba, the last stop on the southern edge of Canaan, and pauses there before leaving the promised land. God answers with a word that names Himself, forbids fear, and turns the move into a promise — yet God had once told Jacob's father to stay out of Egypt.
Jacob's hesitation had a history behind it. God gave his father the opposite instruction in the same kind of famine. Jacob remembered it at the very spot where Egypt came into view.
Many years before this the Lord had said to Isaac, "Do not go down into Egypt" (Gen. 26:2); and He said it in a time of famine, like this one. Jacob remembers it as soon as he reaches Beersheba. That was the last place in the southern part of the land, on the way to Egypt. From there Egypt lay stretched out before him — the country the Lord had warned Isaac not to enter.
God's permission here stands out all the more against Abraham's own failure in Egypt.
What grace on God's part! Abram had gone down into Egypt under the pressure of famine, and failed badly there, whatever riches he gained. … Israel needed God to tell him not to fear going down there — and God did. He would make of him a great nation there, with special comfort nearer still to his heart.
God speaks to a man whose faith has just revived, yet He does not address him as Israel. The doubled call, "Jacob, Jacob," is deliberate.
Beersheba too was closely tied to his father Isaac, and Jacob's wanderings had begun from that spot — see Genesis 28:10. Jacob had now come full circle, if we may put it that way, and was back at his point of departure. So we find God Himself stepping in and dealing directly with him. He had responded in faith. Yet God knew that the old Jacob nature was still strong in him, and addressed him as such. The repetition of his name added emphasis to the revelation God gave.
The message does two things at once. It settles his dread of Egypt, and it answers his old longing over his lost son.
When we think about this for a moment, we may well say, what a communication this was! How fully it let Jacob know that the Lord had read his whole heart! The Lord knew his present fears and his older affections. He knew the mind of the father and the mind of the believer, the desires of nature and the sensitivities of the spirit. "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt" calmed the present uneasiness of his renewed mind. "Joseph shall put his hand upon your eyes" satisfied the earlier longing of his heart over his long-lost child. How full all this was!
The same tenderness is heard in the choice of name and the plain command that follows it.
God spoke to Israel in the vision of the night, after he had offered sacrifices to his father's God, who called him by his name of natural weakness and told him to go down to Egypt without fear… God entered into the anxieties of His feeble servant and knew how to strengthen his tried heart.
"There I will make you into a great nation" fixes the location. The making would happen under pressure.
First, God so ordered the stay in Egypt that Jacob's family and descendants would grow there and be welded into a great nation… The troubles of Egypt worked like a furnace of iron and welded them into a nation that God took for His own. The hour had now come for them to face that testing, though at the start everything looked favourable.
Egypt also supplied conditions Canaan could not.
Without doubt the Lord directed this move to Egypt. He meant to guard the family from scattering, and from mixing with strangers. The important period had now come in which the family was to grow into a nation. In Canaan both of these harms would have been unavoidable. In Egypt neither could happen. Goshen gave ample room for their growing numbers, and the Egyptians' dislike of shepherds (46:34) prevented ties of intermarriage between them.
The words to Jacob are not a fresh plan. They line up with what had been told to Abraham long before.
Jacob was leaving the land of promise, and he might have felt some anxiety. However, God told him, "I am God, the God of your father," and gave him the encouragement of knowing that God approved of his trip to Egypt at this time (vv. 2-3)… This confirms God's word to Abram in Genesis 15:13. Abram's offspring would be a stranger in a foreign land, and there, as servants, they would be afflicted 400 years.
- Fear had reasons. Abraham failed badly in Egypt, and God told Isaac to stay out of it. Jacob's hesitation at Beersheba came from memory, not superstition.
- Fear got an answer. God named Himself the God of Jacob's father, told him not to fear, and called him by his old name — the name of the nature still strong in him.
- Fear and longing. One short message calmed his dread of Egypt and satisfied his longing over Joseph. God had read his whole heart.
- Fear became a nation. In the land he dreaded, God kept his family from scattering, kept them from intermarriage, and welded them into a people.
- Fear met an older promise. Jacob heard God confirm His word to Abraham — the great nation, and the affliction that would come first.
I will go down with thee to Egypt, and I will also certainly bring thee up; and Joseph shall put his hand on thine eyes.
Jacob is old, and he is leaving the land God promised him, because the son he thought was dead is alive in Egypt. He stops at Beer-sheba to sacrifice, and God answers his fear with four short promises: presence, a nation, a return, and Joseph's hand at his death.
Egypt had been a dangerous word in this family.
What grace on God's part! Famine drove Abram down into Egypt, and he failed badly there, whatever riches he gained. Famine could have drawn Isaac away too, just as it drew his father. But God forbade him to go there, and told him to stay in the land under the assurance of His blessing. Israel needed God to tell him not to fear going down there — and God did tell him. There He would make of him a great nation, with a special comfort nearer still to his heart.
The same God who once barred the road now points down it:
In Genesis 26:2, we read of God appearing to Isaac and saying, "Do not go down to Egypt." Because of this command, Egypt drops out of the picture until we find Joseph carried there. Now, however, the divine direction is exactly opposite, and Jacob was not to be afraid to go. God's word to him was brief, but it contained four distinct promises.
Take the second promise first. It explains what kept a small family from dissolving into Egypt.
But, in the second place, this would only happen because God Himself would go down with them. Had He not done so, the many evils of that land would quickly have swamped them. As it was, those evils did infect them, as their later history showed; but the presence of God with them secured the testimony to Himself among them.
Egypt is where the family grows, and the hardship there does part of the work.
First, God would so order the stay in Egypt that Jacob's family and descendants would increase there and be welded into a great nation... The troubles of Egypt acted like a furnace of iron, and welded them into a nation that God took for His own. The hour had now come for them to face this hard experience, though at the start everything looked favourable.
The third promise looks past the whole stay in Egypt.
So in the third place, God promised that in His own time He would bring them up out of Egypt. Then they would be back in the land that was theirs according to His word. God never swerves from His declared purpose, though to reach it He may take ways that seem to contradict it. So verse 4 shows the difference between God's purpose and His ways. We need to keep that difference in mind in God's dealings with us today.
But Jacob never made that journey home himself:
God promises His own presence with Jacob, and that He would surely bring him back again. This return of course referred to Jacob's descendants, the nation Israel. For as to Jacob himself, Joseph would close his eyes, that is, in death, though he was buried in the land of Canaan. He would not personally experience the sufferings his children would.
The final clause is not about nations at all. It is about a father and the son he had lost.
What a message this was! How fully it showed Jacob that the Lord had read his whole heart — his present fears and his earlier affections, the mind of the father and the mind of the saint, the desires of nature and the feelings of the spirit. "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt" calmed the present unease of his renewed mind. "Joseph's hand shall close your eyes" satisfied the older longing of his heart for his long-lost child... The groan he never uttered in any human ear had reached, in all its meaning, the ear of Him who searches the heart.
The promise reaches beyond the exodus, to the end of Israel's story:
Jacob's wanderings are the picture of Israel's sad history, and the pledge of their future and blessed restoration to the promised land, as God announced in Gen. 46:4 and predicts in Jacob's last words (Gen. 49). The burials of his body and Joseph's in that land point the same way.
- Down — Abram went down and failed. God forbade Isaac to go. Jacob is told to go without fear: the same step can be sin or obedience, depending on who sends you.
- With — the family survives Egypt only because God goes down too. His presence, not their strength, keeps the testimony alive.
- Through — the furnace is not a detour; the pressure of Egypt is what welds a household into a nation God calls His own.
- Up — God's purpose never changes, though His ways to reach it can look like the opposite. He kept the promised return in Jacob's descendants, not in Jacob's own feet.
- Home — the last promise is personal. A son's hand closes a father's eyes, proof that God had heard the groan Jacob never spoke aloud.
And Jacob rose up from Beer-sheba; and the sons of Israel carried Jacob their father, and their little ones, and their wives, on the waggons that Pharaoh had sent to carry him.
Jacob is an old man at Beersheba, on the edge of Canaan, with Pharaoh's wagons waiting for him. Why does he leave the land of promise, and what carries him there?
Beersheba was not a random stop. Egypt had a bad history in this family, and God met Jacob's fear there before a single wheel turned.
Beersheba was a memorable spot to Isaac. He built an altar there and called on the name of the LORD, who had appeared to him there. This was some time after he had been forbidden to go down into Egypt, even under the pressure of famine, as Abraham had wrongly done. But now God spoke to Israel in a vision of the night. Jacob had offered sacrifices to his father's God, and God called him by his name of natural weakness and told him to go down into Egypt without fear... Jacob was not to hesitate. "I myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I will also bring you up again, and Joseph's hand shall close your eyes." God entered into the anxieties of His feeble servant. He knew how to strengthen his tried heart.
The name of the place spoke too:
On his way he stopped at Beersheba (the well of the oath), which shows he remembered the promise of God that he depended on.
The wagons matter because of who sent them.
Joseph not only wants his brothers near him, he provides the means to bring them to himself. No exhausting march lay ahead of Jacob in his weakness and old age. There was no long journey for the little ones and their mothers. No — they were carried every step of the journey in the wagons. In other words, the power that carried them to Joseph came from Joseph.
His sons' report alone had not convinced him:
The king suggested the wagons, and left Joseph to supply them. Those wagons played their part in persuading the father to believe the report that at first made his heart fail — that Joseph was still alive... there it was, in the means of going down into Egypt that his sons could not have provided.
One writer reads the wagons as a picture of how we travel to Christ.
Does all this not teach us that the power by which we make the pilgrimage to our Joseph — our heavenly Isaac — comes from the place where He is? Did He not, after His ascension, send us the Holy Spirit to live in our bodies? It would be a great gain if we believed this simple but deeply important fact, that ALL our power for life and journey comes from our risen Lord.
Why did the sight of the carts change his mind?
Those rough wooden carts were evidence of a brighter horizon and a new and glorious world, still unknown and unseen. Jacob could see them and touch them. The sight of them settled his wavering mind.
The same writer turns this on the reader:
It is not to our credit when some passing gift from God's hand, or an answer to prayer, encourages us more than the sacred words of Christ Himself. It shows a low spiritual condition. That is the difference between faith and gullibility. Faith rests on the strongest evidence in the universe — the word of God.
They did not travel to Egypt empty-handed.
But they also took their livestock and the goods they had gained in Canaan, and came into Egypt. Jacob and his sons had no intention of entering that land as mere dependents of its ruler, whatever his wish to honour Joseph, and whatever the promise that the best of all Egypt would be theirs.
The journey follows something that has already happened:
The reconciliation, as we have now seen, is complete. Joseph has received his brothers, and so everything is ready for Israel's full blessing. Restoration must follow conversion... The aged father, with his household and flocks, is brought from Canaan.
- Word first. Jacob leaves Beersheba, the well of the oath, only after God meets his fear in the night and promises to go with him.
- Wagons second. The carts came from the son he was travelling to. His sons could never have supplied them.
- Power throughout. Old age and little children make no difference. The strength for the journey comes from the place you are going.
- Faith above sight. The carts settled his mind. But a believer who leans on visible gifts more than on God's word is in a low condition.
- Everyone arrives. Wives, children, livestock, goods — after Joseph receives his brothers, the whole family travels into blessing together.
And they took their cattle, and their goods which they had acquired in the land of Canaan, and came to Egypt, Jacob and all his seed with him;
Genesis 46:6 records the point of no return. The livestock, the property gathered in Canaan, and every descendant of Jacob cross into Egypt. Was the move a retreat from faith, or a step inside God's own plan?
Egypt had once been off limits to this family. Commentators note that God's word to Jacob reverses an earlier word to his father:
In Genesis 26:2, God appeared to Isaac and said, "Do not go down to Egypt." Because of that command, Egypt stays out of the picture until Joseph is carried there. Now God's direction is the exact opposite: Jacob was not to be afraid to go. God's word to him was brief, but it contained four distinct promises.
So the move in verse 6 is not Jacob improvising under pressure. He set out only after God spoke.
Hunger drove them south. But writers trace the move back to a promise God made to Abram long before:
The famine was what sent them down to Egypt. But by the famine — as by the wickedness of Jacob's sons in selling their brother to the Ishmaelites (Gen. 37:28) — God was only bringing about His own purposes. Long before this He had said to Abram, "Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions." (Gen. 15:13-14.)
The verse notes the livestock and goods they had gained in Canaan. Kelly reads that detail as deliberate — they did not come to live off Pharaoh:
Jacob and his sons had no thought of entering that land as mere dependents of its ruler. That was true however much he wanted to show Joseph every honour, and whatever his promise that the best of all the land of Egypt would be theirs. So they took their belongings along with them into Egypt.
They walked in with property of their own, and God had promised they would walk out with more (Gen. 15:14).
To anyone watching the road that day, the sight was unimpressive. Kelly adds that Egypt was never meant to be their home:
To the natural eye it was a sorry sight... Yet here was the seed of a people, who would live as strangers in a land not their own for a while, but then return and take possession of Canaan.
Kelly warns that the warm welcome hid what Egypt was in God's eyes:
Israel came down under the prestige of Egypt's greatest governor and the warmest royal favour. They might have looked for nothing but ease and honour, settled as they were in the best of the land, in Goshen... Yet despite appearances, Egypt in the LORD's eyes meant servitude and affliction. That is what happened once Joseph's protection was gone.
Hole takes up the second of the four promises made to Jacob:
But, in the second place, this result would only come about because God Himself would go down with them. If He had not, the many evils of that land would quickly have swamped them. As it was, those evils did infect them, as their later history showed. But God's presence with them secured the testimony to Himself among them.
Hole draws out the difference between God's purpose and His ways:
God never swerves from His declared purpose, though to reach it He may take ways that seem to contradict it... Our calling is a heavenly one, so we must take firm hold of God's purpose for us as members of Christ. On the other hand, we should not be surprised at, or stumble over, the ways He may take with us to reach that purpose.
Grant sets the size of the family against what God made of them:
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation had a small beginning: the seventy people who came into Egypt with Jacob. Set that against their remarkable and unstoppable increase. Even the bondage ahead of them had already been promised to them, and what seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them.
- Command. The move was not a lapse of faith. God reversed the earlier ban given to Isaac and told Jacob not to be afraid to go.
- Company. Their safety rested on God going down with them, not on Joseph's position. Joseph's protection is what failed them later.
- Cargo. They brought their own herds and property from Canaan. They came as a household with something of their own, not as dependents of Pharaoh.
- Crucible. The welcome was real but short-lived. The land that received them with honour was already named as a place of servitude and affliction.
- Count. Seventy people walked in and a nation walked out. What looked most against them was God's promise doing its work.
his sons and his sons' sons with him, his daughters and his sons' daughters and all his seed he brought with him to Egypt.
This verse lists Jacob's family twice over: sons, grandsons, daughters, granddaughters — then all his offspring again. Why did the whole family have to leave the promised land? And why does Scripture record so ordinary a journey with such care?
Egypt had already proved dangerous ground for this family. What God said to Jacob stands out against what came before.
What grace on God's part! Famine pushed Abram down into Egypt, and he failed badly there, whatever riches he gained. Famine might have drawn Isaac away too, as it drew his father. But God forbade Isaac to go there. He told him to stay in the land, with the promise of His blessing. Israel needed God to tell him not to fear going down there — and God did. There He would make of him a great nation, and gave him a comfort closer still to his heart.
Pharaoh's wagons could have made this family look like guests living off a king's charity. They did not travel that way.
But they took their livestock also, and their goods which they had gained in Canaan, and came into Egypt. Jacob and his sons had no idea of entering that land as mere dependents on its prince. It made no difference that Pharaoh wanted to show every honour to Joseph, or that he had promised them the good of all the land of Egypt.
To anyone watching by the roadside, this was a migrant clan and nothing more. Only faith could see what it really was.
It was a sorry spectacle to the eye of sense... Yet there was the seed of a people, to live as strangers in a land not their own for a while, but to return and take possession of Canaan.
The slavery that followed was no interruption of the promise.
Here we see grace in its first working. A nation begins small, in the seventy souls that came into Egypt with Jacob. Set that against their marvellous, unstoppable increase. God had already promised them even the bondage they were coming into, and what seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them. The hand of power works in disguise, yet faith can see right through it. The story is the same in essence, whether told of the nation of Israel or of any of the Lord's redeemed.
The long name-list that follows can look like filler.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house... Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
That list is made of names, not just a number.
Now we learn the names of everyone in Jacob's household who came with him. This shows that our great God takes an interest in people one by one, not only in nations or great companies.
God promised to make Jacob a great nation in Egypt. Yet Egypt was the last place such a family could survive.
They would only reach that result because God Himself would go down with them. Had He not done so, the abounding evils of that land would soon have swamped them. As it was, those evils did infect them, as their later history showed; but the presence of God with them secured the testimony to Himself among them.
Going down to Egypt looked like a step away from the land God promised.
God never swerves from His declared purpose, though to reach it He may pursue ways that seem to contradict it. So verse 4 shows the difference between God's purpose and His ways. We need to keep that difference in mind when we think about God's dealings with us today.
The family only moves because the brother they wronged has forgiven them. One writer reads that order as a picture of Israel's future.
As this wonderful story moves on, the reconciliation is now complete. Joseph has received his brothers, so everything is ready for Israel's full blessing. Restoration must follow conversion. Times of refreshing and restitution must come when Israel repents.
- Fear answered. Abram failed in Egypt. God forbade Isaac to go. To Jacob God said, do not be afraid — the same land, a different word.
- Everyone came. Sons, grandsons, daughters, granddaughters — and their own livestock and goods. They entered Egypt as a people, not as dependents.
- Small on purpose. Seventy souls looked like nothing, yet held the seed of a nation. Even the coming slavery was promise at work in disguise.
- Named, not counted. The list that follows shows God's interest in what men count too small to record. He knows people one by one, not just nations.
- God went too. God's presence kept Egypt from swallowing them. His ways may look opposite to His purpose, yet they never miss it.
And these are the names of the sons of Israel who came into Egypt Jacob and his sons. Jacob's firstborn, Reuben.
The story stops at the border of Egypt for a list of names — Jacob, his sons, and their sons. Why does Scripture give room to a plain roll of names, and what is God doing with these seventy people?
This is not a family's own paperwork. One commentator reads it as a register God Himself keeps.
This is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls counting Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" without them… The time was near when they would exchange the life of one family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording what looks small to men. Human nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Lists like this one have long been a target for critics. One commentator answers them by asking how a genealogy should be read.
If we truly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we must read the genealogies by their own aim, not by modern ideas. It is plain on the face of them that they contain difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left these; he would have taken every care to avoid them. The writer, though, knew details that we may not. He states plainly what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear the difficulties up.
So what is the aim here? Another writer answers that the chapter sets out the whole household.
On the whole, the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is plainly to give Jacob's family. So it mentions some who did not go down to Egypt. Hezron and Hamul are brought into the verse on purpose — not in the list of sons, but as linked with them. The saying, "Your fathers went down to Egypt seventy persons, and now the LORD your God has made you as numerous as the stars of heaven," takes up the general fact to show the amazing increase.
Three totals attach to this one group: two in the chapter itself, and a third when Stephen retells the story in the book of Acts. One writer asks what each number counts.
The question is not really about truth, but about purpose and way of speaking. The original history itself speaks of 66 (verse 26) and 70 (verse 27). Even in verse 26 the Hebrew strictly means "belong to," not "with Jacob." The 70 are his house, and that takes in more. The old Greek translation, which Stephen quotes, adds five more, though they were born in Egypt. It follows the well known custom of treating parent and children as one.
One short note settles who is counted in the thirty-three:
Dinah is not counted in the thirty-three; Er and Onan are.
The names fall into groups, mother by mother. One writer sees two things at work in that order.
Here again we find the natural order, but arranged by the wives. God has the upper hand in everything that concerns the family of promise. At the same time, Leah and Rachel each reap the fruit of their own self-will.
Why did Jacob's family leave the promised land at all? A famine and a crime lie on the surface. One writer looks beneath them.
The immediate cause of their going down to Egypt was the famine. But by the famine, as by the wickedness of Jacob's sons in selling their brother to the Ishmaelites (Gen. 37:28), God was simply carrying out His own purposes. Long before this He had said to Abram, "Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs… and afterward they shall come out with great possessions." (Gen. 15:13-14.) It fills us with wonder to think that whatever men do, even in wickedness and open rebellion, God bends it to establish His own counsels of grace and love.
Egypt looks like exile. Seen from the end, it is where a household grew into a nation.
Egypt was the nursery God provided for the chosen race while it grew from one great family — the sons and grandsons of one father — into a people meant for their inheritance. God sheltered them in mercy for a time, so that they would grow all the more under hardship when it came.
Egypt would later mean slavery.
Even the slavery they were coming into had already been promised them. What seemed most against them was in fact the working out of promise for them.
- Register. The names are God's own record of Jacob's house — proof of the interest He takes in what looks small to people.
- Aim. Read a genealogy by the purpose it serves. Here the aim is to give Jacob's family, so it names some who did not go down to Egypt.
- Numbers. Sixty-six, seventy and seventy-five are not rival totals but different reckonings of the same household.
- Order. The list groups the sons by their mothers. God keeps the upper hand in the family of promise, and Leah and Rachel reap what their own wills sowed.
- Increase. Famine, a brother's betrayal, even the slavery ahead — all carried out a promise made to Abram. Egypt became the nursery where seventy souls grew into a nation.
And the sons of Reuben Enoch, and Phallu, and Hezron, and Carmi.
The verse gives four names and nothing else: the sons Reuben brought with him into Egypt. Why does Scripture stop to record them? And why does Reuben, who lost his birthright, still head the family list?
One writer reads the whole list as an official record, and notes what God thought worth keeping:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house, "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, "sixty-six" without these... The time was near when they would stop being one family and become a people. In Genesis that family had already grown into twelve families. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Another writer draws the same lesson from the names, and shows how the number seventy is reached:
Now we are told the names of everyone in Jacob's household who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in people one by one, not only in nations or large groups. The total was 66 persons (v. 26), plus Joseph and his two sons. Jacob himself is the seventieth.
Reuben's sons open the list because Reuben was the eldest. But that honour did not stay with him:
As the firstborn of Israel he had a prominent place. The firstborn, or the one who stands in that place, comes before the whole family. The main family line usually runs through him. But Reuben is set aside, and the high place that came with the birthright only sank him the lower when he lost it. When did the natural order ever hold up under God's righteous government? The order of nature is not God's order, and nothing can meet nature's waywardness except the sovereign mercy of God.
That reversal runs through the whole book:
Hence the firstborns in the book of Genesis lose the place of blessing. Cain, what is he? Ishmael gives place to Isaac; Esau to Jacob; Reuben to Joseph. "That which is first is natural, and afterwards that which is spiritual."
Exodus repeats this family list. There too Reuben comes first and gets only one verse. One writer explains why:
Coming in at this point is a partial genealogy of the first three sons of Jacob. Reuben and Simeon each get only one verse... For Reuben speaks of the strength of the flesh (Gen. 49:3) which can have no place in the true service of God.
One writer takes the four names one by one, and weighs what each can mean:
We have also looked briefly at his four sons in Ex. 6:14. Enoch means "dedicated," Phallu "separated," Hetzron "enclosed," Carmi "vine-dresser." All these can carry a good meaning, although all of them may be without fruit. They remain as permanent heads of families in the account before us...
The names do not vanish. The eldest son founded a family line that carried his name:
Eldest son of Reuben, and founder of the HANOCHITES. Gen. 46:9; Ex. 6:14; Num. 26:5; 1 Chr. 5:3.
The verse calls him Hanoch; some translations spell it "Enoch." The second son also appears under two spellings:
Second son of Reuben, and his descendants. Ex. 6:14; Num. 26:5, 8; 1 Chr. 5:3. He is called PHALLU in Gen. 46:9.
Why record so small a group? The number seventy becomes the measure for what God does later:
On the whole the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is to give Jacob's family... Then there is the saying, "Your fathers went down into Egypt with seventy persons, and now the LORD your God has made you as the stars of heaven for multitude." It takes up the general fact to show the marvellous increase.
- Named. God keeps a register of one household. He cares about people one by one, and about things the world counts too small to record.
- First. Reuben's sons head the list by birth order. But Reuben lost his birthright, and his high place only sank him lower.
- Pattern. In Genesis the firstborn keeps losing the place of blessing. What comes first is natural; what comes after is spiritual.
- Fruit. All four names carry a good meaning — dedicated, separated, enclosed, vine-dresser — yet all of them may be without fruit.
- Increase. These four men become lasting family heads. The seventy who went down become a multitude like the stars.
-- And the sons of Simeon Jemuel, and Jamin, and Ohad, and Jachin, and Zohar, and Saul the son of a Canaanitish woman.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
-- And the sons of Levi Gershon, Kohath, and Merari.
Genesis 46 is God's register of everyone who went down into Egypt with Jacob, name by name, family by family. Three of those names are the sons of Levi. Their father had already earned a sentence of scattering. Yet their families would end up carrying the tabernacle — the tent where Israel worshipped God.
The list is not filler. One writer treats it as an official roll, and draws attention to what God chooses to preserve:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house, "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, "sixty-six" without these… The time was near when they would exchange the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Levi himself had a dark record. His first recorded act, shared with his brother Simeon, hangs over the whole family:
The first action of Levi recorded in the Scriptures is an act of cruelty. Levi was one of Jacob's twelve sons. Excessive anger drove that act, and he carried it out by deceit (read the account in Genesis 34): "Simeon and Levi … took their swords, came upon the city boldly, and killed all the males." … This is why the blessing of the tribe of Levi later turned into a curse: "Cursed be their anger, for it was fierce; and their wrath, for it was cruel: I will … scatter them."
That word of scattering hung over Gershon, Kohath and Merari from birth. What God did with it is the point commentators return to:
Levi was scattered in Israel as a punishment for that terrible sin, committed centuries before at Shechem. But now, for our encouragement, see the grace of God. The very punishment, the scattering in Israel, becomes an unspeakable blessing. God chooses this tribe to come near to Him. He scatters them in Israel, and the result is that through them the knowledge of God and His Word is spread just as widely across Israel.
Later these three names become three working groups around the tabernacle. Each group had its own load to carry:
Levi had three sons: Gershon, Kohath, and Merari (Num. 3:17). Their respective families and descendants formed three different groups, each with different tasks. The Gershonites looked after the tabernacle, the tent and the coverings (v.25). The Kohathites were entrusted with the holy vessels of the sanctuary (v.32). The Merarites had the care of the boards, the bars, the pillars and sockets of the tabernacle (v. 37).
Some writers read the names as pictures of the service each family gave. Gershon means "exile":
A true exile is someone who feels his exile, even if it lasts only a while, from the home of his heart. And this sense of being a stranger is what gives power for purity and freedom from defilement.
The last of the three names carries a harder note, and it touches the cost of the work:
Last of Levi's three sons we find Merari, "bitter," with his two sons, Mahli, "sick," and Mushi, "yielding." … These families have charge of the boards of the tabernacle and its bars, its pillars and sockets… who has ever done this work without finding the bitterness that Merari's name expresses? Anyone who could not feel it would be poorly fitted for ministry.
Kohath, the middle name here, begins the line that leads to Moses. That line also answers a question people ask about Israel's time in Egypt: how long was it?
How long were the Israelites in Egypt? In Gen. 15:13 and Acts 7:6, the period seems to be stated as four hundred years… Gen. 15:16 implies a much shorter period. It says of Israel in Egypt that "in the fourth generation they shall come back here again." If we turn to Ex. 6:16-20 we find exactly four generations: Jacob's son Levi. Levi's son Kohath. Kohath's son Amram. Amram's son Moses.
- Recorded — this verse sits inside God's own register of a family on its way to becoming a nation. He records what people count too small to write down.
- Ruined — Levi's own story starts with cruelty at Shechem. His father's curse of scattering fell on the tribe these three sons began.
- Reversed — grace turned the punishment into the blessing. God brought this tribe near to Himself, and their scattering spread the knowledge of His Word across Israel.
- Ranked — the three names become three families with three separate charges: the coverings, the holy vessels, and the framework.
- Reaching — Levi, Kohath, Amram, Moses: four generations. The man who would lead Israel out of Egypt was already in this list of names going in.
-- And the sons of Judah Er, and Onan, and Shelah, and Pherez, and Zerah; but Er and Onan died in the land of Canaan. And the sons of Pherez were Hezron and Hamul.
Jacob's family is moving from Canaan to Egypt, and the list of names stops at Judah. It names two sons who had already died and two grandsons who take their place — so why list men who never made the journey?
The chapter sets out Jacob's family, so it names people a travel list would leave out.
Genesis 46 is simply a record of the immediate descendants of Jacob who were with him in Egypt, giving his family. This twelfth verse is plainly genealogy. It does not say that everyone named in it went down into Egypt. Er and Onan are named because they are sons, though the text states plainly that they did not go down at all.
The line about Hezron and Hamul is built differently from the rest, and the difference matters.
In verse 12 the word "were" is emphatic, and the phrase, I take it, is clearly meant to be supplementary. The verse does not run, "Er, and Onan, and Shelah, and Perez, and Zerah, and the sons of Perez, Hezron and Hamul." That is how it would read if they had all been among those going down into Egypt. The historian stops at Zerah and adds extra information. Er and Onan were on the list of sons, but they did not go down, for they had died before. And Perez's sons were Hezron and Hamul. They are seen as filling up the gap.
The same reading settles the chapter's arithmetic and shows why these two grandsons appear at all.
This table counts 32 from Leah, 16 from Zilpah, 11 from Rachel and 7 from Bilhah, making 66. But the head also goes with his house, so Jacob himself is counted in with Leah's children. That is why 33 are credited to her, though only 32 are named, counting Dinah and leaving out Er and Onan, who died in Canaan. Objectors have failed to notice the peculiar way verse 12 mentions Hezron and Hamul. The text says only — and says it of them alone — that the sons of Perez "were" Hezron and Hamul. It does not say they were born in Canaan, where the men they replaced had died. There was a weighty reason for picking out these two grandsons of Judah, when no other great-grandson of Jacob appears in the list. They alone stood in the place of others, as the verse itself implies, and one of them, Hezron, stands in the direct line of the Messiah.
Er and Onan died under God's hand, in events told earlier in Judah's story.
Three sons were born to Shuah, the first one killed by the Lord because of wickedness. The second, Onan, agreed to take the widow of Er as his wife to have a child that would officially be his brother's. But he did not carry out his agreement honourably, and the Lord considered this serious enough to kill him also. The reason was his complete selfishness, for the child would not officially be his, though in fact it would. These two cases illustrate the degrading history of the tribe of Judah. Shelah, the youngest son, may mean "sprout," and points to at least a preserved remnant that promises a miraculous revival for the nation Israel.
The two dead sons are mentioned precisely so the count cannot be misread.
If we turn to Genesis 46, we find a complete list of those who made up the sixty-six and went with Jacob into Egypt. The account is so accurate that two who had died are named only to show that they were not in the list.
Such careful bookkeeping says something about the One keeping the books.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house — "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, "sixty-six" without them... Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The line of Judah runs on through Tamar's twin sons.
Shelah is fruitful, but Tamar's seed much more so. From that seed comes Perez, the "breaker forth," who breaks out into abundant fruit that fills all the later history of Judah. From this line come Judah's kings, and her great King. Twin with Perez comes Zerah, or the sunrise, and from him come singers and warriors later on, stout defenders of the throne.
Long afterwards, Israel's elders wished that same house on Boaz as the pattern of blessing.
Is it not remarkable that this record should begin with Perez? That the elders and the people should take the house of Perez as a pattern of blessing for the house of Boaz? "May your house be like the house of Perez." Who was Perez? Let Genesis 38 answer. Why not begin with his father, Judah?... God led His line of promise through the base things of the world, and took up those whom man would spurn. This was to magnify His grace and exalt His name.
- Genealogy — the verse gives Judah's family, not just his travel companions. That is why two dead sons appear here.
- Judgment — Er and Onan left a gap in the family. God struck both down in Canaan for wickedness.
- "Were" — one word marks the repair. Perez's sons "were" Hezron and Hamul: two grandsons filling the gap, not two more travellers.
- Register — God counts one small household name by name. He records what men count small.
- Grace — Perez, born of Judah's shame, fills the gap and carries the promise: Judah's kings, her great King, and through Hezron the line of the Messiah.
-- And the sons of Issachar Tola, and Puah, and Job, and Shimron.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
-- And the sons of Zebulun Sered, and Elon, and Jahleel.
One line in a long register: Zebulun, a son of Leah, brings three sons with him into Egypt. The names are unfamiliar. Yet they sit in a list that carried a family of seventy to the edge of becoming a nation.
The chapter does not just count heads. It names them.
We are now told the names of all the household of Jacob who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in people, not only in nations or large groups. The total was 66 persons (v. 26), plus Joseph and his two sons. Jacob himself is the seventieth.
One writer calls the list God's own register, and notes what kind of thing God chose to record.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house. The time was near when they would exchange the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The Bible records nothing that Sered, Elon and Jahleel did. Each name survives in the family that came from it, named again in Numbers 26.
Sered. Firstborn of Zebulun, and ancestor of the Sardites. Gen. 46:14; Num. 26:26.
Jahleel. Son of Zebulun, and his descendants. Gen. 46:14; Num. 26:26.
Three men in one verse; three families in the nation.
Set beside what Israel later became, the small total does its work.
On the whole the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is to give Jacob's family. There is also the saying, "Your fathers went down to Egypt seventy persons in all, and now the LORD your God has made you as numerous as the stars of heaven." It takes up the general fact to show the marvellous increase.
Commentators also note that the growth happened under pressure, not in comfort:
So the huge increase during the stay in Egypt became all the more striking. It came despite the cruel and murderous oppression that marked its later part.
Compare the count in Genesis 46 with the count Stephen used, and you meet three totals — 66, 70, 75. Writers treat the difference as careful bookkeeping, not contradiction.
If we turn to Genesis 46, we find a complete list of those who made up the sixty-six who went with Jacob into Egypt. The account is so accurate that it names two who had died, only to show they were not in the list. The next verse tells us that "all the persons of the house of Jacob who came into Egypt were seventy." This is the second list. How is it worked out? Because Joseph and his two sons, who were born to him in Egypt, were there already. If we look at the beginning of Exodus 1, we again find the list spoken of as seventy. In strict agreement with Genesis 46:27, it adds that "Joseph was already in Egypt."
The number 75 comes from the Greek translation Stephen quoted:
The Septuagint translators, in their Greek version which Stephen quotes, include five more, though born in Egypt, following the well understood custom of treating parent and children as one.
Zebulun's own name came from his mother, Leah. Her words are given here in an older wording; the ESV reads, "now my husband will honor me."
She called him Zebulun (dwelling), saying, "This time my husband will dwell with me." The spiritual thought connected with Zebulun is dwelling in the relationship God has given us to Himself. That is the only true thought of consecration.
The name turns up again later, on the land Zebulun's family gave it to.
Zebulun should have been the dweller in relationship. Instead he had long since fulfilled Jacob's prophecy, and his "dwelling at the haven of the sea" had become the picture of Israel as a whole. Israel gave up its dwelling alone to mix in unfaithful trade with the nations… But the Saviour of sinners is not stopped by this. There in the darkness was the very place for light to spring up. And now there had come to Zebulun a Dweller, in whom God Himself could dwell with man.
- Named. God lists names, not just totals. He is interested in people, not only in nations.
- Small. Scripture records what is small in man's eyes. Nature prizes what looks great to the world.
- Multiplied. Seventy people went down. The LORD made them as many as the stars of heaven, and they grew despite cruel oppression.
- Accurate. The 66 / 70 / 75 figures differ by what each list is counting, not by error — Joseph and his sons were in Egypt already.
- Dwelling. Zebulun means "dwelling." To the land that bore his name came a Dweller, in whom God Himself could dwell with man.
-- These are the sons of Leah, whom she bore to Jacob in Padan-Aram; and his daughter, Dinah. All the souls of his sons and his daughters were thirty-three.
This line closes Leah's part of the family list as Jacob's household goes down to Egypt. Two things stand out. A daughter appears in a list of sons, and the total does not match the number of names given.
The order of names here is not the order of birth. The list groups the sons under their mothers, and one writer finds both God's hand and the mothers' own choices in that arrangement:
We find the order of nature again here, but according to the wives. God has the upper hand in all that concerns the family of promise, but at the same time Leah and Rachel each reap the fruits of their own self-will. The order is as follows: 6 sons of Leah, 2 sons of Zilpah, 2 sons of Rachel, 2 sons of Bilhah.
Leah bore these sons in Paddan-aram. That was not a place in Canaan but the family's older home:
A farmed district in Mesopotamia. The city of Nahor stood there. Terah and his family moved there from Ur of the Chaldees. From there came Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel, the wives of Isaac and Jacob. It is strictly Paddan-aram, meaning 'table land of Aram.'
Dinah is the only daughter named here. Her story brought violence and shame on the family, and the record does not hide it:
Daughter of Jacob and Leah. Shechem, son of the chieftain Hamor, defiled her. That led to the massacre of the people of Shechem through the craftiness and cruelty of Simeon and Levi.
Some translations read "all the souls of his sons and his daughters." The ESV counts his sons and daughters as thirty-three. The older wording is exact. In Scripture the word "soul" carries the sense of the living person:
In Scripture "mortal" is never said of the soul, but of the body. "The soul that sins shall die" has a quite different force. It means the person, the living human being, because the individuality lies in the soul. This led to such common phrases as "all the souls," and so on, in Genesis 46:15, 18, 22, 25, 26, 27.
Count the names in Leah's section and you reach thirty-two, not thirty-three. One explanation takes Jacob himself as included in his own house:
This table lists 32 of Leah, 16 of Zilpah, 11 of Rachel, 7 of Bilhah = 66. But the head also goes with his house. So in the larger list of Leah's children we see Jacob counted (verse 8). The 33 given to Leah confirms this, since the names come to no more than 32. That counts Dinah, and leaves out Er and Onan, who died in Canaan, as Scripture plainly tells us.
The sum can be worked another way. One set of notes gives two reckonings:
Dinah is not reckoned in the thirty-three; Er and Onan are.
Dinah is reckoned; Er and Onan are not — they were dead.
The rough edges in these lists are part of the plan, and they argue for the record's truth:
The differences in form between Genesis, Numbers and Chronicles come from the reason for placing each list where it stands. The difficulties spring from the design, in no way from error in the writer, but in fact from ignorance in readers who misunderstand them. Both the differences and the difficulties are the strongest evidence of their truth and inspired character. Nothing would have been easier than to make the various forms match and remove whatever sounds strange to western ears.
These names survive because God Himself kept the record:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house... The time was approaching when they would exchange the life of one family — already enlarged in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people... Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
- Named. Dinah's story brought shame on the family, yet God's list names her beside her brothers.
- Placed. The list groups the sons under their mothers, Leah's six first. Their birthplace, Paddan-aram, was the family's older home in Mesopotamia.
- Counted. "Souls" means living people. The total of thirty-three only works out by careful reckoning, and commentators do that reckoning in more than one way.
- Kept. The very difficulties argue for the record's truth. A forger would have smoothed them away.
- Grown. This is God's register of a family about to become a people. He takes an interest in recording what looks small to everyone else.
And the sons of Gad Ziphion and Haggi, Shuni and Ezbon, Eri, and Arodi, and Areli.
Genesis 46:16 sits inside the roll call of Jacob's household as it left Canaan for Egypt. It names the seven sons of Gad. Why would God keep such a record? And what became of these seven names?
This list is not stray family paperwork. What God chose to write down tells us what He values:
This is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls counting Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" without them… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are small in man's eyes. Human nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
These seven men do nothing else in the Bible. God names them anyway:
Now we learn the names of everyone in Jacob's household who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in each person, not only in nations or great companies.
Gad's own record in Scripture is thin, and this verse is a large part of it:
The seventh son of Jacob, and the first of Zilpah, Leah's maid. Very little is recorded of Gad, except that he had seven sons.
His name also shapes a prophecy about him:
His name means "a troop." The prophecy uses that same word: a troop (armies of enemy nations) would trample Gad (representing Israel) underfoot… but Gad will in the end overcome the troop.
These sons became the heads of clans. Israel's later count names those clans again:
…they are listed here as the heads of future families. The list in Numbers 26 confirms this. It names the separate families of the tribes of Israel on the day when Moses and Eleazar received the order to count the whole assembly of Israel's sons from twenty years old and upward… So the huge increase during their stay in Egypt stands out all the more, in spite of the cruel and murderous oppression that marked its later part.
The list also marks a turning point. A household was about to become a nation:
The time was near when they would leave the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus.
Anyone comparing this verse with Numbers 26 will notice the names do not match exactly. One of Gad's sons appears there under another name:
Son of Gad and his descendants. Num. 26:16. Called EZBON in Gen. 46:16.
Such differences are normal in these records, not mistakes:
There are cases, common among the Jews, where a person had more than one name (see, for example, these well-known names: Benjamin and Benoni, Reuel and Jethro, Solomon and Jedidiah, etc.).
The rough edges in these lists are a mark of honesty. Someone inventing a family tree would have smoothed them out:
If we truly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we must read the genealogies by their own aim, not by modern ideas. And anyone can see that they contain difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left them there; he would have taken great care to avoid them. The writer, on the other hand, knows details that we may not, and he simply states what he knows to be true.
The aim here is the family as a whole, not a birth-by-birth census:
On the whole, the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is clearly to give Jacob's family. So it mentions some who did not go down to Egypt… The saying, "Your fathers went down to Egypt seventy persons, and now the LORD your God has made you as numerous as the stars of heaven," takes up the general fact to show the amazing increase.
Kelly explains why one ancient version gives a different total:
The Greek version quoted by Stephen speaks of seventy-five, because it adds Manasseh's son Machir and grandson Gilead, and Ephraim's two sons, Shuthelah and Tahan, with Shuthelah's son, Eran or Edom.
- Register. The list is God's own record of Jacob's house, and He takes interest in what people count as small.
- Individual. God names men who are otherwise unknown, showing His concern for persons and not only for nations.
- Gad. Seventh son of Jacob, first son of Zilpah, and known mainly for these seven sons; his name means "a troop."
- Families. The seven names stand as heads of future clans, and their reappearance in Numbers 26 measures the growth from a household to a people.
- Honest. Ezbon is called Ozni later, because double names were normal. No forger would have left such difficulties standing.
-- And the sons of Asher Jimnah, and Jishvah, and Jishvi, and Beriah; and Serah their sister; and the sons of Beriah Heber and Malchiel.
This verse sits inside the long register of Jacob's household on its way to Egypt. It names Asher's four sons, his daughter Serah, and two of his grandsons. That raises a plain question: why does God stop to write down names this small?
The names in this list turn up again in Numbers and 1 Chronicles, often looking different in English. The difference is in the translation, not in the text:
The firstborn of Asher, 1 Chronicles 7:30. He is called JIMNAH in Genesis 46:17 in the Authorised Version, and JIMNA in Numbers 26:41. Yet the Hebrew is the same in all three passages.
Asher's daughter appears here among the sons. The entry under her other spelling, Sarah, points straight back to this verse:
Daughter of Asher, Numbers 26:46. Called SERAH in Genesis 46:17 and 1 Chronicles 7:30.
Lists of names are where many readers stumble, and where critics look for errors. One writer argues that the rough edges are themselves a mark of honesty:
If we truly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we need to read the genealogies by their own aim, not by modern ideas. The difficulties are plain on the surface. No forger or compiler would have left them there; he would have taken care to avoid them. The writer, on the other hand, knew details that we might not. He states what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear the difficulties up.
The list puts Asher and Gad after Leah's six sons and before Rachel's and Bilhah's. It groups the sons by their mothers. One writer sees two things at work in that order:
Here we find the order of nature again, but according to the wives. God has the upper hand in all that concerns the family of promise. At the same time, Leah and Rachel each reap the fruits of their own self-will. The order is as follows: six sons of Leah, two sons of Zilpah, two sons of Rachel, two sons of Bilhah.
Asher came from Zilpah, a branch of the family that grew out of that self-will. Yet the count in this chapter gives Zilpah's sixteen the same place as Leah's thirty-two:
This table lists thirty-two from Leah, sixteen from Zilpah, eleven from Rachel, seven from Bilhah — sixty-six. But the head also goes with his house; and so with the larger list of Leah's children we see Jacob counted.
Nothing here is impressive by the world's measure. That is part of the point:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, or "sixty-six" without these. The time was drawing near when they would exchange the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Another writer points to the names themselves, rather than a bare total:
We are told now the names of all the household of Jacob who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in each person, and not only in nations or great companies.
This verse names Heber and Malchiel as grandsons of Asher. One of them gives his name to a family in Israel:
Son of Beriah, a son of Asher, and head of the family of the HEBERITES, Genesis 46:17; Numbers 26:45; 1 Chronicles 7:31-32.
Asher's own name carries a promise that reaches far past this list:
Asher was Zilpah's second son, his name meaning "happy." The prophecy about him points to the rich provision God will make for the nation Israel — even "royal delicacies" — when He restores them to their land in the millennium. What a wonderful contrast to their years of want and ruin!
- Register. The list is God's own record of Jacob's house. He takes care over what people count as small.
- Named. God lists names, not just a total. His interest reaches each person, not only nations and large companies.
- Counted. Zilpah's sixteen stand in the same register as Leah's thirty-two. A line that grew out of self-will is counted with the rest.
- Preserved. Spellings shift between Genesis, Numbers and Chronicles. The Hebrew behind them is the same: Jimnah is Imnah, Serah is Sarah.
- Fruitful. Beriah's son Heber heads a family in Israel, and Asher — whose name means "happy" — has a promise of rich provision in the land.
-- These are the sons of Zilpah, whom Laban gave to Leah his daughter; and she bore these to Jacob sixteen souls.
Genesis 46 lists the family Jacob brought down into Egypt, mother by mother, and verse 18 closes Zilpah's part of the list. She was a servant Laban gave to Leah, so why do her sons count inside the promise, and why the careful total of sixteen?
Jacob had four wives, because his two wives each handed him their servant. That raises an obvious question about the children:
Jacob's two wives gave their handmaids to their husband, and so he had four wives. God reckoned the twelve sons of these four women equally as sons of Jacob, and they became the heads of the twelve tribes. It might have been thought that God would not have blessed the children of such unions, but He did.
When Scripture lists the twelve sons again, the order itself says something:
The names of Jacob's sons — Jacob is also called Israel — are listed, but not in birth order. The aim, I think, is to present them all to us without distinction, as objects of God's purposes in grace. So we find Leah's children first. Then come Rachel's children, listed between Dan and Naphtali, the sons of Bilhah. Last come Gad and Asher, the sons of Zilpah, Leah's servant.
Earlier in Genesis, God shut a servant woman's son out of the inheritance. Here the outcome is different:
It is also remarkable that the sons of the servant women do not take a separate or inferior place here. Unlike Ishmael in the story of Abraham, they are blessed together with the other sons of Jacob. Of Ishmael God said that the son of the servant woman should by no means be an heir with the son of the free woman. Jacob's twelve sons give a complete picture of God's earthly people. They are blessed together in keeping with God's government, because in Scripture the number twelve is always connected with God's rule over His people.
The sixteen here is one line of a larger sum. One commentator adds up the whole list:
This table lists 32 of Leah, 16 of Zilpah, 11 of Rachel, 7 of Bilhah = 66. But the head of the house is counted with his house. So Jacob himself appears in the larger list of Leah's children (verse 8). The total of 33 given for Leah confirms it, since the text names only 32. That count includes Dinah and leaves out Er and Onan, who died in Canaan, as Scripture tells us plainly.
Behind the arithmetic lies a reason for keeping such a list at all:
The listing of the family is moving at this point in the patriarchal story. No human being shall boast. Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names. He does it early and late in the Old Testament, and at last in the final book of the New Testament — though with instructive variations.
Leah named both of Zilpah's sons, and the meanings show what she was still after:
When Leah had no more children, she used the same tactics as Rachel had. She gave her servant Zilpah to Jacob. Zilpah bore him a son, whom Leah named Gad, and then another, whom she named Asher. Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." So we find human support (a troop), and we try to make ourselves happy as we are, without reaching the state we want. But Leah is not satisfied with this.
Both names point beyond Leah's household to what these tribes will meet:
Gad is overcome by a troop, but overcomes at last. The prophet Daniel tells us about the final massing of troops against Israel. But God will bring His earthly people out of that trouble. Then Asher is blessed with abundance and good cheer.
The totals in this chapter are small. One writer sets them against what came next:
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation had a small beginning in the seventy souls who came into Egypt with Jacob. Set that against their remarkable and unstoppable increase. God had already told them about the slavery they were entering. What seemed most against them was really the working out of the promise for them.
- Counted in. Zilpah was Leah's servant, given away by Laban. Yet God reckoned her sons as sons of Jacob and made them heads of tribes.
- Counted by grace. The later lists scramble the birth order on purpose. All the sons stand without distinction as objects of God's purposes in grace.
- Counted, not cast out. Ishmael, a servant's son, could not be heir with the son of the free woman. These sons are blessed along with the rest.
- Counted by name. Sixteen of the sixty-six belong to Zilpah's line. No one can boast in such a list, yet God takes pleasure in recording every name.
- Counted for the future. Gad means "a troop" and Asher means "happy." Gad overcomes at last, Asher is blessed with abundance, and the seventy souls become a nation.
The sons of Rachel Jacob's wife Joseph and Benjamin.
The list of those who went down to Egypt moves family by family. Now it reaches Rachel: two names only, and one of them was already in Egypt. Why is she the one mother here called Jacob's wife? And why do her two sons carry so much weight?
A list of names invites two mistakes: skipping it, or picking at its puzzles. One writer says we should read such a list by its own aim, and that its difficulties are a mark of honesty.
If we honestly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we must read the genealogies by their aim, and not by modern ideas. Clearly they contain difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left those in. He would have taken every care to avoid them. The writer, though, knew details that we may not. He simply states what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear the difficulties up.
Leah, Zilpah and Bilhah all appear in this chapter, but the title of wife belongs to Rachel alone. One writer traces what that title cost her.
It appears that Rachel was the first wife Jacob loved, but in fact the last to enjoy the relationship and to bear its fruits. Those fruits were Joseph, rejected by his brothers and exalted in another sphere over Gentiles, and Benjamin, his mother's sorrow but son of his father's right hand. Leah before this is the mother of many sons, as there are before Israel comes into full and happy view.
Joseph and Benjamin were not just two of twelve half-brothers. They were Rachel's only children. One writer finds meaning in that, and in the two names her younger son carried.
Surely it is not for nothing that Joseph and Benjamin were full brothers, both of them Rachel's children and her only ones. This makes the link between the parts of the type that finally come together all the stronger. For Benjamin is no longer the "son of my sorrow," the name his dying mother sadly gave him. That sorrow was fully realised in Joseph's story. Now at last he is linked with Joseph in Joseph's own character: God's chosen man, the man of His right hand. This "son of the right hand" is, as we know, the meaning of the name Benjamin.
One writer reads the two brothers as two sides of one Person. The order between them is the point.
Joseph is, as we know, Christ once rejected and suffering, now exalted: this is the One whom Israel does not know. The Benjamin found among them is a Christ simply triumphant and reigning on earth. That holds both in the days of the Lord's rejection and in the last days. The conqueror they were ready for; the Sufferer — not knowing their own deep need — they have refused. Yet the two are really one. Even Benjamin was first Benoni. For them the Conqueror cannot come until they receive the Sufferer... Power lies with Joseph, not with Benjamin.
Rachel's two sons come third here, because the list groups the sons by their mothers rather than by age. One writer reads that arrangement as showing both God's hand and the women's own choices.
We find the order of nature again here, but according to the wives. God has the upper hand in all that concerns the family of promise, but at the same time Leah and Rachel each reap the fruits of their own self-will. The order is this: six sons of Leah, two sons of Zilpah, two sons of Rachel, two sons of Bilhah.
Joseph and Benjamin are counted into a wider total, and the totals in the records differ. One writer sets out the numbers and explains why.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house: seventy souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; sixty-six without them. The Greek version quoted by Stephen speaks of seventy-five, because it adds Manasseh's son Machir and grandson Gilead, and Ephraim's two sons, Shuthelah and Tahan... The time was approaching when they would exchange the life of a family for that of a people. In Genesis that family had already grown into twelve families. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
- Wife. Only Rachel carries the title of Jacob's wife here: loved first, fruitful last.
- Names. Benoni, "son of my sorrow," gave way to Benjamin, "son of the right hand" — sorrow turned into honour.
- Pair. Joseph and Benjamin were full brothers, and that bond ties the two halves of the picture together.
- Order. The Sufferer comes first. Israel must receive the rejected One before the reigning One can come.
- Register. Seventy souls in all — God keeps a careful record of what the world counts too small to write down.
And to Joseph in the land of Egypt were born Manasseh and Ephraim, whom Asnath bore to him, the daughter of Potipherah the priest in On.
In the register of everyone who came into Egypt with Jacob, two names stand out: Joseph's sons were not born in Canaan, and their mother was not an Israelite. Their place in the list raises a question: how do children of Egypt belong in the house of Israel?
Commentators treat this list as God's own count, and point out how the numbers work.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house, "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, "sixty-six" without these… The time was coming when they would stop living as a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — and live as a people… Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The verse names the mother by her own name and by her father's job. Both mark her as Egyptian.
Asenath is the Gentile, the stranger to the promises of Israel. She gives a picture of the church as the bride that has come from among the Gentile nations and not from Israel exclusively.
Her father served at On. One writer describes that city:
On, or the city of the sun, Heliopolis, was the great seat of learning in Egypt and the place of its first college. Potipherah, the prince-priest of the sun and the father of Joseph's wife, lived there in earlier days… On, as its name implies, was devoted to the sun, and so to its worship.
Joseph chose both names. Each one records something God had done for him.
During the seven years of plenty Asenath bore Joseph two sons. He named the first Manasseh, which means "forgetting," for, as he says, "God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father's house." This is typical of the truth of Christianity: it makes us forget the first creation with its natural relationships and its wearing trials. But this is because it brought in something better, the new creation, of which Christ is the Head. This is involved in the name of Joseph's second son, Ephraim, which means "fruitful," for only in new creation is there true fruitfulness for God. Manasseh therefore implies the negative side of the truth, Ephraim the positive.
Forgetting is not numbness. It is what happens when the heart finds something better:
No one can truly say that he forgets "his father's house" until his heart has found a treasure in a brighter scene. Then the place where he lives in body becomes a land of exile to him. Yet he has no desire to return to the past — he forgets it.
These sons arrive while Joseph is still cut off from his family. Writers see a picture of Christ and the church in that timing.
Born before the famine, and while Joseph's brothers are still strangers to his exaltation, he named the second son Ephraim, "For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction." Here, clearly, is our place and relationship with our blessed Lord… For His Church, His heavenly bride, He has been content to be as if He did not remember His relationship with His people of old. The thread of prophecy lies unwoven on the shuttle of time, as if its wheel had stopped forever. What does this forgetfulness mean in Him who neither slumbers nor sleeps? Surely no change, but the carrying out of eternal purposes.
By law these two boys had no claim on Abraham's family. Jacob settles the matter himself.
He then adopts the sons of Joseph; for this was needed to give them the rights of children, since, in a very real legal sense, they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would in its day have put away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family… He makes them part of the seed of Abraham and children of Jacob. Once that is done, Jacob at once sets them in the place of the firstborn.
That adoption explains why Joseph's line appears on the map of Israel under two names:
We can see why Joseph had two sons and only two — so that he might have the double portion of the firstborn. So in the dividing of territory, each of Israel's sons (Levi excluded for obvious reasons) had a single portion — one tribe each. Joseph had the double portion: two tribes, Ephraim and Manasseh.
- Counted. God keeps the register Himself: seventy souls, and Joseph's two Egypt-born sons are in the count. A family is about to become a people.
- Foreign. Their mother Asenath was a stranger to the promises of Israel — the daughter of a priest of On, the city of the sun.
- Named. Manasseh means "forgetting," Ephraim "fruitful." The negative side comes first, then the positive. We forget only when we find something better.
- Timed. Both sons were born while Joseph's brothers still knew nothing of his rise. Writers see in that the present time of the church, while the thread of prophecy lies still.
- Adopted. The law counted them strangers to Abraham. Jacob made them his own sons and gave them the firstborn's double portion: two tribes instead of one.
-- And the sons of Benjamin Belah, and Becher, and Ashbel, Gera and Naaman, Ehi and Rosh, Muppim, and Huppim, and Ard.
This verse lists ten sons for Benjamin — Jacob's youngest, still called a "lad" a few chapters earlier — inside the register of the household going down to Egypt. That raises two questions: how could so young a man have so large a family, and why does God record ten obscure names at all?
One writer reads the difficulties in such lists as a mark of honesty, not error.
If we truly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture, we must read the genealogies by their own aim, and not by modern ideas. On their face they plainly present difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left such things standing; he would have taken every care to avoid them. The writer, on the other hand, knew details that we may not. He simply states what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear the difficulties up.
One writer works out the highest age Benjamin could have reached when the family went down to Egypt.
Benjamin could only have been two or three years old when Joseph went down… We must add twenty-two years for the gap between Joseph's going down and Jacob's. So Benjamin was at most twenty-four or twenty-five. That is why he is called a "lad" (nahar) in chapter 43:3, a "little one" (katan) in chapter 44:20, and a "lad" (nahar) again in verse 31. Even if we allow the fullest possible age of twenty-five — which those three words make very unlikely — it is very hard to believe that ten sons had been born to him.
Commentators answer this in more than one way. One answer: these names stand in the list for what these men would later become.
The fact is that the sons of Jacob were even fewer than a modern census would count. The principle stated in Hebrews 7:9-10 seems to have been applied here to Judah's descendants, and to Benjamin's as well, as we may gather from the earlier history. They are put in the list as the heads of future families. The list in Numbers 26 of the separate families of the tribes of Israel confirms it… This is a solution suggested by men who know such genealogies well, and it is only one of several. It was no mistake. It was deliberate, however far it lies outside ordinary thinking.
The chapter's aim decides who belongs in the list. It names some men who never made the journey.
On the whole the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is plainly to give Jacob's family. So it mentions some who did not go down to Egypt, and it brings Hezron and Hamul into an earlier verse on purpose — not with the list of sons, but as belonging with them. The words, "Your fathers went down into Egypt with seventy persons, and now the LORD your God has made you as the stars of heaven for multitude," take up the general fact to show the remarkable increase.
Two of the ten names are worth a pause. The second, Becher, carries a meaning of its own.
A son of Benjamin, perhaps his second son, but the first-born of one of his wives. The name means 'first-born.' Gen. 46:21; 1 Chr. 7:6, 8.
Ehi may also turn up later under other spellings, which is why later lists do not always match this one word for word.
A son of Benjamin. Gen. 46:21. Perhaps the same person as AHIRAM in Num. 26:38, and AHARAH in 1 Chr. 8:1.
Scripture says little about Benjamin himself. His two names carry more than his own story.
The youngest son of Jacob by his beloved wife Rachel. She died when he was born. She named him BEN-ONI, meaning 'son of my sorrow,' but his father named him BENJAMIN, 'son of the right hand.' Gen. 35:18, 24. He is a picture of Christ in both names: exalted at God's right hand (Benjamin), and, as rejected, the cause of Israel's suffering in the last days (Ben-oni)… Scripture records very little about Benjamin himself: he was the father of ten sons.
Ten names in one verse belong to a household of seventy, and their smallness is the point.
The time was near when they would exchange the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that look small in man's eyes. Human nature glories in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
- Aim first. Read the list by its own purpose, not by modern census rules. The difficulties left standing are what no forger would have allowed.
- Family, not passenger list. The chapter gives Jacob's household as a household. That is why men who never travelled are counted in.
- Heads, not just heirs. Benjamin's ten stand as heads of the families later counted in Numbers 26 — one suggested answer among several.
- Small on purpose. God records what men would call trivial, because seventy souls are about to become a nation.
- Names that point past him. Son of sorrow to his mother, son of the right hand to his father — Benjamin's own names picture Christ.
-- These are the sons of Rachel who were born to Jacob all the souls were fourteen.
Genesis 46 ends its list of Jacob's household with the line of Rachel, the wife Jacob loved and lost. Her share of the count is fourteen, and two of them — Joseph's sons — had never set foot in Canaan. So how does God count a family, and why keep these names at all?
This list is God's own record of a household that is about to become a nation.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls when you count Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" when you leave these out… The time was coming when they would trade the life of a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — for the life of a people… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are small in the eyes of men. Human nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The register keeps names, not just a number.
Now we are told the names of everyone in Jacob's household who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in people, not only in nations or great companies. The total was 66 persons (v. 26), plus Joseph and his two sons. Jacob himself is the seventieth.
Manasseh and Ephraim were born in Egypt, yet the fourteen take them in. Commentators explain this from the way Scripture counts a father and his children as one. The same rule lies behind the larger number Stephen quotes from the Greek Old Testament.
The question is not really one of truth, but of purpose and way of speaking. The original history speaks of 66 (v. 26) and of 70 (v. 27). Even in verse 26 the Hebrew means "belong to" rather than "with Jacob." The 70 are his house, and that takes in more people. The Septuagint translators, in their Greek version, which Stephen quotes, include five more, though those five were born in Egypt. They follow this well-known way of counting parent and children as one.
The names Joseph gave his two sons say what he felt. One writer sets them beside the names Moses gave his own sons.
Manasseh means "causing to forget," and Ephraim means "fruitfulnesses." They express their father's feelings while he was so remarkably raised up outside Israel, for blessing. The names Moses gave his sons do not express any forgetting of his brothers. They express his sense of being a stranger, separated from them, and of counting on "God my help." Both meet in perfection in our Lord Jesus.
Benjamin himself is almost silent in the story. What he brings to this count is his family and his name. He and his ten sons, with Joseph and Joseph's two sons, make up Rachel's fourteen.
The youngest son of Jacob by his beloved wife Rachel. She died at his birth and named him BEN-ONI, which means "son of my sorrow." But his father named him BENJAMIN, "son of the right hand." Gen. 35:18, 24. Scripture tells us very little about Benjamin himself: he was the father of ten sons. Gen. 46:21.
Commentators read Rachel's two sons together, and see two sides of Christ.
Joseph's brothers had rejected him, a picture of Israel's rejection of the Lord Jesus. Joseph is therefore a type of Christ in suffering before exaltation. Benjamin ("son of the right hand") is a type of Christ, the Messiah, reigning in glory.
One writer presses further: the two were full brothers, Rachel's only children, and that is part of the design.
It is surely not for nothing that Joseph and Benjamin were full brothers, both of them Rachel's children and her only ones. This makes the link stronger between the two parts of the picture, which come together in the end. For Benjamin is no longer the "son of my sorrow," the name his dying mother sadly gave him… Now at last he is joined to Joseph in Joseph's character as a picture of God's chosen man, the man of His right hand.
Seventy people go down into Egypt, and that is only the start.
We are given a list of sons and grandsons, and told that their number was 70. Turn to Exodus 12:37, and we shall see how greatly they grew while they were in Egypt, and how God kept His word to make them a great nation.
- Register. The count is God's own record of His people. He takes an interest in what men think small.
- People. God writes down names, not just totals. He cares about persons, not only nations and large companies.
- Reckoning. Scripture counts a parent and his children as one. So Joseph's sons, born in Egypt, belong in the fourteen, and both 66 and 70 stand.
- Names. Manasseh means "causing to forget," Ephraim "fruitfulnesses," Benjamin "son of the right hand," once Ben-oni, "son of my sorrow."
- Nation. Rachel's two sons give a double picture of Christ: suffering first, then reigning. And the fourteen of this day grow into the nation God promised.
And the sons of Dan Hushim.
One line in Jacob's family register gives Dan a single son, Hushim, as the household goes down into Egypt. It is the shortest entry in the list. Yet the tribe that grew from it became one of the largest and most troubled in Israel.
Scripture tells us little about Dan himself. Yet this one son stands at the head of a tribe that grew huge, and then stumbled early:
Dan was the fifth son of Jacob, and the first son of Bilhah, Rachel's servant (Gen. 30:6, etc.). Scripture records little about him: Genesis 46:23 names only one son. The tribe of Dan, however, grew large. At the Exodus it had 62,700 fighting men, more than every tribe except Judah, and at the second census the number had risen to 64,400. Yet once they were in the land, the Amorites forced the children of Dan into the hills and would not let them come down to the valley (Judges 1:34). This showed a great lack of faith in the Danites, and Deborah in her song asked why Dan stayed with the ships while the Lord's enemies were being destroyed.
The ESV has "son" here, while older translations read "the sons of Dan" — a plural over a single name. One explanation takes that plural as tribal, and links Hushim with a name that appears later in a slightly different form:
Sons of Dan (as if the name pointed to a tribe). Genesis 46:23. Perhaps the same as Shuham in Numbers 26:42.
Lists like this one are easy to skip. But the count is God's own, and He values what looks small to us:
This is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls counting Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" without them… The time was coming when they would exchange the life of a family for the life of a people. Genesis had already enlarged that family into twelve families, and their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus, the second book of the Bible. Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Hushim is not a statistic. God had every name in Jacob's household written down:
Now we learn the names of all the household of Jacob who came with him. This shows that our great God cares about each person, not only about nations or great companies.
His name carries a meaning, and that meaning shaped what his tribe stood for:
Judah stands for the truth, which is the basis of all government among the people of God. In the same way, Dan stands for carrying that government out. Dan means judge, and he stands for that in Jacob's prophecy. Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel.
The line that starts here with one son ends up with a sobering record:
This tribe was guilty of setting up idolatry in the land very early, and it lasted until the people were carried away into captivity (Judges 18:30-31). Jacob pictured Dan as an adder in the path that bites the horse's heels, and one naturally links that adder with the serpent that would bruise the heel of the woman's seed (Gen. 3:15). It seems to suggest that the Antichrist will arise out of the tribe of Dan, and this indeed has been the judgement of Christians from the earliest times. The absence of Dan's name confirms this thought. He is left out of 1 Chronicles 2 – 8, the book that records much of grace and blessing, and out of the list of tribes from which twelve thousand each will be sealed in a future day (Rev. 7:3-8). Still God will keep His promises to the twelve tribes, and the tribe of Dan will have its portion in the land as prophesied in Ezekiel 48:1-2, 32.
Yet failure does not cancel God's purpose:
However low the people of God may sink in failure, nothing sets His purposes aside. As the apostle Paul wrote to the believers at Rome, "the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable." So Dan's place in final blessing is sure, in the words, "Dan shall judge his people, as one of the tribes of Israel."
- Counted. Dan brings one son into Egypt, and that one name is written down. God cares about each person, not only about great companies.
- Named. Dan means judge, and the tribe stood for carrying out judgment among God's people.
- Grown. From this one son came 62,700 fighting men by the Exodus, second only to Judah.
- Failed. Dan was the tribe that first set up idolatry in the land, and Dan's name is missing from the sealed tribes of Revelation 7.
- Kept. God's gifts and calling are irrevocable. Dan still receives his portion in the land — the register God writes, He does not erase.
-- And the sons of Naphtali Jahzeel, and Guni, and Jezer, and Shillem.
Genesis 46 records the household that went down into Egypt. Verse 24 gives four names from one small branch of the family, and nothing more is said about them. So why does God write down men no one remembers?
These four names sit inside a larger count. One writer treats the whole list as a record book kept by God, and says why it exists:
It is God's register of Jacob and his house: "seventy" souls counting Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" without them… The time was near when they would exchange the life of a family for the life of a people. In Genesis that family had already grown into twelve families… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are small in man's eyes. Man's nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The same writer notes that this list falls at a humbling moment for the family, and God still records it:
The listing of the family is a moving sight at this point in the story of Jacob's house. No human being can boast. Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. Yet God takes pleasure in recording their names. He does it early and late in the Old Testament, and at last in the final book of the New Testament — but with variations that teach us something. For the Bible is not only God's word; it is a deeply moral book.
Lists like this hold puzzles. Numbers do not always add up, and the same man can be named one way here and another way elsewhere. One writer says to read them on their own terms:
If we truly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we must read the family lists by their own aim, not by modern ideas. On their face they plainly hold difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left them there; he would have taken great care to avoid them. The writer, on the other hand, knew details that we may not. He simply says what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear the difficulties up.
One of those variations touches this verse. Shillem, the fourth son, "is called Shallum in 1 Chronicles 7:13" (Morrish Bible Dictionary).
Naphtali was not born to Jacob's wives but to Bilhah, Rachel's servant. Yet the register has no second class. One writer sees purpose in the order of another list of the same twelve names:
At the start of this chapter the names of the sons of Jacob, called Israel, are listed — and not in order. The aim, I think, is to present them all to us, with no distinction, as objects of God's purposes in grace.
A list like this looks ahead. Some in it are entered as heads of families still to come:
Judah's offspring, and Benjamin's too, were inserted here as the heads of future families. We see this confirmed by the list in Numbers 26, which names the separate families of the tribes of Israel when Moses and Eleazar were told to count the whole assembly… So the huge increase during the stay in Egypt stood out all the more, despite the cruel and murderous oppression that marked its later part.
Their father got his name from a family struggle. Rachel named him, and the name records her fight with her sister:
Bilhah also had a second son, and Rachel named him Naphtali, meaning "my wrestling," because of her wrestling with her sister Leah. All this struggle pictures the struggle of Romans 7. Trying to put down the evil passions of our hearts by our own effort only stirs them up.
The name follows the tribe down the centuries, and it gets an answer. The struggler ends up sitting in darkness — and that is where the Saviour comes:
Now it was only "the way of the sea," as if swallowed up in its waters. Naphtali, the struggler, sat struggling no more, in darkness that was truly the "shadow of death." But this does not stop the Saviour of sinners. There in the darkness was the very place for light to spring up. Now a Dweller had come to Zebulun, One in whom God Himself could dwell with man. And to Naphtali had come more than a struggler — a glorious Conqueror, the woman's Seed.
- Named — this verse belongs to God's register of Jacob's house. Scripture shows the interest God took in recording what men count small.
- Kept — the list holds difficulties no forger would have left; read it by its own aim, not by modern ideas.
- Graced — Bilhah's sons were born to a servant, not a wife, yet the list makes no distinction: all are objects of God's purposes in grace.
- Multiplied — names in this list stand as heads of families still to come. The later count in Numbers 26 shows how far Israel grew in Egypt, despite cruel oppression.
- Lightened — the name Naphtali means "my wrestling"; where the struggler sat in darkness, light sprang up and a glorious Conqueror came.
-- These are the sons of Bilhah, whom Laban gave to Rachel his daughter; and she bore these to Jacob all the souls were seven.
This verse closes the smallest group in the list of Jacob's household going down into Egypt: Bilhah's two sons and their children, seven people. Why does Scripture count so carefully, and why do a servant's sons stand beside the sons of Jacob's wives?
One commentator reads this list as a count made by God Himself, taken as a household was about to become a nation.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house. There are "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons; "sixty-six" without these… The time was near when they would stop living as a family — already grown in Genesis into twelve families — and live as a people… Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
Seven out of seventy is a footnote by human reckoning. God writes the names down anyway.
We are told now the names of all the household of Jacob, who came with him, showing that our great God is interested in each person, not only in nations or great companies.
Rachel, not Bilhah, gave these two sons their names.
When a boy was born, Rachel said that God had given her a son. She named him Dan, meaning "judge." Bilhah had a second son too. Rachel named him Naphtali, meaning "my wrestling," because she was wrestling with her sister Leah.
So these names come out of a quarrel between sisters. Yet they stay in the list, and in the nation.
The names Rachel gave the sons of Bilhah expressed the state of her soul, and her attitude toward her sister. Dan and Naphtali do not speak of grace, but of satisfaction at winning points in a quarrel… But God has a prerogative of His own. Every wrong has its effect among men and its judgment before Him. Even so, He causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, the called according to purpose.
Bilhah was a servant, so people might expect her sons to hold a lower rank. One commentator, writing on a later list of these same names, sees no such difference.
At the start of this chapter the names of the sons of Jacob, called Israel, appear — and not in order. The aim, I think, is to present them all to us, without distinction, as objects of God's purposes in grace.
Another writer compares this with Abraham's household.
It is also remarkable that the sons of the maids do not take a separate or inferior place here. Unlike Ishmael in the story of Abraham, they are blessed together with the other sons of Jacob. God said of Ishmael that the son of the servant woman must never be an heir with the son of the free woman… Jacob's twelve sons give a complete picture of God's earthly people.
Dan brings one son, Hushim; Naphtali brings four.
Fifth son of Jacob, and first of Bilhah, Rachel's maid… Scripture records little about him: Genesis 46:23 names only one son. The tribe of Dan, however, grew large: at the exodus there were 62,700 fighting men, more than every tribe except Judah.
One commentator finds meaning even in the spelling of that one name, which appears later as Shuham.
The natural inference is that Shuham and Hushim are the same name, with the letters swapped around. But the swap itself must have a meaning. The earlier name means "hastening," while the later one means "depression, humiliation."
Seventy is the starting point, not the finish.
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation's small beginning lies in the seventy souls who came into Egypt with Jacob, set against their marvellous and unstoppable increase. Even the slavery they were heading into had already been promised to them. What seemed most against them was really the promise working out for them.
- Counted. The list is God's own register of a household about to become a nation. He writes down what men would call too small to write down.
- Named. Dan means "judge" and Naphtali "my wrestling" — names that came out of a rivalry between sisters, not out of faith.
- Kept. God overrules that wrong, causing all things to work together for good to those who love Him.
- Included. Bilhah was a servant, yet her seven carry no lower rank — unlike Ishmael, who got no share with the son of the free woman.
- Multiplied. Dan arrives with one son. His tribe leaves Egypt with 62,700 fighting men. The small beginning was the promise already at work.
All the souls that came with Jacob to Egypt, that had come out of his loins, besides Jacob's sons' wives all the souls were sixty-six.
The closing count of Jacob's household reads like dry bookkeeping. Yet God is registering one family just before it becomes a nation. The verse also raises a well-known puzzle. Scripture elsewhere gives the number as seventy, and Stephen's speech in Acts gives seventy-five.
Older versions read "souls" here where the ESV reads "persons." The word can mean the undying part of a man, but Scripture also uses it to count people one by one.
Soul is often used for the moral undying part of man's being. It is also used sometimes to mean the person: as in "all the souls that came with Jacob into Egypt," Gen. 46:26, and "eight souls" saved in the ark, 1 Peter 3:20.
Two totals sit side by side in this chapter: sixty-six here, seventy in the next verse. The wording of the verse itself explains the gap.
There is really no question of truth here, but of purpose and manner of speech. The original history speaks of 66 (v. 26) and 70 (v. 27). Even in verse 26 the Hebrew strictly means "belong to," rather than with Jacob. The 70 are his house, including more.
Three numbers are given for this move to Egypt. They are three different counts, not three rival claims. The largest comes from the Septuagint, the old Greek version of the Old Testament.
It is God's register of Jacob and his house. It gives "seventy" souls including Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, and "sixty-six" without these. The Septuagint quoted by Stephen speaks of seventy-five. That is because it adds Manasseh's son Machir and grandson Gilead, and Ephraim's two sons, Shuthelah and Tahan, with Shuthelah's son, Eran or Edom.
Writers differ on how fully the seventy-five can be broken down. One weighs who might belong in it, then leaves the rest alone. (Older versions render this verse's "his own descendants" as "came out of his loins.")
Notice, however, that in this count of seventy-five Joseph and his sons may not be included. If so, it leaves room for nine more of Jacob's "kindred." And kindred is certainly not the same thought as those who "came out of his loins." We do not offer any positive solution of the difficulty. Nor is it necessary to prove exactly how the list of seventy-five was made up. If we had been told that two of his sons' wives had died, it would be made clear, but we are not told, and must be silent.
The chapter is not careless. It takes trouble to show who is not in the total.
If we turn to Genesis 46, we find a complete list of those who made up the sixty-six and went with Jacob into Egypt. The account is so accurate that it names two men who had died, only to show that they were not in the list.
These lists leave their difficulties standing in the text. That tells us something about who wrote them.
If we honestly want to avoid serious mistakes and understand Scripture rightly, we must read the genealogies according to their aim. We must not read them by modern ideas. On the face of them they plainly present difficulties. No forger or compiler would have left such difficulties; he would have avoided them with all care. The writer, on the other hand, knew details that we might not. He simply states what he knows to be true, without stopping to clear them up.
That aim shapes what goes into this chapter's list.
On the whole the purpose of the statement in Genesis 46 is clearly to give Jacob's family. So some are mentioned who did not go down to Egypt... Take the saying, "Your fathers went down to Egypt seventy persons in all, and now the LORD your God has made you as numerous as the stars of heaven." It takes up the general fact to show the marvellous increase.
Each person is named, and God takes note of what looks trivial to men.
Scripture reveals the interest God took in recording things little in man's eyes. Nature revels in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
A nation starts here with a number small enough to write down.
Here we see grace in its first workings. A nation had a small beginning in the seventy souls that came into Egypt with Jacob. Set that against their remarkable and unstoppable increase. Even the bondage they come into had already been promised them. What seemed most against them was really the working out of promise for them.
- Souls counted. "Souls" in the older versions simply means people — sixty-six of them, each one on God's register.
- Souls belonging. The Hebrew means those who belonged to Jacob. So one move to Egypt can be counted as sixty-six, seventy, or seventy-five without contradiction.
- Souls recorded. The list leaves out the wives. It even names two sons who had died, to show they are not in the total.
- Souls read rightly. Read a genealogy for its aim, not by modern rules. The difficulties left in it are a mark of honesty, not error.
- Souls multiplied. Seventy people went down; a nation came out. Grace starts small, and God had promised even the slavery ahead.
And the sons of Joseph who were born to him in Egypt, were two souls. All the souls of the house of Jacob that came to Egypt were seventy.
Genesis 46 closes with a headcount: the whole house of Jacob that entered Egypt came to seventy. Why count such a small group, and why do the numbers 66, 70 and 75 all appear in the Bible for this one move into Egypt?
The chapter does not merely say "Jacob's family went down." It names them, one by one.
We are now told the names of all the household of Jacob, who came with him. This shows that our great God is interested in people, not only in nations or great companies. The total was 66 persons (v. 26), plus Joseph and his two sons. Jacob himself is the seventieth.
God kept this record Himself, and He kept it of something small.
This is God's register of Jacob and his house. Counting Jacob, and Joseph with his two sons, it gives "seventy" souls; without them, "sixty-six"... The time was approaching when they would exchange the life of a family for the life of a people. In Genesis that family had already grown into twelve families. Their growth is one of the opening facts of Exodus, the second book of the Bible. Scripture shows the interest God took in recording things that are little in man's eyes. Nature delights in what it counts great in its own eyes and before the world.
The old wording of this verse says "souls." Scripture uses that word in more than one way.
Scripture speaks of man as having a soul and as being a soul. The context shows which meaning the word carries. For instance, we read, "All the souls of the house of Jacob, which came into Egypt, were three score and ten" (Gen. 46:27), meaning seventy persons. We use the word the same way in ordinary speech when we say that a certain ship sank at sea and every soul perished.
(The ESV renders it "All the persons of the house of Jacob"; older translations read "souls".)
Verse 26 says sixty-six; verse 27 says seventy. The text itself explains the gap.
The next verse tells us that "all the persons of the house of Jacob who came into Egypt were seventy." This is the second list. How is it worked out? Because Joseph and his two sons, who were born to him in Egypt, were there already. So these, with Jacob as stated, made up the number of seventy souls. Now where is the contradiction? Look further. At the beginning of Exodus 1 the list is given as seventy again. It names Jacob's eleven sons who went into Egypt with him, and then, in exact agreement with Genesis 46:27, it adds, "Joseph was already in Egypt." Where is there any contradiction? Read this chapter carefully and you cannot miss the care taken to avoid even the appearance of a discrepancy.
Stephen gives the number as seventy-five. Commentators differ over why. One explanation lets both figures stand.
Notice that Stephen speaks of seventy-five souls, where the Hebrew has seventy. Here, as elsewhere, he quotes the Greek version of the Old Testament. Calvin thinks the difference did not come from the Greek translators themselves. He says it crept in through the fault of copyists, and that Stephen did not say seventy-five... But this seems an unreasonable way of explaining something simple enough... In fact both the Hebrew original and the Greek version may be true. The Greek counts in five sons of Manasseh and Ephraim born in Egypt (1 Chr. 7:14-27).
Set this total beside the number that later walked out of Egypt.
Verses 37-39 show us how greatly God had multiplied the people under the afflictions of Egypt. They went out about 600,000 men, whereas when Jacob went down there the number given in Genesis 46:27 is 70.
A group of seventy should have vanished into a great empire within a few generations. They did not.
The first five verses of Exodus follow straight on from the book of Genesis. They confirm what Genesis 46:8-27 records in more detail. You would expect this small number of 70 to blend into the Egyptian nation. Instead they kept an identity totally distinct from them. Since that time Israel has been scattered for centuries among other nations. Even so, God has kept a clear distinction between them and all Gentile nations. He even gave them their land back in 1948.
- Counted. Seventy is God's register of Jacob's house. He records what is small in man's eyes; nature prizes only what looks great.
- Named. The list names people, not a lump sum: 66 who came, plus Joseph and his two sons already in Egypt, plus Jacob himself.
- Consistent. Verse 26 counts 66 and verse 27 counts 70, on different terms. Stephen's 75 follows the Greek version, which adds five descendants of Manasseh and Ephraim born in Egypt.
- Multiplied. Seventy go down into Egypt; about 600,000 men walk out. Affliction never stopped the growth.
- Kept. The little group never dissolved into Egypt; God has held His people distinct ever since.
And he sent Judah before him to Joseph, to give notice before he came to Goshen. And they came into the land of Goshen.
Jacob's family is nearing Egypt. Before they arrive, he sends Judah ahead to Joseph, the son who now governs Egypt, to prepare the way into Goshen. Two questions follow: why this son, and why this corner of Egypt?
Sending word before you arrive is simple good manners. Older translations read the errand as giving notice of his coming rather than showing the way. One writer contrasts the dignity of Jacob's family with the polish of the great civilisations around them.
Civilisation was not what marked the fathers. It marked the line of Cain in the world before the flood, and Egypt, Assyria and Babylon after the flood, among others. But there is a dignity that goes with the fear of God, far better than any such worldly gloss, however pleasant it is to fallen nature. We see the same godly sense of what is fitting in Abraham and Isaac. We see it here in Jacob too, who sends Judah ahead to Joseph to give good notice of his own coming to Goshen.
Judah is not the eldest son. He is the one who had already put himself on the line for his brother Benjamin.
Judah makes no grand offer staking his own sons; his offer is far more modest, and at his own risk. "Send the boy with me… I will be a pledge of his safety." Jacob trusts him at once and lets Benjamin go. In doing so Jacob showed again his discernment of character. Judah nobly kept his pledge: he stood forward in Egypt and offered himself in place of Benjamin.
That trust was not a one-off. Judah's place among his brothers was changing, and it would shape Israel's future.
Though not the eldest son he began to take a chief place in the family. He persuaded his father to let Benjamin go into Egypt, and whenever appeals had to be made to Joseph, Judah made them. When Jacob blessed his sons, the predictions show that the royal line was centred in Judah.
The destination was not picked at random. One writer explains what made this corner of Egypt fit them.
Goshen was the outlying part of Egypt. There they could best keep to their old work, and were least exposed to the idolatry and moral corruption of that land.
Another writer looks at what came of it.
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God, which was to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. Though under Egyptian rule, there was to be a dividing line from the very start between them and the natives of Egypt. … Pharaoh was very kind. He welcomed them, gave them the best of the land in Goshen, and offered them important posts looking after his cattle. Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was extraordinary, and can only be explained by the moving of God's hand behind the scenes.
The errand is aimed at a person: Judah is sent to Joseph. Goshen matters because Joseph is there.
To reach Joseph, Israel had to make the journey. He had to leave the scene of all his natural affections. And so with ourselves, if we are to reach Christ where He is, we must forget the things that are behind. So Israel comes into the new land — the land of Goshen.
One writer reads the scene as a picture of things to come — Joseph in power, and his family settled near him.
Joseph is now known as alive — Governor of the world — its source of blessing — and Jacob is brought to Him in this role of glory and power. Israel still has, however, his own portion and separate place in the world in Goshen, and in the best of it.
- Sent — Jacob does not arrive unannounced. Sending word ahead shows the same godly sense of what is fitting that marked Abraham and Isaac.
- Trusted — the errand goes to Judah. He had offered himself in Benjamin's place, and Jacob trusted him at once.
- Rising — Judah is not the eldest, yet he takes the chief place. The royal line runs through him.
- Placed — Goshen sits on the edge of Egypt. A dividing line from the start let a nation grow there, instead of dissolving into Egypt.
- Near — the whole journey aims at a person. To reach Joseph, Israel had to leave everything familiar behind.
Then Joseph yoked his chariot, and went up to meet Israel his father, to Goshen, and he presented himself to him; and he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good while.
Joseph now rules Egypt, yet he gets his own chariot ready and drives out to meet his father. A chariot, a neck, and a long weeping: what does the scene tell us about Joseph, and what does it picture?
Joseph does not summon his father to the palace; he goes to Goshen himself. One writer weighs what those years in Egypt had, and had not, changed in him.
The affection was great on both sides. Worldly splendour had not weakened that love which bound father and son together in the promised land.
Joseph had every excuse to be hardened. One writer looks at what power, and the road he took to reach it, had done to him.
In verse 29 we again see Joseph in a very favourable light and as a man of a very tender heart. The splendour of his present position had not spoiled him. He had reached it through sorrow, which has a mellowing and softening effect upon those who go through it with God.
This weeping is not an isolated moment. It belongs to a pattern that starts only when Joseph holds power.
The skill and power of Joseph's hands had carried him to the top. In those hands lay the future of his brothers and of all Egypt. Then the tender compassion of his heart came out, and it showed itself in his tears. In Genesis 39 to 41 Joseph's hands are prominent. Genesis 42 to 50, Joseph's tears. These later chapters record Joseph weeping no less than eight times: Genesis 42:24; 43:30; 45:2, 14, 15; 46:29; 50:1, 17.
The years when tears would have made most sense are the silent ones.
It is remarkable that there is no mention of Joseph weeping in his earlier years. We could easily have understood weeping marking those days. Remember the seas of sorrow and affliction he passed through, which might well have wrung tears from his eyes. His hard-hearted brothers even had to confess, "we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen" (Genesis 42:21). They saw the distress of his soul, but as far as the record goes they never saw his tears.
The wording is worth pausing over. Joseph did not just arrive; he made himself known. One writer reads the journey as a picture of our own search for Christ.
To reach Joseph, Israel had to take his journey (Genesis 46:1). He had to leave the scene of all his natural affections. And so with ourselves, if we are to reach Christ where He is, we must forget the things that are behind. So Israel comes into the new land — the land of Goshen. There he meets his son Joseph, and Joseph "presented himself to him" (v. 29). If on the one hand Israel longs for the company of his son, Joseph on his side is delighted to present himself to Israel. Are we set on the company of Christ? We shall find that Christ is delighted to reveal Himself to us.
Goshen was no random meeting point. Joseph had chosen it before he ever spoke to Pharaoh about his family.
We may notice the faith and wisdom of Joseph, who had already sent the message about Goshen (Genesis 45:10) before he had said a word to Pharaoh. It was the outlying part of Egypt, where they could best keep their old occupation, and were least exposed to the idol worship and moral corruption of that land. So into Goshen they came.
Commentators read Joseph's story as a picture of Christ. Here the weight falls on a father learning at last what his son had become.
They are then brought — as a nation, in Jacob — into the best of the land near Joseph, but He reveals Himself to them one by one as His brothers. Now his father was to hear of his glory in Egypt. Messiah was indeed dear to Jacob, though he had not understood His glory far above and away from him.
- Sorrow softened him. Joseph reached the top through suffering. Suffering gone through with God left him tender, not hard.
- Glory released the tears. The record shows no tears in his years of affliction. All eight weepings fall in the chapters of his power, and this is one of them.
- Rank did not cool love. He harnessed his own chariot and drove out to his father. Egypt's splendour had not weakened the bond formed in the promised land.
- Longing answered. Israel travelled to find Joseph, and Joseph was just as glad to show himself — a picture of Christ revealing Himself to the heart that seeks Him.
- Goshen chosen. Joseph picked the meeting place in advance: the best of the land, on the edge of Egypt, where the family could live clear of its corruption.
And Israel said to Joseph, Now let me die, after I have seen thy face, since thou still livest.
For years Jacob believed his son Joseph was dead, and he spoke of death and dreaded the grave. Now he reaches Goshen, finds Joseph alive and exalted, and says he can die content. What changed?
The verse does not call him Jacob. It calls him Israel. One writer says why the Spirit of God marks this moment with that name:
Jacob had not yet reached the end of his journeys, and not the end of his sorrows either. Of all the fathers he had the most varied experience, as Isaac had the least. So he said later to Pharaoh: "Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life." Yet God's governing hand used this painful experience to bless his soul. The Spirit of God marks that here by the name "Israel" — a name not only given to him, but used of him in the story itself. We find it again years later, when he took another journey that mattered even more (Gen. 46:1, 30; Gen. 48:2).
Joseph now had power and splendour in Egypt. The meeting shows what it had not done to him:
Joseph for his part got his chariot ready and went there to meet Israel his father. When he came before him, he fell on his neck and wept there a good while. The affection was great on both sides. Worldly splendour had not weakened the love that bound father and son together in the promised land.
Jacob had talked about death for years, and the grave frightened him. Now he speaks of dying with no fear in the words. One writer explains the change and applies it to us:
This man had always been speaking of death and dreading the grave. Now he has no more fear of death, because Joseph is alive. As we see that Christ is risen, and as we gaze on His face and learn His love, our souls will be delivered from the fear of death.
Jacob is ready to step aside now that his son is alive and honoured. One writer makes that a lesson in giving Christ first place:
Israel's words to Joseph carry great significance. Israel may die, for Joseph lives! This is the same principle John the Baptist speaks of in John 3:30: "He must increase, but I must decrease." When the Lord Jesus has His place of supreme honour, the nation of Israel will be content to be brought to nothing. How good for us if we learn this lesson well, glad to see the flesh put in the place of death so that Christ may be exalted.
God gave Jacob proof before He gave him joy. One writer traces what that discipline was for:
The Lord always makes sure of His work. He stoops to our weakness and gives us evidence. So here: Jacob is first convinced by evidence that the mercy is real. Then, once he has Joseph back, his relief is complete. The cup is full! The heart was already broken and subdued. Now it is satisfied. It has received back what it lost, straight from God, and with greater honour and glory to Him. Discipline has done its work, and we find that fullness of joy is the great desire of God's heart for us.
One writer reads Jacob's history as the story of his nation in small. This moment previews something still ahead:
Jacob lost his son Joseph for a time, and did not see him again until Joseph was exalted in glory. In the same way, the Jews will not see their Messiah again until He appears in glory. Israel's joy when he saw Joseph (Gen. 46:30) leads our thoughts on to the godly remnant in Jerusalem, when the child Jesus was brought into the temple. Simeon put it like this: "Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace, according to Your word; for my eyes have seen Your salvation." (Luke 2:29-30.)
- Seeing. The verse turns on one thing. Israel has seen the face of the son he thought was dead.
- Seeing removes fear. The man who had spent years dreading the grave stops dreading it, because the one he loves is alive.
- Seeing reorders self. Israel may die, for Joseph lives. When Christ has supreme honour, the flesh is content to be nothing.
- Seeing satisfies. The cup is full: discipline had done its work, and fullness of joy is what God was aiming at all along.
- Seeing is still coming. Jacob saw Joseph only when Joseph was exalted in glory. So Israel will see their Messiah when He appears in glory, as Simeon saw God's salvation.
And Joseph said to his brethren and to his father's house, I will go up, and tell Pharaoh, and say to him, My brethren and my father's house, who were in the land of Canaan, are come to me;
Joseph's family has just arrived in Egypt, and Jacob's household cannot settle until Pharaoh hears who they are. Joseph steps in as their go-between, and he chooses every word with care.
Joseph does not send his brothers into the palace unprepared. He goes ahead of them, and then coaches them on what to say.
The splendour of his present position had not spoiled him. He had reached it through sorrow. Sorrow has a mellowing and softening effect on those who go through it with God. He also took it on himself to be their go-between with Pharaoh, and he taught them how to approach him. They were to emphasize that their occupation had been with sheep and cattle.
Joseph plans to call them "my brothers and my father's household." He will not soften that word, though the men he names kept sheep — a trade Egypt despised. Bellett looks from this scene to Christ and Israel.
They were only shepherds, it is true, and such people were detestable to the Egyptians. But Joseph "is not ashamed to call them brothers." They were strangers, living on charity. Yet the man of that day, the lord of Egypt, was — I say again — "not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in the presence of the king, of the palace, and of the nation. And the king proves to be of the same mind. That they were Joseph's brothers was enough for Pharaoh. This truly speaks to us. A day is at hand when all this will be made good in the great originals of Christ and Israel. He will return to them and say, "They are my people"; and they will say, "The LORD is my God."
Joseph's announcement is also shrewd. A short family notice will place them in one particular part of Egypt.
But we may also note the careful administrator in his words to his brothers... Two things made this advice acceptable to the king, and even to his people. Genesis 45 tells us that Pharaoh had already declared his wish to give them the good of the land of Egypt, so they might eat the fat of the land (vv. 18-20). And since "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians," no one would object in the least to Israel settling into this work on the land best suited to it. So Joseph could advise his brothers from the start. They would live where it was best for them, and least offensive to the Egyptians.
Goshen served several interests at once, and one of them reached beyond Egypt.
On every point of view Goshen was the land most appropriate for his father and his brothers. The land lay nearest for those staying in Egypt for a time. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He had promised long before, when their father had not even one son (Gen. 15). Again, it was near Joseph, and near the king too. Further, the people of the land visited it least of all. To them herdsmen, shepherds and the like were detestable, as Joseph let them know. Even apart from this, we were already told of their general objection to eating bread with foreigners (43:32). Such was the severity of caste among the Egyptians.
Commentators differ on the cause of this loathing. Kelly points to the severity of caste in Egypt. Others trace it to an earlier foreign dynasty:
Joseph instructed his brothers to tell Pharaoh that they were shepherds. They asked permission to live in Goshen, for every shepherd was detestable to the Egyptians. People suppose this began when some 'shepherd-kings' seized authority over Egypt.
The trade Egypt despised pictures work God still asks of His people.
There is a spiritual lesson in this also. God expects His own people to have hearts as shepherds, to care for the needs of souls. The world (Egypt) not only ignores such shepherd care, but resents others who engage in it. In fact, too often even believers do not value the pastoral care and concern that a godly person tries to show them. For this reason we sadly neglect to engage in true shepherd work.
- Announced. Joseph goes up to Pharaoh first. He speaks for his family, and he tells them how to answer the king.
- Owned. He names them as his brothers before the throne, the palace and the nation. Their despised work changes nothing, and the king agrees.
- Placed. Naming their trade secures Goshen: the land best for them, and least offensive to Egypt.
- Positioned. Goshen lay nearest Canaan, nearest Joseph, furthest from Egyptian eyes. Near the promise, near the ruler, apart from the world.
- Applied. The trade Egypt loathed pictures the work God gives His people: caring for souls. The world resents it, and believers too often undervalue it.
and the men are shepherds, for they have been occupied with cattle; and they have brought their sheep, and their cattle, and all that they have.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And it shall come to pass that when Pharaoh shall call you and say, What is your occupation?
Joseph is coaching his brothers before they meet the most powerful man on earth. Pharaoh's question sounds like small talk. The answer would settle where Israel lived, how separate they stayed, and how long they lasted as a family.
Joseph does not leave the interview to chance. He gives them both the question and the answer to use.
Two things made this advice acceptable to the king, and even his people. Genesis 45 records that Pharaoh had already declared his wish to give them the good of the land of Egypt, so that they might eat the fat of the land. And "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians." So no one would object in the least to Israel taking up this work on the land best suited to it — land that also lay farthest from Egyptian eyes, out of their daily sight.
The coaching has one aim: Goshen. Several things made that district the right fit for Jacob's family.
Goshen lay nearest for people who were only staying in Egypt. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He promised long before, when their father had not even one son. It was also near Joseph, and near the king. The people of the land visited it least of all, because herdsmen, shepherds and the like were an abomination to them, as Joseph let them know... They stated their occupation plainly, as it had come down from their fathers. The king not only agreed that Goshen was the most fitting place for them to live; he gave them a hearty welcome.
The family's trade was no handicap to hide. It was the hedge that kept a great civilisation from swallowing a small clan.
The Lord, without doubt, directed this move to Egypt. It kept the family from scattering, and from mixing with strangers, during the important period that had now come. That was the period when the family was to grow into a nation. In Canaan neither of these unwanted results could have been avoided. In Egypt neither could happen. Goshen gave ample room for their growing numbers, and the Egyptians' dislike of shepherds stopped intermarriage from tying the two peoples together.
Scripture never explains why Egypt loathed shepherds. William Kelly goes as far as history allows, and no further.
It appears — and we must not say more when we go outside Scripture — that an invasion of Shepherd Kings from Syria broke the usual line of native rulers for more than two centuries, and that Joseph's sudden rise came under the last of these foreign rulers. If so, that largely explains the readiness to give a shepherd people a district as valuable as Goshen, close to the royal residence on one side and the border of Palestine on the other... The contempt for a shepherd lay in the eye of the native Egyptian. It was not in those who favoured Joseph and his brothers. It was in the native rulers who came back to power soon afterwards. They did not know Joseph, and they went on to persecute the chosen people. We leave this working of providence where it stands. God is above circumstances, though His wisdom is often shown in His use of them on behalf of His plans.
Joseph had to name in court a family whose trade Egypt despised. He did it without embarrassment.
They were only shepherds, it is true, and such people were an abomination to the Egyptians. But Joseph "is not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in the presence of the king, of the palace, and of the nation. And the king proves to be of the same mind... A day is coming when all this will be made good in the great originals, Christ and Israel. He will return to them and say, "They are My people," and they will say, "The Lord is my God."
The trade Egypt despised carries a lesson for believers. And it is not only the world that undervalues shepherd care.
God expects His own people to have hearts like shepherds, caring for the needs of souls. The world (Egypt) not only ignores such shepherd care, but resents those who engage in it. In fact, too often even believers do not appreciate the pastoral care and concern that a godly person seeks to show them. For this reason we sadly neglect to take up true shepherd work.
- Question — Joseph knew what Pharaoh would ask and drilled his family in the answer.
- Answer — They named their trade plainly, as it came down from their fathers, and the king welcomed them.
- Place — Goshen was near Joseph, near the king, and out of the daily sight of Egyptians who despised herdsmen.
- Protection — Egypt's contempt for shepherds fenced Israel in. It held them together and kept intermarriage out.
- Purpose — God stands above circumstances and uses them. The trade the world looked down on was the trade He used to build a nation.
then ye shall say, Thy servants are men that have been occupied with cattle from our youth even until now, both we and our fathers; in order that ye may dwell in the land of Goshen; for every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians.
Joseph tells his family what to say when Pharaoh asks about their work. His reason is blunt: Egypt loathed shepherds. Three things meet here — an honest answer, a claim on one patch of land, and a national dislike that God uses for His own purpose.
Joseph does not hide his family's trade. The plain answer is what secures the land he already has in mind for them.
Two things made this advice acceptable to the king, and even his people. Genesis 45 records that Pharaoh had already declared his wish to give them the good of the land of Egypt, so that they might eat the fat of the land (verses 18-20). And since "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians," no one would object at all to Israel settling into this work on the land best suited to it. That land also lay farthest away, so the Egyptians would not have them in sight day by day. So from the start Joseph could advise his brothers to live where it was best for them, and least offensive to the Egyptians.
Joseph had picked the place long before he spoke to Pharaoh, and the choice guarded more than their livelihood.
We may notice the faith and wisdom of Joseph, who had already in Genesis 45:10 sent the message about Goshen, before he had said a word to Pharaoh. It was the outlying part of Egypt, where they could best keep their old occupation, and were least exposed to the idolatrous and moral corruptions of that land.
The Bible calls every shepherd an abomination to the Egyptians — something they found detestable. It never says why. One suggested cause points back to foreign shepherd rulers who once seized power in Egypt.
A person's wealth in the East often consisted of flocks, so the shepherd held an important and honourable position. David was a keeper of sheep. Joseph instructed his brothers to tell Pharaoh that they were shepherds. They asked permission to live in Goshen, for every shepherd was an abomination to the Egyptians. People think this came from some "shepherd-kings" who had seized power over Egypt.
So why did this Pharaoh welcome them?
Since "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians," we might have been surprised at this. But, as we remarked before, at this period the ruling powers in Egypt were not true Egyptians. They were a foreign race, closely connected with the nomadic and shepherd people to which Jacob and his sons belonged. It is quite likely that the Pharaoh of those days looked on it as a stroke of good business to receive Jacob and his descendants.
What looks like an insult worked as a wall. Egypt's contempt kept the family from dissolving into the people around them.
This move to Egypt was, without doubt, directed by the Lord. It guarded the family from being scattered and from mixing with strangers. The important period had now arrived when God appointed them to grow into a nation. In Canaan both of these bad results would have been unavoidable. In Egypt neither could happen. Goshen gave ample room for their growing numbers, and the dislike the Egyptians had for shepherds (46:34) kept them from intermarrying.
Joseph's relatives carry a trade Egypt despises. He brings them before the king anyway.
They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth, people held in abomination in the land of Egypt. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in front of the king. And the king himself is of one mind with Joseph toward them; he owns them too, and honours them.
The trade Egypt could not stomach still pictures what God asks of His people.
God expects His own people to have hearts as shepherds, to care for the needs of souls. The world (Egypt) not only ignores such shepherd care, but resents others who engage in it. In fact, too often even believers do not appreciate the pastoral care and concern that a godly person seeks to show them.
The same rejection met Christ Himself, the Good Shepherd.
Our Shepherd is the "Good Shepherd," He who has given His life for the sheep. That hostility marked those who heard these words from His blessed lips (John 10). It still marks this present world. Man, as such, has no appreciation of the worth of Christ the Good Shepherd (compare Genesis 46:34).
- Confess. Joseph tells his family to name their trade honestly before the king rather than disguise it.
- Placed. That honest answer wins them Goshen. It lay on the edge of Egypt, where they could keep their old life, far from its idolatry.
- Despised. Every shepherd was detestable to Egypt. The loathing is traced to earlier foreign shepherd rulers — yet this Pharaoh came from that same stock, and he welcomed them.
- Protected. The contempt worked as a hedge. It kept the family from intermarrying and scattering while God made them a nation.
- Owned. Joseph is not ashamed to present despised shepherds as his own before the king. The shepherd care the world still resents is the very heart Christ showed as the Good Shepherd.
And Joseph came and told Pharaoh and said, My father and my brethren, and their sheep and their cattle, and all that they have, are come out of the land of Canaan; and behold, they are in the land of Goshen.
Jacob's family has arrived from Canaan and stopped in Goshen. Joseph now walks into the palace to tell the king. Where they will live, what they will eat, and what they will become all hang on how he speaks of them.
Joseph does not send a message. He goes in himself and names his father and brothers. He lists their flocks and herds, and says where they are. He then brings only a few of them forward.
In announcing to Pharaoh the coming of his father and his brothers, Joseph first introduces five of his brothers to him (vv. 1-2). We are not told which ones, but they were likely those who could speak on behalf of their other brothers.
Egypt looked down on shepherds. Joseph names these men as his own in the throne room anyway — and the king takes his side.
They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth, the sort the land of Egypt detested. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in front of the king. And the king himself feels about them just as Joseph does. He owns them too, and honours them, and wants them to see the whole of his land as open before them.
Mawson draws out what the brothers themselves would never have assumed:
It could not have entered into the thoughts of those sons of Jacob that they were the brothers of that great lord of Egypt. The mighty Pharaoh had entrusted all his wealth and rule to him. They would have been content to remain beggars at his feet, receiving from his bounty what would keep their souls alive. But this would not have suited him, for he loved them well. Because he loved them, he made known the relationship they had with him, and made them at home in it.
Joseph names the place where the family has stopped. Kelly gives three reasons why that corner of Egypt suited them.
On every point of view Goshen was the land most appropriate for his father and his brothers. It lay nearest for those staying in Egypt for a time, for those whom God had marked out to enter Canaan. That was the land He had promised long before, when their father had not even one son (Gen. 15). Again, it was near Joseph, and near the king as well. Further, the people of the land went there least of all, since herdsmen, shepherds and the like were detestable to them, as Joseph let them know.
Kelly adds why Joseph brought only a few brothers forward to speak for themselves. It mattered that the king should reach the same conclusion as his minister, and decide freely, with no pressure from a man so close to the family.
The arrangement was practical. It also served a purpose the family could not see.
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God, which was to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. Though under Egyptian jurisdiction, there was to be a line of separation from the outset between them and the natives of Egypt. So in the early verses of Genesis 47 we read how simply and naturally all this came to pass.
Hole then points to Pharaoh's response, and to what lay behind it:
Pharaoh's attitude was most kind. He welcomed them, giving them the best of the land in Goshen, and offering them important posts as rulers of his cattle. Egypt, like the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was indeed extraordinary. Only the moving of God's hand behind the scenes can account for it.
Bellett reads this scene as a picture of something still to come:
Joseph has now received his brothers and enriched them with the richest of the land. He has also presented them without shame before the lord the king... And so will it be at the end of the days. The long-forgotten brothers, now repentant, shall sit in the true Goshen, the glory of all lands. And Jesus shall own them and present them as His brothers without shame.
- Owned. Joseph goes in himself. He names these despised shepherds as his own family before the king.
- Named. He loved them. So he told them what they were to him, instead of leaving them as beggars at his feet.
- Placed. Joseph chose Goshen with care: nearest for people heading to Canaan, near himself, and out of the Egyptians' daily sight.
- Kept. Egypt's contempt for shepherds became God's fence. It kept the family separate while it grew into a nation.
- Promised. Joseph owned his brothers without shame. Bellett sees Christ doing the same, and seating His own in the true Goshen.
And he took from the whole number of his brethren, five men, and set them before Pharaoh.
Joseph has just told Pharaoh that his family has arrived from Canaan. Now he picks five of his brothers and stands them in front of the king of Egypt. Why five? Why send them in at all? And why let the king hear that these guests worked a trade Egypt despised?
Joseph had eleven brothers, yet only five went in. One writer suggests why:
In announcing to Pharaoh the coming of his father and his brothers, Joseph first introduces five of his brothers to him. We are not told which ones, but they were likely those who could speak on behalf of their other brothers.
Joseph already knew where he wanted his family settled. Rather than use his own influence to arrange it quietly, he let the brothers speak for themselves so that the decision came from the king himself:
But it mattered that the king should come to the same conclusion as his minister of state, and decide freely without any pressure from one so close to the sons of Israel. Presenting a suitable number of his brothers was wisely arranged. They stated their occupation plainly, as it had been handed down from their fathers. The king agreed that Goshen was the most fitting place for them to live, and he also gave them a hearty welcome.
These were the same men who had sold him. They were also herdsmen, and Egyptians loathed herdsmen. Joseph brought them into the throne room anyway, and one writer sees in this the heart of Christ toward His own:
They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth, the kind of people held in disgust in the land of Egypt. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in the presence of the king, and the king himself is of one mind with Joseph toward them. He owns them too, and honours them, and will have them treat the whole of his land as open before them.
A famine was on. A king with empty granaries had every reason to turn away a large foreign household. Instead he gave them the choicest ground, and the arrangement served a purpose no one in the palace could see:
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God, which was to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. Though under Egyptian rule, there was to be a dividing line from the start between them and the natives of Egypt. So in the early verses of Genesis 47 we read how simply and naturally all this came about. Pharaoh's attitude was entirely kind. He welcomed them, giving them the best of the land in Goshen, and offering them important posts as rulers of his cattle. Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was extraordinary. It can only be explained by the moving of God's hand behind the scenes.
One writer reads the number itself, drawing on how five is used elsewhere in Scripture:
What is the meaning of five? In Scripture five is the number that is always connected with weakness... And what God has to teach us is that in ourselves we are the expression of utter weakness. We have no strength either at the beginning or the end of our journey... God must be our strength, and is so when we are consciously weak.
Commentators see more than family history in Joseph's rise from rejection to power:
Joseph is, as we know, Christ once rejected and suffering, now exalted: this is He whom Israel does not know.
- Presented. Five brothers speak for the rest. They stand before a king who owes them nothing, and Joseph is the one who brings them in.
- Owned. Joseph claims them as his brothers in open court, though Egypt despised their trade. He is "not ashamed to call them brothers."
- Weak. In Scripture, five speaks of weakness, not strength. The brothers bring nothing but their need and their trade.
- Welcomed. The king decides freely, without pressure from Joseph, and settles them in the best of the land.
- Arranged. Such a welcome in a famine has one explanation. God's hand was moving behind the scenes, forming a separate nation in Goshen.
And Pharaoh said to his brethren, What is your occupation? And they said to Pharaoh, Thy servants are shepherds, both we and our fathers.
Famine in Canaan has driven Jacob's family to Egypt, and five of Joseph's brothers now stand before Pharaoh. His question about their work is simple. Their answer decides where they will live and how Egypt will see them.
Joseph had already told Pharaoh who these men were. Their own answer matches his.
Joseph tells Pharaoh that his father and his brothers have come. First he introduces five of his brothers. We are not told which ones, but they were likely those who could speak on behalf of their other brothers. They answer Pharaoh's question about their occupation by confirming Joseph's word. They were shepherds as their fathers were, and they wanted to live in Egypt for a time, because the famine had left no pasture in Canaan.
Their answer named a trade Egypt despised. One commentator shows why Goshen still suited them, and why Pharaoh had to decide it himself.
On every point of view Goshen was the land most appropriate for his father and his brothers. The land lay nearest for those who were only staying in Egypt for a time. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He had promised long before, when their father had not even one son. Again, it was near Joseph, and the king also; and further, it was the least frequented by the people of the land, to whom herdsmen, shepherds and the like were detestable, as Joseph let them know. … But it mattered that the king should come to the same conclusion as his minister of state, and decree freely without any pressure from one so near to the sons of Israel. Bringing in enough of his brothers was a wise arrangement. They stated their occupation plainly, as handed down from their fathers. The king not only agreed that Goshen was the best place for them to live; he gave them a hearty welcome.
Egyptians loathed shepherds, yet Pharaoh welcomed this family. One writer explains it from who held power in Egypt at the time.
The last verse of the next chapter tells us that "every shepherd is an abomination to the Egyptians." This might have surprised us, if we did not know, as we said before, that at that time the ruling powers in Egypt were not true Egyptians. They were a foreign race, closely connected with the wandering, shepherd people that Jacob and his sons belonged to. The Pharaoh of those days may well have seen it as a stroke of good business to receive Jacob and his descendants. It would bring under his protection those who would be his natural allies.
What made Egyptians recoil served God's purpose. This family was about to become a nation.
The Lord, without doubt, directed this move to Egypt. It guarded the family from being scattered, and from mixing with strangers, during the important period that had now arrived, when the family was appointed to grow into a nation. In Canaan both of those bad results would have been unavoidable. Neither could follow in Egypt. Goshen gave ample room for their growing numbers, while the Egyptians' dislike of shepherds kept the two peoples from marrying into each other.
Joseph is the lord of Egypt. The men he brings in are shepherds from a starving land. He claims them anyway.
They were only shepherds, it is true, and such men were detestable to the Egyptians. But Joseph "is not ashamed to call them brothers." Strangers they were, and dependents. But the man of that day, the lord of Egypt, again I say, was "not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in the presence of the king, of the palace, and of the nation. And the king proves to be of the same mind. That they were Joseph's brothers was enough for Pharaoh.
The trade the brothers named carries a lesson for believers now.
God expects His own people to have hearts as shepherds, to care for the needs of souls. The world (Egypt) not only ignores such shepherd care, but resents others who engage in it. In fact, even believers too often do not value the care and concern a godly person tries to show them. For this reason we sadly neglect to do true shepherd work.
- Confess — Asked what they do, the brothers name their trade and trace it to their fathers. It is just what Joseph had said for them.
- Ask — That answer opens the way to Goshen: nearest to Canaan, nearest to Joseph, least visited by Egyptians.
- Favour — Pharaoh's own line was tied to shepherd people. He welcomed them as natural allies worth protecting.
- Separation — What Egypt despised became God's fence. Goshen gave room to multiply, and no marriage ties to dissolve the family into Egypt.
- Owned — The lord of Egypt is not ashamed to call shepherds his brothers, and says so before king, palace and nation. God still looks for shepherd hearts the world resents.
And they said to Pharaoh, To sojourn in the land are we come; for there is no pasture for the sheep that thy servants have, for the famine is grievous in the land of Canaan; and now, we pray thee, let thy servants dwell in the land of Goshen.
Jacob's sons stand before the ruler of the greatest kingdom on earth. The grass is gone in Canaan and their flocks are dying, so they ask for room to stay a while — not for land to own. Why name Goshen? Why call themselves temporary residents? And who stands behind this welcome?
The brothers answer Pharaoh's question first. Only then do they ask for what they need:
Pharaoh asked them what they did for a living. They answered by confirming Joseph's word: they were shepherds, as their fathers were. They wanted to stay in Egypt because the famine had left no pasture in Canaan. So they asked permission to settle in the land of Goshen.
Of all Egypt, they name one district. The reasons pile up:
From every point of view, Goshen was the most suitable land for his father and his brothers. The land lay nearest for those staying in Egypt. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He had promised long before, when their father had not even one son. It was also near Joseph, and near the king. And the people of the land visited it least of all, for they found herdsmen, shepherds and the like detestable, as Joseph let them know.
They ask Pharaoh; Pharaoh replies to Joseph. The brothers receive far more than the corner of land they asked for:
Pharaoh does not answer them directly. He speaks to Joseph. This reminds us that God gives all blessing through the Lord Jesus, the One in whom He finds great delight. So Pharaoh freely grants through Joseph all they desire: he tells Joseph they may have the best of the land. This was pure grace.
Joseph stood close to these men. Yet the decision was the king's own:
It mattered that the king should reach the same conclusion as his minister of state, and decree freely, without any pressure from a man so close to the sons of Israel. It was wise to present a fitting number of his brothers. When they plainly stated their occupation, handed down from their fathers, the king not only agreed that Goshen was the most fitting place for them to live, but gave them a hearty welcome.
A hungry empire had no obvious reason to hand its best pasture to foreign shepherds. Commentators trace the kindness back past Pharaoh:
It is easy to see how this suited God's purpose. He meant to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. They would live under Egyptian rule. But from the start there was to be a line of separation between them and the native Egyptians... Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such kind treatment was truly extraordinary. Only one thing explains it: God's hand moving behind the scenes.
The very thing that made them unwelcome guests is what kept them intact as a family:
On the one hand, Goshen gave plenty of room for their growing numbers. On the other, the Egyptians disliked shepherds, and that dislike stopped the two peoples from forming ties by intermarriage.
They asked to stay a while. Their descendants stayed for centuries. Long before, God had told Abram what lay ahead:
Abram went down into Egypt under natural pressure. And God let him know in a vision that his offspring would live as strangers in a land not theirs, in slavery and affliction for four hundred years. They would come out with great wealth, and God would judge their oppressive masters. Israel came down under the prestige of Egypt's greatest governor and the warmest royal favour. They might have expected nothing but ease and honour. They were settled in the best of the land, in Goshen — the far province of Egypt toward the southern border of Palestine. But despite appearances, Egypt in the LORD's eyes meant slavery and affliction; and so it turned out when Joseph's protection was no longer there.
The word they chose for themselves carries a lesson that outlives the famine:
God intends us to be strangers in the world that exists today. If we settle down and become permanent residents, we may easily be carried down into a spiritual Egypt and enslaved there. So let us take the warning of this Scripture to heart.
- Famine asks. Empty pasture in Canaan drove the brothers to Pharaoh, not ambition. They asked only to stay a while, and named one district: Goshen.
- Goshen fits. It lay nearest to the land God had promised them, nearest to Joseph, and furthest from a people who despised shepherds.
- Grace answers. They asked Pharaoh; Pharaoh replied to Joseph. Through him they received not a corner of ground but the best of the land — pure grace.
- God separates. Behind the royal welcome stood God's purpose: to grow a nation that stayed distinct. Even Egypt's contempt for shepherds kept them from intermarrying.
- Sojourners remain. Best of the land or not, Egypt meant slavery once Joseph's protection was gone — exactly as God had told Abram. Settle down in the world, and it may hold you too.
And Pharaoh spoke to Joseph, saying, Thy father and thy brethren are come to thee.
Jacob's sons have just asked Pharaoh to let them live in Goshen for a time, because the famine had stripped Canaan of pasture. Pharaoh answers — but not to the men who asked.
The men spoke for themselves, yet the king turned and spoke to Joseph. One writer reads that redirection as the shape of how God gives:
Pharaoh does not answer them directly. He speaks to Joseph, reminding us that God gives all blessing through the Lord Jesus, the One in whom He finds great delight. So through Joseph they receive all they desire freely, for Pharaoh tells Joseph they may have the best of the land (vv. 5-6). This was pure grace. But some of them, being capable men, could also be put in charge of Pharaoh's livestock.
Pharaoh names them by their tie to Joseph. That tie is their whole standing, and Joseph had not hidden it. Egyptians despised shepherds, and he owned them anyway:
They were only shepherds, it is true, and such men were detestable to the Egyptians. But Joseph "is not ashamed to call them brothers." They were strangers and dependants. Yet the man of that day, the lord of Egypt, I say again, was "not ashamed to call them brothers." He owns them in front of the king, the palace, and the nation. And the king proves to be of the same mind. That they were Joseph's brothers was enough for Pharaoh. Truly this speaks to us. A day is near when all this will come true in the great originals — Christ and Israel. He will return to them and say, "They are my people"; and they will say, "The LORD is my God."
Goshen suited them on several counts at once, and the king decided it himself, without Joseph pressing for it:
From every point of view Goshen was the land most suitable for his father and his brothers. The land lay nearest for those staying in Egypt for a time. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He had promised long before, when their father did not have even one son (Gen. 15). Again, it was near Joseph, and near the king too. It was also the least visited by the people of the land. Herdsmen and shepherds were detestable to them, as Joseph let them know... But it mattered that the king should reach the same conclusion as his chief minister. He had to decide for himself, with no pressure from someone so close to the sons of Israel.
Pharaoh hands out his best farmland while his own country is starving. One writer sees God's purpose behind the throne — to form a nation and keep it distinct:
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God, which was to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. They were under Egyptian rule, but from the start a line was to divide them from the native Egyptians... Pharaoh's attitude was full of kindness. He welcomed them, giving them the best of the land in Goshen, and offering them important posts as managers of his cattle. Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was extraordinary. Only God's hand moving behind the scenes explains it.
The scene has two figures of power, and they agree. One writer sets out how each contributes to what the family receives:
Pharaoh, on the throne, has the same mind, and makes the power and resources of Egypt bring Jacob down there, so that all the good of Egypt might be theirs. Joseph is the source, and the centre of close relationship. But the authority and power and resource of Pharaoh is in the same mind... Israel still has his own portion, and a separate place in the world, in Goshen, and in the best of it.
The whole scene points ahead, and one writer marks where the picture stops:
This pictures the Lord Jesus restoring Israel to great blessing in subjection to His authority. We are also told that he nourished them with food (vs.11-12)... Of course the history here is only typical, for Israel soon after found itself in the bitter bondage of slavery to the Egyptians.
- Asked — the brothers asked for Goshen. The king's reply went to Joseph, because blessing reaches them through him.
- Owned — Pharaoh names them as Joseph's father and brothers. Being his family was enough to secure everything.
- Granted — they asked for a short stay on poor terms, and the king gave them the best land. Writers call this pure grace, with work offered on top.
- Guarded — Goshen kept them near Joseph, near Canaan, and apart from Egypt. There a nation could grow without mixing.
- Limited — the settlement pictures Israel's future blessing. But the picture broke down: slavery followed.
The land of Egypt is before thee; in the best of the land settle thy father and thy brethren let them dwell in the land of Goshen. And if thou knowest men of activity among them, then set them as overseers of cattle over what I have.
Jacob's sons have just told Pharaoh they are shepherds, and they asked for one corner of Egypt — Goshen. Pharaoh gives far more: he opens the whole country to them, hands them the best of it, and invites some of them into his own service.
The brothers asked; Pharaoh answers Joseph. One writer sees in that detail the pattern of God's giving, and also why the offer of a post followed:
Pharaoh does not answer them directly. He speaks to Joseph. This reminds us that God gives all blessing through the Lord Jesus, the One in whom He finds great delight. So through Joseph Pharaoh freely grants them everything they wanted. He tells Joseph they may have the best of the land (vv. 5-6). This was pure grace. But capability mattered too. Some of them could also be put in charge of Pharaoh's livestock. Since he knew Joseph, he expected that at least some of his brothers would be capable men.
Egyptians despised shepherds. Joseph presented his brothers anyway, and the king took Joseph's own attitude toward them:
Joseph was not only to make himself known to his brothers. Now his family must become known to Pharaoh too (Acts 7:13). So he presents them to the king. They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth. Egypt held such people in disgust. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He acknowledges them in the king's presence. The king himself is of one mind with Joseph toward them. He acknowledges them too, honours them, and will have them treat the whole of his land as open before them.
Pharaoh names the exact place the brothers asked for. Several things made Goshen fit them, and it mattered that the king agreed with his minister:
From every point of view Goshen was the most suitable land for his father and his brothers. It lay nearest for those who were only visiting Egypt. God had destined them to enter Canaan, the land He had promised long before, when their father had not even one son (Gen. 15). Again, it was near Joseph, and near the king as well. It was also the part least visited by the Egyptians, who found herdsmen and shepherds disgusting, as Joseph let them know... But it mattered that the king should reach the same conclusion as his minister of state. He had to decide freely, without pressure from a man so close to the sons of Israel... He also told Joseph to appoint capable men from among them to take charge of his own cattle there.
A separate district suited this family for a reason. And the size of the favour, in a year of famine, points beyond Pharaoh:
It is easy to see how this suited the purpose of God. He meant to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. They lived under Egyptian rule, but from the very start a dividing line was to separate them from the native Egyptians... Pharaoh was very kind in his attitude. He welcomed them, gave them the best of the land in Goshen, and offered them important posts as rulers of his cattle. Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Treatment as favourable as this was extraordinary. Only the moving of God's hand behind the scenes explains it.
Writers read this scene as a preview. Joseph is the centre, the throne is of one mind with him, and the family keeps a place of its own:
Pharaoh, on the throne, has the same mind. He makes the power and resources of Egypt bring him down there, so that all the good of Egypt might be theirs. Joseph is the source, and the centre of close relationship... Joseph is now known as alive — Governor of the world, its Source of blessing. Jacob is brought to Him in this character of glory and power. Israel still has his own portion, however, and a separate place in the world in Goshen, and in the best of it.
- Famine. Food had run out across the whole region. The brothers came asking only for pasture, with nothing to offer and no claim to press.
- Favour through Joseph. Pharaoh answers Joseph, not the brothers who asked. Blessing reaches them through him. Commentators read this as the pattern of how God gives through Christ.
- The best of the land. They asked for Goshen. Pharaoh opened the whole country to them and settled them in its finest part. That is grace, not a bargain.
- A separate place. Goshen kept them near Joseph and near the throne, away from a people who despised their work. So they stayed a distinct nation. Writers trace this to God's hand behind a king's generosity.
- And a place of service. Grace gave them the land. Ability could add charge of Pharaoh's own herds. The gift came first, the office second.
And Joseph brought Jacob his father, and set him before Pharaoh. And Jacob blessed Pharaoh.
Joseph brings his father Jacob, an old shepherd and a refugee from famine, before the most powerful ruler on earth. Commentators keep asking why the weaker man ends up in the higher place, blessing the king.
Joseph arranges the meeting. Jacob had spent his life herding sheep, far from any palace.
Another deeply interesting meeting comes next. "Joseph brought in Jacob his father and stood him before Pharaoh." The aged patriarch showed no embarrassment at all before the world's most exalted monarch. "Jacob blessed Pharaoh." Never had the king of Egypt stood so high.
The poor man in the room turns out to be the greater one. One writer sees a rule here that holds for every believer.
It is touching to notice what happens when Joseph presents Jacob to Pharaoh. Jacob admits that his life had been a sad one compared with his fathers'. Still he can bless the monarch of the whole country, he himself a despised shepherd. The least and most faltering of God's children has the superiority, and knows it, when standing in front of the most elevated men of the world.
What made him greater was not status but what he knew and held.
Twice in this passage we are told that Jacob blessed Pharaoh, and we remember what Hebrews 7:7 says: it is beyond dispute that the inferior is blessed by the superior. The patriarch stood there as a displaced person, a refugee before the great king. Yet he knew himself to be superior to him in his knowledge of the true God. He knew Him well enough to be sure of one thing. His promised presence and guidance was worth more than all the glory Egypt had to offer. He had the better, while Pharaoh, for all his outward majesty, had the less.
Jacob stood before a man who could have given him anything.
As he stood there in the royal presence, he owned himself a pilgrim on the earth, somewhat poor and weary too. But he blesses him as he comes in and as he goes out, as one who knew what he was by God's choice and grace... He made no requests of the king, though he might reasonably have expected whatever he asked. He said nothing about all that Pharaoh or Egypt would do for him. He speaks instead as the better one blessing the less, again and again.
The same man who blesses a king also calls his own years few and hard. Commentators see no contradiction there — both attitudes come from the same source.
Jacob would speak of his pilgrimage, of his few and evil days, making himself nothing in the world's reckoning; but at the very same moment he would bless the man who was then the greatest on earth, conscious that under God, and before him, he was "the better," the greater man of the two.
Others in Jacob's family had acted very differently in front of powerful rulers.
How wonderful the grace of God toward Jacob! It was his to bless Pharaoh. Abram deceived the Pharaoh of his day... He deceived Abimelech in the same way. Isaac did the same later, just as forgetful of his Almighty protector. Not so the "worm Jacob." God made him strong in his weakness, so that he carried himself with dignity before the greatest man on earth. He asked for no favour, when we may be sure he might have had anything... Yet there was in this neither vanity nor pride, but a soul that had come to know divine goodness. A better portion was his than the world could give. Besides, there was treasure enough in God for Pharaoh, so that his heart overflowed on the king's behalf.
Jacob's hard years left him humble, and that humility sits beside a settled sense of blessing.
after
It is very lovely to see this lowliness, the result of his "few and evil" days. A believer may have to confess his failure in front of the world, to his own shame. Yet where the soul is in communion with God, there is bound to be the consciousness of blessing.
One writer looks past Jacob himself to his descendants.
Joseph brought Jacob and some of his sons to Pharaoh, who received them kindly, and Jacob blessed Pharaoh. The great and powerful monarch of the great land of Egypt was blessed by poor old Jacob. He is more than blessed — he is a blesser, a picture of what Israel is yet to be for the nations of the earth.
- Blessed. Jacob had nothing the palace valued. He had God's promised presence and guidance, and that made him the richer man in the room.
- Better. Hebrews 7:7 gives the rule: the one who blesses stands higher. So the shepherd outranks the king.
- Blesser. Having received, he now gives. He had treasure enough in God to overflow toward Pharaoh, and he asked the king for nothing.
- Bold, not proud. He calls his own days few and evil, and still blesses a monarch. There is no vanity in it, only a soul that knows God's goodness.
- Beyond Jacob. The scene points ahead to a day when Israel blesses the nations. It also fits every believer, who stands higher than the greatest people of the world.
And Pharaoh said to Jacob, How many are the days of the years of thy life?
Pharaoh asks an old man a simple question about his age. The answer is one of the most searching self-descriptions in the Bible, and it raises two questions for any life: how do you count your years, and who is the greater man in that room?
Egypt's throne had never stood higher than under Joseph's care. At that moment the king meets Joseph's father.
Another deeply interesting meeting is now set before us. "Joseph brought in Jacob his father and set him before Pharaoh." The aged patriarch was not embarrassed at all before the greatest king in the world. "Jacob blessed Pharaoh." Never had the king of Egypt stood so high. God had instructed Joseph, and through him the king took wise and fair measures. In the years of plenty they provided for the years of famine. They relieved the poor freely and enriched the king beyond any example. They met the needs of nearby lands, and above all provided for the chosen people.
Jacob's answer gave more than a number. It gave a word for the kind of life he had lived.
Then comes the touching scene where Joseph presents old Jacob to Pharaoh. At 130 he must have seemed a very old man to Egyptian eyes. Twice over, in verse 9, we find him using the word "pilgrimage." His life had of course been a wandering one. But it still shows something more. These God-fearing patriarchs, as Hebrews 11 shows, always had the eyes of their hearts on the future. They knew that they lived this present life with a destination in view that they had not yet reached. If this was true of them, how much more should it be true of us, who share in a heavenly calling?
Jacob's answer was a verdict on his own life. One writer traces it back to years of trying to win God's promise by his own efforts.
Jacob's history is the history of a man in God's favour. But God disciplined him in a failing walk, and through failure. God stayed faithful through all his failures and wanderings, while he tried to bring about the blessing in a merely human way. We see just this result in his meeting with Pharaoh (Gen. 47). He goes in before the great ruler of the world and blesses him without any hesitation. At the same time he gives a very sorrowful account of his own life.
Another writer asks what Jacob left out of the count.
Here is a man who has to say, "Few and evil have been the number of the days of my life" — he had lived 130 years when he spoke; I refer to Jacob. As he looked back, how many days there were in which he had no contact with God — lost days, not to be numbered... How many days are there in 130 years? Yet "few and evil." He had been out of touch with God; those days are lost. We need to number our days.
Jacob's frank confession did not shrink him in the king's presence.
How wonderful the grace of God toward Jacob! It was his to bless Pharaoh... In weakness God made him strong. He carried himself with dignity before the greatest man on earth. He did not ask a single favour, when we may be sure he could have had anything. He blessed Pharaoh when he went in, and again before he came out. "It is beyond dispute that the inferior is blessed by the superior." Yet there was no vanity or pride in this. Here was a soul that had come to know divine goodness. He had a better portion than the world could give. Besides, there was treasure enough in God for Pharaoh, so his heart overflowed on the king's behalf.
Jacob's sad verdict is not where his story ends.
We see believers, Christians, who begin their course poorly. But they learn to judge themselves under God's disciplining hand. Then they finish their course well, and sometimes even in glory. This was the case with Jacob, whose days were "few and evil" but whose life ended with a full vision of glory.
- Question. Pharaoh asks for a number. At 130, Jacob looked very old to Egyptian eyes.
- Confession. Jacob answers: few and evil. Those were years spent trying to win God's promise by his own efforts.
- Pilgrimage. He counts his years as a journey, with his heart set on a destination not yet reached, as those in Hebrews 11 did.
- Dignity. The same man who calls his life sad blesses the greatest king on earth and asks nothing for himself. The greater blesses the lesser.
- Glory. Discipline did its work. The man of few and evil days ended his course with a full view of glory. So number your own days.
And Jacob said to Pharaoh, The days of the years of my sojourning are a hundred and thirty years. Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life, and they do not attain to the days of the years of the life of my fathers, in the days of their sojourning.
Pharaoh asks how old he is, and Jacob answers with a confession: 130 years of sojourning, "few and evil." So why does a man God kept all the way speak so sadly of his own life — and how can he bless the most powerful ruler on earth in the same breath?
Jacob does not say "my life" the first time. He says "my pilgrimage," and he says it again at the end of the sentence when he speaks of his fathers. That repetition is deliberate and carries the whole outlook of these men.
At the age of 130 he must have seemed a very old man in Egyptian eyes. But twice over, in verse 9, we find him using the word "pilgrimage." It is true, of course, that his life had been a wandering one. Still, it shows that these God-fearing patriarchs, as Hebrews 11 tells us, always had the eyes of their hearts on the future. They knew that the present life was headed for a destination not yet reached.
Jacob was not the only one to talk this way, and their journeys said it before their words did.
"They confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth." This was literally so, as their journeys moved along the stream of time. By word of mouth they declared this of themselves. (Gen. 23:4; Gen. 28:4; Gen. 47:9.)
The sadness is real, and grace runs right through it.
You see grace in it. But at the end of his life he says, "Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been." God's patient love had taken care of him, and he could speak of "the angel that redeemed him from all evil." It was deeply sad. It was not unbelief, but he was a believer not walking by faith.
Jacob compares his own years with his fathers', and the comparison does not flatter him. Writers set his summary beside the way Scripture closes Abraham's life.
Jacob is a warning to us, but Abraham is an example. Jacob did find the Lord again by His grace. But he never had the many blessed experiences that Abraham had. "Abraham died in a good old age, old and full of days, and he was gathered to his people." Jacob said instead, "The days of the years of my life have been few and evil…" (Gen. 25:8, and Gen. 47:9.) He ended his life in Egypt.
God's desire for His people is Abraham's story, not Jacob's.
Suppose God has revealed Himself to your heart. He has spoken to you of future glory and set you apart to Himself. Then He would not want you passing through the wilderness in hardship. He would not want you to have Jacob's experience, talking about the great things you have to give up. He does not like that. He wants you to be like Abraham, saying, "Look at all my blessings; look how close God has set me to Himself."
The hard years were not simply loss.
Jacob had not yet reached the end of his journeys, any more than of his sorrows. He was a man of the most varied experience among the fathers. Yet this painful experience under the governing hand of God was blessed to his soul.
And the story does not end at the low point of this confession.
We see believers, Christians, who begin their course badly. But they learn to judge themselves under God's disciplinary hand, and they finish well — sometimes even gloriously. This was the case with Jacob, whose days were "few and evil" but whose life ended with a full vision of glory.
In one meeting Jacob told a sad life story and blessed the ruler of the world's greatest empire. The two go together.
He goes into the presence of the great ruler of the world. Without any hesitation he blesses him, while at the same time giving a very sorrowful account of his own life. In the presence of the world his superiority is plain. But when he puts himself alongside other saints, his own life has been a sad one — few and evil his days. The moment you set a saint beside the highest ruler in the world, the saint is the greater. It is very lovely to see this lowliness, the result of his "few and evil" days.
Some also read Jacob's answer as a picture of the nation that came from him.
He had seen great trouble and sorrow during his 130 year pilgrimage. The same has been true of his descendants, the Jewish nation, who have suffered more affliction than any other nation over centuries.
- Pilgrimage. Jacob calls his years a journey, and he says it twice. Hebrews 11 gives all these men the same outlook: a destination still ahead.
- Few. Abraham died "old and full of days." Jacob's summary is short and sad — the record of a believer who did not walk by faith.
- Evil. The trouble was real, but not wasted: it came under God's governing hand and was blessed to his soul.
- Blessed. Jacob told a sad life story, then blessed Pharaoh. He was lowly among the saints, yet the greater man before the world.
- Glory. A course begun poorly can still end well; Jacob's did, closing with a full view of glory.
And Jacob blessed Pharaoh, and went out from Pharaoh.
Famine has driven Jacob south, and he now stands before the most powerful ruler on earth as an old shepherd with no land of his own — yet he blesses the king, going in and coming out. How can a man who has just called his own life short and hard act as the greater of the two?
Commentators all point to one line in Hebrews 7:7 as the key: "It is beyond dispute that the inferior is blessed by the superior." On one side stands a displaced man, on the other a throne.
It is touching to notice, when Jacob is presented to Pharaoh, that although he admits his life had been a sad one compared with his fathers', he can still bless the monarch of the whole country — he himself a despised shepherd; and "beyond all dispute the less is blessed by the greater." The least and most faltering of God's children has the superiority, and is conscious of it, in the presence of the most elevated men of the world.
The superiority is not in résumé or resources. It is in knowing God.
The patriarch, though at that moment only a displaced person and a refugee in the presence of the great king, was consciously superior to him in his knowledge of the true God. He knew enough of Him to be sure that having His pledged presence and guidance was something greater than all the glory Egypt had to offer. He had the better, while Pharaoh, for all his outward majesty, had the less.
Jacob had every worldly reason to trade on his position, since his son ran Egypt. Bellett notes that he stayed a stranger instead — and asked the king for nothing.
Joseph was the second man in the kingdom, and Joseph was Jacob's son. Here was a temptation for Jacob to come forward and show himself to the world… He was a stranger, where every human attraction joined in tempting him to be a citizen. In the middle of all this practical life as a stranger he knows and exercises his dignity under God. As he enters, and as he leaves the presence of Pharaoh (Gen. 47), he blesses him. This is worth noticing. As he stood there in the royal presence, he owned himself a pilgrim on the earth, rather poor and weary too. But at his introduction and at his exit he blesses him, as one who knew what he was in the election and grace of God… He made no requests of the king, though he might reasonably have expected whatever he asked.
Kelly calls this a wonder of grace. Abram had once deceived a Pharaoh; weak Jacob stands before one with dignity, and asks for nothing.
How wonderful the grace of God toward Jacob! It was his to bless Pharaoh. Abram deceived the Pharaoh of his day… Not so the "worm Jacob." In weakness he was made strong, and able to carry himself with dignity before the greatest man on the earth. Not a favour did he ask, when, we may be sure, he might have had anything… Yet there was in this neither vanity nor pride, but a soul that had come to know divine goodness; and then a better thing was his portion than the world could give. Besides, there was treasure enough in God for Pharaoh; so that his heart overflowed on the king's behalf.
What makes the scene striking is that Jacob's honest, downcast account of his own years and his confident blessing sit side by side in the same conversation. Neither cancels the other.
Jacob would speak of his pilgrimage, of his few and evil days, making himself nothing in the reckoning of the world; but he would at the same moment bless the man who at that time was the greatest on earth, conscious that, under God and before Him, he was "the better," the greater man of the two.
Kelly reads the same balance in Jacob's inner state: the humbled heart "rose up without question of pride to bless the king. God was before his faith, and he could bless Pharaoh simply, out of a full heart" (William Kelly).
Up to this point in his story Jacob has been the one receiving. Here the direction reverses.
A poor pilgrim blesses the monarch of the mightiest realm of that day; but the greatest of earth is little in comparison with the blessed of God. Jacob now is not merely blessed, but a blesser. He knows God well enough to be sure that nothing Pharaoh has could really enrich him, and that there is very much which God could give, on which Jacob could count from God even for Pharaoh.
Writers also see a picture of the future here. Gaebelein reads Jacob as standing for his nation:
The great monarch of Egypt was blessed by the poor old Jacob. He is more than blessed, but a blesser, a type of what Israel is yet to be for the nations of the earth.
Hole turns the scene into a question for the reader.
In the light of the faith and glory of Christ, the position of the Christian is much heightened. Are we always alive to the favour in which we stand, and therefore lifted above the favours and attractions of the world?
- Better. Hebrews 7:7 sets the direction. The one who blesses is the greater, so a landless shepherd outranks the throne of Egypt.
- Known. His greatness was not wealth or standing but knowledge of the true God — Pharaoh had the glory, Jacob had "the better."
- Nothing. He asked the king for no favour. He already had a portion the world could not give, and treasure in God enough to share with Pharaoh.
- Both. He called himself a poor pilgrim and still blessed the greatest man on earth. There was no vanity or pride in it.
- Overflow. The blessed man becomes a blesser. Writers see in it a preview of Israel blessing the nations — and a question for us: are we living above the world's attractions?
And Joseph settled his father and his brethren, and gave them a possession in the land of Egypt, in the best of the land, in the land of Rameses, as Pharaoh had commanded.
Joseph's brothers once sold him. Now his hand gives them the best land in Egypt, granted by the king. Why that place? What did the gift really give them? And what does the scene picture?
The brothers had nothing to recommend them. Egypt despised their trade, yet Joseph claimed them as his own in front of the king.
They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth — people the Egyptians detested. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He acknowledges them in front of the king, and the king has the same mind toward them: he acknowledges them too, he honours them, and he wants them to treat his whole land as open to them. So they get the best of the land, in Goshen in the land of Rameses, and Joseph feeds them and their households.
"The land of Rameses" was a district inside Goshen. The place is easier to describe than to pin down.
A district in Goshen in Lower Egypt, east of the Nile, in which Jacob and his descendants were placed, and in which they built a treasure city of the same name for Pharaoh. It was from there that the Israelites began their march out of Egypt. No one can identify the site today, and it is disputed whether the district or the city took its name from the Egyptian kings called Rameses.
Joseph does not act alone. He gives the land "as Pharaoh had commanded," and the king's own power backs the gift.
Pharaoh, on the throne, has the same mind. He makes the power and resources of Egypt bring him down there, so that all the good of Egypt might be theirs. Joseph is the source, and the one they are closest to, but the authority and power and resources of Pharaoh are in the same mind... Israel still, however, has his own portion, and a separate place in the world in Goshen, and in the best of it.
One writer sees this settlement as a picture of what Christ will do for Israel. He then adds a caution about what came next.
This pictures the Lord Jesus restoring Israel to great blessing under subjection to His authority, for we are also told that he nourished them with food (vv. 11-12). How wonderful it will be for Israel in the millennium to be settled for good and richly supplied! Of course the history here is only a picture, for Israel soon after found itself in bitter slavery to the Egyptians.
This home lies in Egypt, not in Canaan. One writer takes that as a hint of how wide the blessing goes.
For this type looks at a far wider circle of blessing than Canaan. In the same way, the rejected Son of man is to receive dominion and glory and a kingdom, so that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve Him... But this in no way hinders the special honour and nearness of Israel.
The good times were real. They did not last.
Let the day be as bright as the day of the Egyptian Joseph was to Israel — faith knows that "the polished surface" will soon break up. Circumstances never give faith its object. The word of God does that. We must not let circumstances and appearances take the eye of faith off its object... The house, swept and garnished as it is at present, promises much. So did the land of Rameses and the friendship of Pharaoh, in the days of Genesis 50. But such promises are idle words in the ear of faith; it pays them no attention.
Joseph's wife, Asenath, gets no share in this land. One writer says that silence is the point.
Joseph's brothers (and father) picture the nation of Israel receiving rich blessing on earth under the reign of the true Joseph. Asenath — that is, the church — receives no such portion. She enjoys a better lot: she is united with Joseph, who is head over all things... The church is not the earthly nation under the king's reign. She is the heavenly wife of the One who wants her to share His exaltation.
- Owned — Joseph calls despised shepherds his brothers in front of the king. That claim secures all the rest.
- Placed — the land lies in the district of Rameses inside Goshen, east of the Nile. There they later built a treasure city for Pharaoh.
- Backed — Joseph gives, but Pharaoh commanded it. The king's mind and Egypt's resources stand behind the gift.
- Pictured — writers see Israel settled and fed under Christ's rule, with blessing wider than Canaan. The history itself soon turned to slavery.
- Held loosely — Rameses promised much and did not last. Faith takes its object from God's word, not from a bright present, and the church's portion is heavenly, not earthly.
And Joseph maintained his father, and his brethren, and all his father's household, with bread, according to the number of the little ones.
Famine has emptied Canaan, and the family that once sold Joseph into Egypt now eats from his hand. He feeds them all, down to the youngest child — and commentators find here both a picture of Christ and a pattern for service.
The bread comes from the man they tried to be rid of. God's purpose, not their good behaviour, had put him where the grain was.
Food for the inner man comes only from Him, just as the sons of Jacob found none in Canaan. Their father heard of it in Egypt, for the fulfilment of God's purpose, and sent them there. Joseph had provided for a starving world, and his heart longed to supply his father and his brothers. They had sold him away there, and they knew so little of him. They meant evil against him, but God meant it for good, to preserve them a posterity in the earth and save their lives. How much more was this true of the greater than Joseph!
Joseph did not feed them in secret. Egypt looked down on shepherds, yet he brought his brothers to Pharaoh.
They were shepherds, it is true, keepers of cattle from their youth. Egypt held such people in disgust. But what of that? "He is not ashamed to call them brothers." He acknowledges them in front of the king. The king himself is of one mind with Joseph toward them. He acknowledges them also, and honours them, and tells them to treat the whole of his land as open before them. So they are placed in the best of the land, in Goshen in the land of Rameses, and Joseph feeds them and their households.
Verse 12 comes after verse 11: first a place, then daily bread. Together they mean more than survival.
But people were not only saved by Joseph, they prospered under Joseph. We see this set out in the history of Israel and his sons. The Lord Jesus does a great deal more for His people than save them from the world's famine. He brings us into a good land, a heavenly country, and blesses us with spiritual blessings. As we enter into those spiritual blessings we shall grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Others look forward from Goshen to what is still ahead for Israel, with a caution attached.
This pictures the Lord Jesus restoring Israel to great blessing under subjection to His authority. We are also told that he nourished them with food (vv. 11–12). How wonderful it will be for Israel in the millennium to have a settled home for good, with plenty for all! Of course the history here is only a picture. Israel soon afterwards fell into bitter slavery under the Egyptians.
One name is missing from the list of those given land and bread: Asenath, Joseph's wife.
Joseph's brothers (and father) are a picture of the nation of Israel receiving rich blessing on earth under the reign of the true Joseph. But Asenath, that is, the church, receives no such portion. She enjoys a better lot — united with Joseph, who is head over all things.
Years of this provision followed. Then a crisis showed what the bread had not given them.
For seventeen years they had received Joseph's generosity. They had been the special objects of his loving care. And yet, when a crisis arises, it becomes clear that they have no personal knowledge of Joseph. They know something of his greatness and glory. They know the great work he has done. They know that every blessing they enjoy is owing to his position and his work. But they had no personal acquaintance with his mind and heart. It is as if they said, "We know what he has done for us, but we do not know how he feels about us."
One writer reads Joseph's care for his brothers as a pattern for Christian service.
Joseph's service brought him reproach and misunderstanding. In the end he had the joy of fellowship with them, and Joseph "provided … his brothers … with food" (Genesis 47:12). Paul cared for all the churches. Timothy had genuine concern for the saints. Epaphras prayed earnestly. They are a few of those who sought the welfare of the brothers — a happy service open to all.
- Famine. Bread ran out in Canaan; the family had to come to the one place — and the one person — where life was stored up.
- Nourished. Joseph fed the brothers who sold him; they meant evil, God meant it for good, to preserve them and save their lives.
- Owned. Joseph acknowledged despised shepherds in front of the king, and they got the best of the land, not a corner of it.
- Prospered. Christ does more than save His people from famine. He brings them into a good land and blesses them there.
- Known? Seventeen years of food still left them strangers to Joseph's heart. Knowing what He has done is not yet knowing how He feels about you.
And there was no bread in all the land; for the famine was very grievous; and the land of Egypt and the land of Canaan were exhausted through the famine.
The famine is now at its worst. Verse 13 turns from Jacob's family in Goshen to what hunger was doing to two whole countries. From here the chapter records how Joseph fed a starving world, and what it cost those who came.
Egypt was fed too, but on very different terms.
Joseph's father and brothers were settled in the best of the land and fed there. We now turn to how things stood among the Egyptians. This takes up verses 13-26. As the dreams had foretold, the famine grew steadily worse. The people were fed, but not as those in Goshen were. They had to buy their food from Joseph, who acted for Pharaoh. They brought their money, and when that ran out their cattle, and when those ran out they had to sell their land.
What did that difference do to Jacob's family over the years?
Jacob's family was clearly not put under the same bondage as the Egyptians at this time. Pharaoh had given them land and Joseph had supplied their food. They grew and multiplied greatly. They did not become absorbed into Egyptian culture, but kept their identity as the children of Israel.
Watch what the people hand over, step by step.
First "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (Gen. 47:14); second, he "supplied them with food in exchange for all their livestock that year" (v. 17); third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20); and last, he says, "I have bought you this day" (v. 23). So you see the money fell into Joseph's treasury, and the cattle became his. The lands fell into his hand, and at last Joseph acquired the people themselves for Pharaoh. Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his parentage can fill him in the day of hunger and need.
One writer ends the account with a question.
They had spent it all and still needed food... the people came to Joseph again telling him they had nothing left except their bodies and their lands. Now they ask Joseph to take their land and also make the people the property of Pharaoh. Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
Only one man in Egypt had bread to give.
As in the time we have referred to, only those who dealt with Joseph in their need had bread, so it is now. Christ is our Life-sustainer. Many are faint, confused and uncertain, because they do not go to Him to be nourished by His truth. As in the old days the people came to Joseph saying, "Give us food," so all believers have to learn that there is famine everywhere apart from the blessing of the One greater than Joseph... This Joseph was a remarkable type of Christ risen and glorified. His brothers hated him and sold him. He was falsely accused and put into a dungeon. After he came out, he was highly exalted. Then, by God's ordering, he became the giver of bread to preserve life — a striking picture of the Lord Jesus, our Life-sustainer.
The famine gave Joseph a claim no ruler has matched. What is striking is not only the scale of the claim but the absence of protest.
So everything passes under the absolute control of Joseph — money, cattle, the land, and finally the people themselves... Many a ruler has made crushing claims, but not one has ever dared to claim everything the way Joseph did. What is more, those who have made large claims on their subjects have not been able to make them good. Others, in trying, have provoked rebellion and revolution. Joseph, however, not only makes unheard-of claims, but makes them good without a single voice raised in rebellion.
One writer sees a famine still ahead for the world, and only one Person able to meet it.
The time of famine is surely not far off which will show the resources of Him who will then be seen as the only One able to meet its terrible demands.
The chapter ends with the people holding their land again.
The people, bankrupt through the famine, receive their lands back from the bounty of the king. They return him one fifth of what the land produces. That fifth is the token of what they owe to the grace from which they have received everything.
- Famine. The shortage grew worse, just as the dreams had foretold. Verse 13 turns the story from Jacob's family to the Egyptians.
- Emptied. Hunger took the money, then the cattle, then the land, then the people themselves. Neither pride nor parentage can fill an empty stomach.
- Two households. Egypt bought its food. Pharaoh gave Jacob's family land and Joseph fed them, so they kept their identity instead of dissolving into Egypt.
- One source. Only those who dealt with Joseph had bread. He pictures Christ — hated, sold, imprisoned, then exalted to preserve life.
- All subject. Joseph's claim was total, yet not one voice rose against it. The fifth part they returned marked what they owed to the grace that fed them.
And Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt, and in the land of Canaan, for the grain which they bought; and Joseph brought the money into Pharaoh's house.
The famine has taken every coin in Egypt and Canaan. All of it ends up in Joseph's hands, and from there in Pharaoh's house. Two questions shape the rest of the chapter: why does Joseph take everything, and who does he take it for?
The money is only the first stage. Commentators trace how the people give up one thing after another until they have nothing left.
The famine hit Egypt and Canaan hard, just as Joseph had predicted. The people continued to buy food from Joseph as long as they had money (vv. 13–14). But they spent it all and still needed food. So Joseph told them to bring their livestock to trade for food. This lasted a year. Then the people came to Joseph again. They told him they had nothing left except their bodies and their lands. Now they ask Joseph to take their land and to make them Pharaoh's property. Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
The verse says Joseph gathered all the money. One writer shows how far that word "all" reaches, and how rare such a claim is in history.
So everything passes under Joseph's absolute control — money, cattle, the land, and at last the people themselves. Pharaoh's words come true to the letter: "without your consent no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt" (Gen. 41:44). Joseph uses his power to bring all into subjection. No earthly king, before or since, has made such claims. Many a ruler has made crushing demands, but not one has ever dared to claim everything the way Joseph did. Other rulers who claimed much from their people could not make the claim stick, and some who tried stirred up rebellion and revolution. Joseph makes unheard-of claims, and he makes them good. Not one voice rises in rebellion.
Joseph could have kept the wealth. Instead the verse names where it went, and the chapter repeats that pattern.
A second great fact stands out: Joseph claims everything, and he claims it for Pharaoh. He gathers up all the money, and we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). The land comes under Joseph's control, and we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). Of the people too Joseph can say, "I have bought you this day and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power for Pharaoh's glory, not for his own advancement.
Many readers find Joseph's handling of Egypt harsh. Commentators note the difficulty and still see something beyond it.
Joseph's action strikes us as harsh. Even so, we cannot help thinking it is a picture. It shows how fully he was "lord of all Egypt," and so a figure of Christ. The Lordship of Christ is absolute. If He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all. As Lord He subdues everything to God and orders everything according to the Divine mind. A time will come "when all things are subjected to him" (1 Cor. 15:28), and as a result God will be all in all.
The stripping is not the end of the story. Joseph's power serves two ends at once.
Finally, a third striking fact stands out. On the one hand, Joseph uses his power to subdue everything for Pharaoh. On the other hand, he uses his supremacy over everything to bless the people. Pharaoh's glory is kept, and the people's blessing is secured — but only as they submit to Joseph without holding anything back.
One writer turns the scene on the reader. Hunger emptied Egypt's purses, and hunger of soul is what drives a person to Christ.
There is nothing that brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his parentage can fill him in the day of hunger and need. The prodigal son would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods the pigs ate, but he could not. Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger. It is a great thing when that hunger takes command — when a man feels he is a sinner, needs Christ, and must have Christ. Pharaoh sent the needy of his day to Joseph. They had to admit his importance, and from him they got what met their need, while Joseph acquired everything for his master.
- All given. Money first, then livestock, then land, then their own persons. The famine strips Egypt and Canaan stage by stage.
- All claimed. No ruler before or since has claimed everything as Joseph did — or made the claim good without one voice raised against him.
- All for the throne. The money goes into Pharaoh's house, the land is bought for Pharaoh, the people are bought for Pharaoh; Joseph keeps none of it for himself.
- All subdued to God. Commentators see a figure of Christ here. His lordship covers every detail, until all things are subjected to Him and God is all in all.
- All blessed. The same power that takes everything is also used to bless the people. Blessing comes only to those who submit without reserve, and hunger is what brings them there.
And when money came to an end in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan, all the Egyptians came to Joseph, saying, Give us bread! for why should we die before thee? for [our] money is all gone.
The famine has drained Egypt and Canaan of money, and the people come back to Joseph with empty hands. Why does Scripture record, step by step, how a whole nation lost everything it owned?
Money is the first of four surrenders. One writer traces the sequence:
When there was "no bread in all the land," the people "fainted because of the famine," and had to go to Joseph to buy grain. So, first, "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (Gen. 47:14). Second, he "fed them with bread in exchange for all their livestock that year" (v. 17). Third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). And last, he says, "I have this day bought you" (v. 23)... There is nothing that brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his parentage can fill him in the day of hunger and need... Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger, and it is a great thing when that hunger takes over — when a man feels that he is a sinner, has need of Christ, and must have Christ.
Where the ESV has "Give us food," older translations read "Give us bread." Their words are not a bargain. They are a cry to the only one who has what they need:
In the old days the people came to Joseph, saying, "Give us bread." In the same way, all believers have to learn that there is famine everywhere apart from the blessing of the greater than Joseph... Joseph was a remarkable picture of Christ risen and glorified. His brothers hated him and sold him. He was falsely accused and put into a dungeon, and after he came out he was raised to the highest place. Then he became, by God's ordering, the one who handed out bread to preserve life — a striking picture of the Lord Jesus, who sustains our life.
Losing everything sounds like disaster. One writer turns it into a question:
The people continued to buy food from Joseph as long as they had money (vv. 13-14). But when they had spent it all and still needed food, Joseph told them to bring their livestock to exchange for food. ... Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
He is not building his own fortune. Everything he gathers goes somewhere else:
If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). Again, if the land comes under Joseph's control, we read he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). Joseph can say the same about the people: "I have bought you this day and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power, not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The same power that strips them also blesses them — on one condition:
On the one hand, Joseph uses his power to subdue everything for Pharaoh. On the other hand, he uses his complete supremacy to bless the people. If Pharaoh's glory is kept up, the people's blessing is secure — but only as they fully submit to Joseph.
The surrender that starts here ends with a nation owned by another. One writer points to a price far greater than grain:
The Lord Jesus Christ has saved our lives. Our bodies belong to Him, and not to ourselves. "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price" (1 Cor. 6:19-20), and "you were ransomed... not with perishable things such as silver or gold... but with the precious blood of Christ" (1 Peter 1:18-19). Joseph bought the Egyptians with grain, but the Lord Jesus bought us with His own precious blood. He paid such a great price because He counted us most precious to Himself.
Nobody resents the exchange. One writer sees a preview in it:
They hand over their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves to Pharaoh; and yet it all pleases them, for they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt, in those days, was a sample of the new world, the world brought back to God by redemption. It was a "purchased possession," just what the millennial earth is to be (Eph. 1:14). It was creation reconciled, delivered from the doom of famine, from death and the curse, by the hand of a saviour.
- Money fails. Money is the first prop to go. Hunger brings a man down where pride and parentage cannot hold him up.
- Bread is elsewhere. There is famine everywhere apart from the greater than Joseph, and the way to Him is to ask, not to buy.
- Nothing left. The Egyptians lose their money, then their cattle, then their land, and finally themselves. One writer asks whether it is good for us to be brought down to nothing.
- Owned for another. Joseph claims everything and keeps nothing. Money, land and people all go to Pharaoh, for his master's glory.
- Owned, and blessed. Their blessing is secure only as they fully submit to Joseph. Christ bought His people not with grain, but with His own blood.
And Joseph said, Give your cattle, and I will give you for your cattle, if [your] money be all gone.
The famine has emptied every purse in Egypt. The people come back to Joseph with a plain problem: money can no longer buy bread. His answer does not turn them away. It names a new price, and it begins a process that will cost them everything they own.
Joseph does not hand out grain for free. Each time one resource runs out, he asks for the next one, and the people keep coming.
All the wealth of Egypt passes into his hands. We read, "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan" (vv. 13, 14). Then when the money failed, Joseph claims their livestock. He said, "Give your livestock," and we read, "So they brought their livestock to Joseph" (vv. 15-17). Then the money is spent and the livestock is gone. They say there is nothing left but "our bodies and our land." So they add, "Buy us and our land for food." And we read that Joseph "bought all the land of Egypt."
Need takes one thing after another. Nothing a person owns or inherits holds up against an empty stomach.
The money went into Joseph's treasury. The livestock became his. The lands fell into his hand. And last of all, Joseph acquired the people themselves for Pharaoh. Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his family background can fill him in the day of hunger and need… Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger. It is a great thing when that hunger takes over — when a man feels that he is a sinner, that he needs Christ, and that he must have Christ.
One writer draws a lesson for us out of Egypt's emptying.
But when they had spent it all and still needed food, Joseph told them to bring their livestock to exchange for food. This arrangement continued for a year. Then the people came to Joseph again. They told him they had nothing left except their bodies and their lands… Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
Joseph could have enriched himself. The livestock he asks for here ends up where everything else ends up.
If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). If the land comes under Joseph's control, we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). Of the people too Joseph can say, "I have this day bought you and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power for the glory of Pharaoh, not for his own gain.
Commentators differ on how to judge Joseph's terms. One calls the arrangement oppressive, yet still finds a picture of Christ in it.
Though this action of Joseph strikes us as oppressive… we cannot help thinking it has value as a picture. It shows how completely he was "lord of all Egypt," and so a figure of Christ. Now the Lordship of Christ is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all.
Another reads the same events as kindness, and points to people left happier than before — and not treated as slaves.
The famine in Egypt ended with the people becoming the property of Pharaoh. In the same way, the great famine of the tribulation period will end with Jews and Gentiles realizing they are really the property of the Lord Jesus, the King of kings. Because of their great trouble they will become more content and happy than they have ever been before, just as the people of Egypt all found blessing through the wisdom and kindness of Joseph. Joseph's plan would make the people more equal, with everyone having at least enough for their needs… The people of Egypt said they were willing to be Joseph's slaves (v. 25), but Joseph did not treat them like mere slaves.
The Egyptians got bread only by handing over what they held.
On the one hand, Joseph uses his power to subdue all for Pharaoh. On the other hand, he uses his supreme place over everything for the blessing of the people. If Pharaoh's glory is kept up, the people's blessing is made sure — but only as they submit to Joseph without holding anything back.
- Money fails. The famine first takes what people trust most. When the money is gone, Joseph is still the only source of bread.
- Livestock follows. The famine does not lift, so the claim goes one step deeper each time — money, then herds, then land, then the people themselves.
- Hunger humbles. Pride and family name feed no one. The writers apply this to soul-hunger — the moment a person feels he must have Christ.
- Emptiness qualifies. Having nothing left is not ruin. It is the state in which a person finally receives real supply.
- Surrender blesses. Joseph claims everything for Pharaoh's glory and uses that power for the people's good. The blessing comes only as they submit and hold nothing back.
And they brought their cattle to Joseph; and Joseph gave them bread for horses, and for flocks of sheep, and for herds of cattle, and for asses; and he fed them with bread for all their cattle that year.
Joseph's storehouses hold the only bread left, and Egypt's money is gone. Now the trade is livestock for bread. Commentators read in it a lesson about human need and a picture of Christ's coming rule.
The livestock are the second step in a sequence. One writer lists all four steps and names what drove them:
Read the forty-seventh chapter of Genesis and you will find four points. When there was no bread in all the land, the people fainted because of the famine and had to go to Joseph to buy grain. So first, Joseph "gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (v. 14). Second, he supplied them with food in exchange for all their livestock that year (v. 17). Third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). And last, he says, "I have this day bought you" (v. 23). The money went into Joseph's treasury. The cattle became his. The lands fell into his hands. And last of all, Joseph acquired the people themselves for Pharaoh. Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his parentage can fill him in the day of hunger and need.
Losing everything is not the disaster it looks like. One commentator retells the trade and ends with a question for the reader:
The people continued to buy food from Joseph as long as they had money (vv. 13-14). But they spent it all and still needed food. So Joseph told them to bring their livestock to exchange for food. This arrangement continued for a year. Then the people came to Joseph again and told him they had nothing left except their bodies and their lands... Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
The verse names horses, flocks, herds and donkeys — living creatures, not just goods. Christ makes the same claim over them:
Just as the livestock also became the property of Joseph, so the Lord says, "Every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills" (Ps. 50:10).
Another writer sets this buying of the animals in a longer line. Animals keep sharing in what God does for people:
Noah carried them, "two of every sort," with himself and his household through the waters into the new world. The same covenant that settled him and his descendants there provided for them too (Gen. 9:10). Joseph bought all the cattle as well as the people of Egypt for Pharaoh (Gen. 47:17)... In the coming kingdom they will still acknowledge Him, for all will be in subjection to Him, and beasts and all cattle will praise the Lord (Ps. 148:10; Heb. 2:8; Rev. 5:13).
What makes this remarkable is not the scale but that nobody resisted:
So everything passes under Joseph's absolute control — money, cattle, the land, and last of all the people themselves. Pharaoh's words come true word for word: "without your consent no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt" (Gen. 41:44). Joseph uses his power to bring all into subjection... Many a ruler has made crushing claims, but not one has ever dared to claim everything the way Joseph did. Others who made large claims on their subjects could not make them good. Some who tried provoked rebellion and revolution. Joseph not only makes unheard-of claims; he also makes them good, and no one raises a voice in rebellion.
Commentators differ on how this policy looks today. One calls it "oppressive legislation." He still reads Joseph as a picture of Christ, whose "Lordship is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all" (F. B. Hole). Another sees grace in it, because Joseph's rule kept the people alive:
In chapter 47 Joseph becomes the one who upholds the world in life and order. Through him life in the earth is preserved and order kept. And he makes all the people willing in the day of his power... Their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves all pass to Pharaoh; and yet it all pleases them, for they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt in those days was a sample of the new world, the world brought back to God by redemption. It was a "purchased possession," just what the millennial earth is to be (Eph. 1:14). It was creation reconciled, delivered from the doom of famine, from death and the curse, by the hand of a saviour. Joseph's corn had bought the land, the cattle, and the people.
- Famine. Hunger strips a man of pride and parentage; it drove Egypt to Joseph when nothing else would have.
- Surrender. Money went first, then the livestock, then the land, then the people themselves. And it is good to be brought down to nothing.
- Purchase. What Joseph's grain bought became his by right. Christ claims the beasts of the field on the same ground.
- Subjection. No ruler before or since has claimed everything and made the claim good without a single voice raised in rebellion.
- Blessing. The stripping ended in lives saved. That is why commentators see here a sample of the world redeemed and reconciled under Christ.
And that year ended; and they came to him the second year, and said to him, We will not hide [it] from my lord that since [our] money is come to an end, and the herds of cattle are in the possession of my lord, nothing is left before my lord but our bodies and our land.
In the second year of the famine the Egyptians come back to Joseph. The money is gone. The livestock is gone. All they have left is their own bodies and their land. Commentators read this both as history — a whole nation brought to nothing — and as a picture of how need drives people to the one who has bread.
Each step of the famine takes one more thing out of the people's hands. One writer traces the sequence and draws a plain lesson:
Genesis 47 gives four points. When there was "no food in all the land," the people were faint from the famine, and they had to go to Joseph to buy grain. First, Joseph "gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (Gen. 47:14). Second, he supplied them with food in exchange for all their livestock that year (v. 17). Third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). Last, he says, "I have this day bought you" (v. 23). So you see: the money fell into Joseph's hands, and the cattle became his. The land fell into his hand too, and in the end Joseph acquired the people themselves for his master. Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his family line can fill him in the day of hunger and need. Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger. It is a great thing when a man feels that he is a sinner, and must have Christ.
Here the people stop bargaining and tell the truth about themselves. One commentator turns that into a question:
When the year ended, the people came to Joseph again telling him they had nothing left except their bodies and their lands. Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
Another writer says what such need teaches, and where it points:
Face to face with our need, we learn our true nothingness. Then we cry out to Him, and He proves Himself the living God. But God's remedy is Christ alone. He has put all things in His hand, absolutely and without changing His mind. He would have all men to be saved, but there is no other name given by which we can be saved.
The demands here are not merely heavy. They are total, and no one resists them:
So everything passes under Joseph's complete control: money, cattle, the land, and in the end the people themselves. Pharaoh's words come true to the letter: "Without your consent no one shall lift up hand or foot in all the land of Egypt" (Gen. 41:44). Joseph uses his power to bring all into subjection. No earthly king, before or since, has ever made such claims. Many a ruler has made crushing claims, but not one has dared to claim everything the way Joseph did. Joseph makes his claims good without a single voice raised in rebellion.
Notice who Joseph gathers it all for. What the people hand over does not stop with the man in front of them:
A second great fact is noticeable: in claiming everything, Joseph does so for Pharaoh. If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). If the land comes under Joseph's control, we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). Of the people too Joseph can say, "I have this day bought you and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power, not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The people who give up everything are not ruined by it. The same writer names the condition:
On one side, Joseph uses his power to subdue everything for Pharaoh. On the other side, he uses his supremacy over all for the blessing of the people. He keeps Pharaoh's glory, and he secures the people's blessing — but only as they submit to him without reserve.
Some writers read the famine as a picture of a coming worldwide time of trouble:
The famine in Egypt made the people the property of Pharaoh. In the same way, the great famine of the tribulation period will bring Jews and Gentiles to see that they are really the property of the Lord Jesus, the King of kings. Because of their great trouble they will become more content and happy than ever before. All the people of Egypt found that same blessing through the wisdom and kindness of Joseph.
- Stripped — money, then livestock, then land, then the people themselves. Hunger takes away everything a person leans on. Pride and family name cannot feed anyone.
- Honest — here the Egyptians stop bargaining and admit the truth about themselves. Commentators ask whether it is good for us, too, to be brought down to nothing.
- Surrendered — need is where we learn our real nothingness and cry out to God. God's remedy is Christ alone.
- Owned — Joseph claims everything, and claims it all for Pharaoh, not for himself.
- Blessed — those who surrender without reserve lose nothing in the end. The one who owns them keeps them alive and provides for them.
Why should we die before thine eyes, both we and our land? Buy us and our land for bread, and we and our land will be bondmen to Pharaoh; and give seed, that we may live, and not die, and that the land be not desolate.
The famine has emptied Egypt of money and livestock, and the people have nothing left to offer Joseph but themselves and their fields. They ask him to buy both, and to give them seed — an offer that sounds like ruin, and turned out to be rescue.
Verse 19 is the last stage of a steady emptying. One writer walks through the stages that led to it:
First, Joseph uses his position of supremacy to bring everything into absolute subjection to himself. All the wealth of Egypt passes into his hands: "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan" (vv. 13, 14). Then when the money failed, Joseph claims their cattle. He said, "Give your cattle," and we read, "They brought their cattle to Joseph" (vv. 15-17). Then, the money spent, the cattle gone, they say there is nothing left but "our bodies and our lands," and so they add, "Buy us and our land for food." So we read that Joseph "bought all the land of Egypt" (vv. 19, 20).
Hunger is what finally brought Egypt to Joseph. One writer moves from that hunger to a deeper one:
Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither his pride nor who his parents were can fill a man in the day of hunger and need… Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger. It is a great thing when that soul-hunger takes command — when a man feels that he is a sinner, that he needs Christ, and that he must have Christ.
These are people who have run out of options. One writer turns their condition into a question for the reader:
They now ask Joseph to take their land and to make the people the property of Pharaoh. Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
Joseph holds every advantage in this deal. One writer points out whose gain it all became:
Joseph must seat the king in rule over the world, with the glad loyalty of a rescued and happy people who would owe their lives to him. And this he does. He gives the Egyptians their lives out of his storehouses. But he gathers their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves, all for Pharaoh. For himself he keeps nothing but his place of honour and trust and service under the king. Everyone, it is true, was to confess that he was lord, their deliverer and preserver. But this was to be Pharaoh's glory.
Selling yourself sounds like slavery. One writer points instead to how the people themselves described it:
Though reduced into order and subjection, it is really in blessing. The people's own word is this: "You have saved our lives; may it please my lord" — "we will be servants to Pharaoh."
They ask for seed as well as food, so the land will not lie empty. One writer weighs what the people gave back in return:
The people, bankrupt through the famine, receive back their lands from the generosity of the king. They return to him one fifth of the produce of the land, as the token that they owe everything to the grace from which they have received all. Two tenths — a fifth — may remind us of the double claim of God upon us: by creation and by redemption. All the world shall own this in the day to come.
Joseph bought a nation with grain. One writer sets that beside a greater purchase:
The Lord Jesus Christ has saved our lives. Our bodies belong to Him, and not to ourselves. "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price" (1 Cor. 6:19-20), and "you were ransomed… not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ" (1 Peter 1:18-19). Joseph bought the Egyptians with corn, but the Lord Jesus bought us with His own precious blood. He paid such a great price because He counted us most precious to Himself.
- Emptied — money first, then cattle, then bodies and land. The famine strips Egypt in stages, until the people have only themselves to offer.
- Hungry — pride and family name feed no one. Felt need drives a person to the one who has bread.
- Bought — they ask Joseph to buy them, and he buys them for Pharaoh. He keeps nothing for himself but his place of service.
- Seeded — they get more than survival: seed to sow and their land handed back. The fifth they return marks the grace that gave them everything.
- Owned — Christ bought us too, not with grain but with His own blood. We are not our own, and being His is blessing, not bondage.
And Joseph bought all the soil of Egypt for Pharaoh; for the Egyptians sold every man his field, because the famine prevailed over them; and the land became Pharaoh's.
The famine has already taken Egypt's money and its livestock. Now the land itself changes hands, which raises two questions: why Joseph takes everything, and in whose name he buys it.
The sale of the land is the third stage in a process. One writer lists the stages and names the force behind them:
There we read that when there was "no bread in all the land," the people "fainted because of the famine," and had to go to Joseph to buy grain. So, first, "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (Gen. 47:14); second, he "fed them with bread for all their cattle for that year" (v. 17); third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20); and last, he says, "I have bought you this day" (v. 23). Nothing brings a man down like hunger.
The verse does not stop at "Joseph bought" — it says for whom. That small phrase decides how we read the whole transaction:
A second great fact is noticeable: in claiming all, Joseph does so for Pharaoh. If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14); again, if the land comes under Joseph's control, we read he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). So too of the people Joseph can say, "I have bought you this day and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power, not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The scale of this sale is not the only remarkable thing about it. No one protested:
Never, before or since, has any earthly king made such claims. The historical fact is without parallel in the history of the world. Many a ruler has made crushing claims, but not one ever dared to claim everything the way Joseph did. Others who made large claims on their subjects could not make them good. In trying, they provoked rebellion and revolution. Joseph, however, not only makes unheard-of claims — he makes them good. No one raises a voice in rebellion.
The verse says Joseph bought all the land, yet the priests kept theirs. One writer sees a picture in that exception:
The land of the priests was exempt from this decree. Pharaoh already supported them, and nothing here changed that (v. 22). These priests were not appointed by God. Even so, they picture the liberty true believers in the Lord Jesus enjoy today. The people picture the area of government, while the priests picture the free working of the Spirit of God in grace.
Joseph's control over Egypt now covers everything. Commentators read it as a picture of something larger:
Though this action of Joseph strikes us as oppressive — especially his moving the people from one end of the land to the other — we cannot help thinking it has value as a picture. It shows how fully he was "lord of all Egypt," and so a figure of Christ. Now the Lordship of Christ is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all.
One writer sets this sale beside the claims God makes over the world:
As Joseph bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh, so the Lord Jesus has by His sacrifice at Calvary bought "the field" (Matt. 13:44), that is, the world (Matt. 13:38), so that in the millennial age it will be declared, "The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof" (Ps. 24:1). More than this, Joseph bought the people themselves, and God tells us in Ezekiel 14:8, "All souls are mine."
Egypt lost its fields. One writer turns that on the reader:
Our natural selfishness in thinking that what we have is strictly our own has been through the years a terrible harm to our own happiness. For nothing really belongs to us, as Israel will learn in a very practical way in the millennium. Let believers now remember that we are only stewards, put in charge of what belongs to our Lord, and responsible to give Him some return for all the goodness He shows us. Only this attitude will give true happiness.
- Hunger empties. Money, then cattle, then land, then the people themselves. Famine stripped Egypt of all it held, for "nothing brings a man down like hunger."
- Hunger is met. Egypt gave up its fields and received bread, because the people "had to go to Joseph to buy grain."
- The gain goes to the throne. Joseph bought the land "for Pharaoh" — supreme power used "not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh."
- The reach is total. Such claims are "without parallel in the history of the world." They picture a Lordship that is "of all and of every detail" — or nothing.
- The result is freedom. Claiming things as "strictly our own" only costs us happiness; we are "only stewards, put in charge of what belongs to our Lord."
And as for the people, he removed them into the cities, from [one] end of the borders of Egypt even to the [other] end of it.
Egypt's famine has emptied the people — money, livestock, land, and at last themselves. This verse tells what Joseph then did with a nation that now belonged to the throne: was it kindness or cruelty?
A note on the wording: the ESV says Joseph "made servants of them." Older translations say he moved the people into cities, from one end of Egypt to the other. The writers below follow that older wording.
This verse is the last step down. One writer traces each step:
First, Joseph uses his position of supremacy to bring everything into absolute subjection to himself. All the wealth of Egypt passes into his hands: "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan." Then when the money failed, Joseph claims their livestock. He said, "Give your livestock," and we read, "They brought their livestock to Joseph." Then the money was spent and the livestock gone. They say there is nothing left but "our bodies and our land," and so they add, "Buy us and our land for food."
One writer draws a lesson from it: "Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?" (L. M. Grant)
No other ruler has claimed so much — or claimed it without revolt:
Never, before or since, has any earthly king made such claims. Many a ruler has made crushing claims, but not one has ever dared to claim all in the manner of Joseph. Other rulers who made large claims on their subjects could not make them good. Some who tried provoked rebellion and revolution. Joseph, however, makes claims no one has ever made, and he makes them good. Not one voice is raised in rebellion.
Joseph took a whole nation and kept none of it for himself:
He gives the Egyptians their lives out of his storehouses. But he gathers their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves — all for Pharaoh. For himself he retains nothing but his place of honour and trust and service under the king... It is true that he settled the whole country by his own wisdom, moving the people into cities from one end of it to the other. But the land was still to yield its increase to Pharaoh and his throne.
Commentators differ. One calls the arrangement oppressive, and traces later trouble to it:
This was oppressive legislation indeed, but the sort of thing that was quite ordinary in those days. Over many years it may have helped to provoke the uprising of the ancient Egyptian dynasty. Scripture records it this way: "There arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph."
Another writer sees the same arrangement as fair to the people:
Joseph's administration would make the people more equal, and all would have at least enough for their needs... The people of Egypt said they were willing to be Joseph's slaves, but Joseph did not treat them like mere slaves.
The same writer who calls it oppressive still sees a picture of Christ in it:
This action of Joseph strikes us as oppressive. Perhaps the hardest part is his moving of the people from one end of the land to the other. Still, we cannot help thinking it has value as a picture. It shows how fully he was "lord of all Egypt," and so a figure of Christ. Now the Lordship of Christ is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all. As Lord He also subdues everything to God, and disposes of everything according to God's mind. A time will come "when all things are subjected to Him," and then God will be all in all. What the Lord Jesus brings to pass will involve judgment, but it will be for the lasting blessing of God's whole universe.
The people lost everything, and they were pleased. One writer reads that as a picture of a world bought back:
Their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves are made over to Pharaoh; and yet all pleases them, for they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt, in those days, was a sample of the new world, the world brought back to God by redemption. It was a "purchased possession"... It was creation reconciled, delivered from the doom of famine, from death and the curse, by the hand of a saviour.
- Emptied — The famine took Egypt's money, then its cattle, then its land. At last the people had only themselves to give.
- Bought — They gave themselves to a saviour. The land became "a purchased possession," creation delivered from famine and curse.
- Redirected — Joseph claimed everything and kept nothing. Every payment went to Pharaoh's house, and his power served another's glory.
- Disputed — Writers differ on the move into cities. One calls it oppressive, and traces a later uprising partly to it. Another says it left everyone with enough.
- Fulfilled — The scene pictures the Lordship of Christ, which "is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all." That Lordship ends in blessing for God's whole universe.
Only the land of the priests he did not buy; for the priests had an assigned portion from Pharaoh, and ate their assigned portion which Pharaoh had given them; so they did not sell their land.
During the famine, Egypt handed Pharaoh everything it had — money, livestock, land, and then the people themselves. One group alone kept its fields: why did the priests hold on to theirs, and what does that exception mean?
One commentator sees here the point where Egypt became Pharaoh's in the fullest sense. The priests stood outside it:
Now Joseph also brings all the land and all its people into full order, and into subjection to Pharaoh. The priests are excepted through privilege — they have their own portion. The land is now, in the fullest sense, the heritage and possession of Pharaoh, Lord alike of Goshen and of all. This closes at verse 26.
The priests had no reason to sell. Their support already came from the throne, and the famine changed nothing about it:
The land of the priests, however, was exempt from this order. Pharaoh already supported them, and nothing in this respect changed (v. 22).
These were not priests of the God of Israel. Their standing came from somewhere else:
The only exception was the priests. They held great power, because through their idol gods they were in touch with the supernatural.
That raises a problem. Joseph now ran the kingdom, and the state was paying priests who served idols. One writer suggests Joseph would not pay for idol worship, and would not starve the priests either:
From Genesis 47:22 we learn that the priesthood was a distinct class, and the State supported it. That is, the State set apart a revenue for them. But when Joseph became chief administrator of the kingdom, can we imagine him enforcing idolatry by law? No. Nor on the other hand would he leave the priests without food. So while they received state pay, they would not be allowed to worship idols in public. … His marriage to Asenath, the daughter of the chief priest of On, seems to support this.
The text itself does not say this. The writer offers it as the likely explanation.
Egypt's priests held land. God built Israel's priesthood on the opposite plan:
The special character of Jehovah's priesthood stands out, and so does its strong contrast with the other priesthoods of the day. The priests were not to take the land for themselves, as happened in Egypt. The priesthoods of the old world were unholy groups. They used their spiritual powers to increase their authority, their treasures, and their temples. More than that, they used them to enslave the souls, and at times the bodies, of the people… The priests of Jehovah were not set up as a class who, like the pagan priests, should lord it over others. They were to be His servants, acting for Him among men… Jehovah was the inheritance of His priests among the children of Israel.
Commentators differ on what the exception pictures. One looks ahead to the coming kingdom. There everything belongs to the throne, but one family holds its inheritance apart:
All but the land of the priests was bought and became part of Pharaoh's footstool. And so it will be in the coming kingdom. All shall belong to the footstool, but one family will hold their inheritance apart from it. They are the family related to Joseph in his Egypt, and to Jesus in heaven. They are to be kings and priests to God then, the heirs of the throne with Jesus.
Another applies it to believers now, setting the two groups in the chapter side by side:
God had not ordained these priests, yet they still picture the liberty that true believers in the Lord Jesus have today. The people stand for the sphere of government. The priests stand for the sphere where the Spirit of God works freely in grace. As priests of God, all believers today are not under bondage; grace makes full provision for them.
- Exception — All Egypt passed under Pharaoh. The priests alone were "excepted through privilege," keeping their own portion.
- Provision — They kept their portion for one plain reason. The State already paid them, so the famine never forced a sale.
- Tension — These priests served idols and held real power. One writer suggests Joseph kept their pay but stopped their public idol worship.
- Contrast — Israel's priests got the opposite portion. No land and no lording it over people — Jehovah Himself was their inheritance.
- Picture — Commentators read that portion held apart in two ways. It points to a family whose inheritance is not of the footstool, or to believers today who live in grace, not bondage.
And Joseph said to the people, Behold, I have bought you this day and your land for Pharaoh lo, here is seed for you, and sow the land.
The famine has taken Egypt's money, then its livestock, then its land. Joseph now tells the people that they and their fields belong to Pharaoh — and in the same breath he hands them seed to sow.
This verse is the last step in a long slide down. One writer lists what the famine took, then turns it on the reader:
The money went into Joseph's treasury. The cattle became his. The lands fell into his hand. And last of all, Joseph acquired the people themselves for Pharaoh. Nothing brings a man down like hunger… Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger, and it is a great thing when that hunger takes over, when a man feels that he is a sinner, and has need of Christ, and must have Christ.
Another draws the lesson out of the moment they surrendered themselves:
Now they ask Joseph to take their land and also make the people the property of Pharaoh. Are we not to learn from this that it is good for us to be brought down to nothing?
Joseph names the owner, and it is not himself. Everything he gathers, he passes on:
A second great fact is noticeable: in claiming all, Joseph does so for Pharaoh. If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). Again, if the land comes under Joseph's control, we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). So too of the people Joseph can say, "I have this day bought you and your land for Pharaoh." Joseph uses his supreme power, not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The same writer carries the point higher:
In all this Joseph is a striking picture of Christ in exaltation… If the Father has glorified the Son, it is so that the Son may glorify the Father. In His great prayer the Lord can say, "Father, the hour has come; glorify Your Son that the Son may glorify You" (John 17:1). Moreover if the Father is glorified, His people are blessed.
The second half of the verse changes how we read the first half. Ownership comes with a gift attached:
Joseph was not a cruel dictator who was seeking his own wealth by impoverishing the people. Some have strangely criticized the plan he carried out, but the people themselves appreciated it (v. 25). He had bought them and their land. Now he tells them he will give them seed to sow the land. For their labour they would receive four fifths of the crop.
Commentators differ. Another calls the same arrangement oppressive:
Bit by bit everything in Egypt fell into the hands of Pharaoh. Joseph made a law that the people must acknowledge Pharaoh's ownership by paying rent in produce — a fifth of everything the land grew. This was oppressive law indeed, but it was quite ordinary in those days.
What the people hand back each harvest means more than rent:
The people, bankrupt through the famine, receive back their lands from the generosity of the king. They return to him one fifth of what the land produces. That fifth is the token of their debt to the grace which has given them everything. Two tenths may remind us of the double claim of God upon us — by creation and by redemption. All the world shall own this in the day to come.
One writer reads Egypt's story forward, to a coming time of famine and trouble:
The famine in Egypt made the people the property of Pharaoh. In the same way, the great famine of the tribulation will make Jews and Gentiles see that they are really the property of the Lord Jesus, the King of kings. Because of their great trouble they will become more content and happy than they have ever been before. All the people of Egypt found the same blessing through the wisdom and kindness of Joseph.
The same writer turns this on the reader:
We are naturally selfish. We think that what we have is strictly our own, and through the years this has done terrible damage to our own happiness. For nothing really belongs to us… Let believers now remember that we are only stewards. We are put in charge of what belongs to our Lord, and we are responsible to give Him some return for all the goodness He shows to us. Only this attitude will give true happiness.
- Emptied — money, cattle, land, then themselves. One writer asks whether it is good for us to be brought down to nothing.
- Bought — Joseph claims everything, but he claims it for Pharaoh. His supreme power serves another's glory, not his own.
- Given — the sale comes with seed. Four fifths of the crop stays with the one who grows it.
- Owed — the fifth part paid back each year is the token of debt to the grace that gave them everything.
- Owned — nothing really belongs to us. We are stewards of what is our Lord's, and only that attitude gives true happiness.
And it shall come to pass in the increase that ye shall give the fifth to Pharaoh, and the four parts shall be your own, for seed of the field, and for your food, and for them of your households, and for food for your little ones.
The famine has taken Egypt's money, its livestock and at last its land. The people now stand before Joseph with nothing but their lives, and this verse sets the terms they will live by from here on.
The people had nothing left before this verse begins. Joseph gives them seed to sow, and the larger share of the crop stays with them.
Joseph was not a cruel dictator who was seeking his own wealth by impoverishing the people. Some have strangely criticized the plan he put into action, but the people themselves appreciated it (v. 25). He had bought them and their land. Now he tells them he will give them seed to sow the land. For their labor they would receive four fifths of the crop. This arrangement would work very well, but only on one condition. The rulers had to be fair-minded and considerate of the people, and the people had to act responsibly.
Pharaoh had already bought the land. The people get it back as a gift from the king, and the fifth they hand over each harvest marks what they owe.
The people are bankrupt through the famine. They receive their lands back from the king's bounty, and they give him one fifth of the crop. That fifth is the token of what they owe to the grace they have received. This is how the world, under Christ, will find its place in true blessing before God. The one fifth they hand back reminds us once more of the Abrahamic five — the weakness of the creature and the all-power of God — that one part being a recognition of divine sovereignty. If we take it as two tenths, it may remind us of the double claim of God upon us — by creation and by redemption.
Elsewhere in Scripture the number five stands for what a person owes to other people.
Ten is the number of responsibility towards God, as, for example, in the ten commandments (see also Exodus 30:13, etc.), and five is responsibility towards man. (See Gen. 47:24; Num. 5:7, etc.)
Commentators differ over how to judge the arrangement. One sees a settlement the people welcomed. Another reads the lasting rent as harsh, and traces a long result from it.
So bit by bit everything in Egypt fell into Pharaoh's hands. Joseph made a law that people must acknowledge Pharaoh's ownership by paying rent in kind — a fifth of all the produce. This was oppressive legislation indeed, but quite ordinary in those days. We can see how, over many years, it may have helped to provoke that uprising of the ancient Egyptian dynasty. Scripture records it like this: "Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph" (Ex. 1:8).
Read as a picture, Egypt under Joseph shows what the earth will look like when redemption has brought it back to God.
They hand over their money, their cattle, their lands and themselves to Pharaoh. Yet it all pleases them, for they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt, in those days, was a sample of the new world, the world brought back to God by redemption. It was a "purchased possession," just what the millennial earth is to be. Eph. 1:14. It was creation reconciled, delivered from the doom of famine, from death and the curse, by the hand of a saviour.
Notice who receives the fifth. Joseph claims everything, but never for himself.
A second great fact stands out: in claiming everything, Joseph claims it for Pharaoh. Joseph gathers up all the money, and we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). The land comes under Joseph's control, and we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). So too, of the people, Joseph can say, "Behold, I have this day bought you and your land for Pharaoh." So Joseph uses his supreme power not to advance himself, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The two aims are not rivals. One and the same power upholds the throne and blesses the people.
On the one hand, Joseph uses his power to bring everything under Pharaoh. On the other hand, he uses his complete supremacy to bless the people. Where Pharaoh's glory is upheld, the people's blessing is sure — but only as they submit to Joseph without holding anything back.
- Bankrupt. The people owned nothing when Joseph spoke these words. Pharaoh had already bought the land.
- Given. They receive seed and their fields back from the king's bounty, not by buying them.
- Owned. The fifth is the token of what they owe to the grace that saved them. It acknowledges God's sovereignty, and His double claim by creation and redemption.
- Kept. Four parts stay with them — seed, food, and bread for their households. They welcomed the terms, though some have judged them oppressive.
- Foreshadowed. Egypt settled under Joseph is a sample of the world brought back to God by redemption. There one power serves the throne's glory and the people's blessing at once.
And they said, Thou hast saved us alive. Let us find favour in the eyes of my lord, and we will be Pharaoh's bondmen.
The Egyptians have nothing left to trade for food, so they hand Joseph their land and themselves — and then thank him for it. How can people who have lost everything call their new place a kindness?
The Egyptians name Joseph as the one who kept them alive. The same note sounds again on a far larger scale.
And the One who has secured everything for the glory of God and the blessing of man will be the centre of heaven's praise. As in the days of old, those who had been blessed by Joseph come to Joseph saying, "You have saved our lives" (Gen. 47:25). They recognise that they owe everything to Joseph. So too the great crowd of the redeemed delight to say, "You are worthy … for You were slain, and have redeemed us to God by Your blood out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation."
Such a confession only comes after the famine has taken everything, step by step. One writer traces the stages through the chapter and reads them as a picture of what brings a person to Christ.
First, "Joseph gathered up all the money that was found in the land of Egypt" (Gen. 47:14). Second, he "fed them with bread in exchange for all their livestock" for that year (v. 17). Third, he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). And last, he says, "I have this day bought you" (v. 23). So you see the money fell into Joseph's coffers, the cattle became his, the lands fell into his hand. And finally Joseph acquired the people themselves for Pharaoh. Nothing brings a man down like hunger. Neither a man's pride nor his parentage can fill him in the day of hunger and need. … Nothing brings a man down like soul-hunger. It is a great thing when the soul-hunger becomes commanding, when a man feels that he is a sinner, and has need of Christ, and must have Christ.
Joseph has now brought all Egypt under one ruler. The people's own words show how they took that change.
Now Joseph brings all the land and all its inhabitants into full order and subjection to Pharaoh. They are now, in the fullest sense, the heritage and possession of Pharaoh, lord alike of Goshen and of all. … Though brought into order and subjection, it is really in blessing. "You have saved our lives; let us find grace in the sight of my lord," is the people's word — "we will be Pharaoh's servants."
(Older translations read "let us find grace in the sight of my lord" where the ESV has "may it please my lord.")
Some readers have faulted Joseph's policy. The people's own verdict in this verse answers them.
Joseph was not a cruel dictator who was seeking his own wealth by impoverishing the people. Some have strangely criticised the plan that he carried out, but the people themselves appreciated it (v. 25). He had bought them and their land. Now he tells them he will give them seed to sow the land. For their labour they would receive four fifths of the crop.
The Egyptians do not keep the whole harvest. What they hand back marks where their land came from.
The people, bankrupt through the famine, receive back their lands from the bounty of the king. They return him one fifth of the produce of the land. That fifth is the token of their debt to the grace from which they have received all. Two tenths may remind us of the double claim of God upon us — by creation and by redemption. All the world will own this in the day to come.
The people are content in their new place. One writer sees Egypt under Joseph as a small model of the earth under Christ's reign.
All the people are made willing in that day of his power. Their money, their cattle, their lands, and themselves, are made over to Pharaoh; and yet all pleases them, for they owe their lives to Joseph. Egypt, in those days, was a sample of the new world, the world brought back to God by redemption. It was a "purchased possession," just what the earth will be in the days of Christ's kingdom. … It was creation reconciled. A saviour's hand had delivered it from the doom of famine, from death and the curse.
- Emptied — hunger took their money, cattle, land, and at last themselves. Soul-hunger does the same work in anyone who must have Christ.
- Saved — their whole account of it is simple: Joseph gave them their lives back, and they owe him everything.
- Owned — they ask to belong to Pharaoh, and that subjection turns out to be blessing, not loss.
- Provided — Joseph gave them seed and left them four fifths of the harvest. The fifth they gave back was their token of a debt to grace.
- Pictured — a saviour's hand bought this land back from famine and curse. It is a sample of the earth under Christ, where willing people own God's double claim of creation and redemption.
And Joseph made it a law over the land of Egypt to this day, [that] the fifth should be for Pharaoh, except the land of the priests theirs alone did not become Pharaoh's.
Joseph's famine plan ends with a law that outlived him. A fifth of every harvest went to Pharaoh, and only the priests' land was left out. Was the rule harsh or kind? And why does Joseph's rise end with a tax law?
The law was the last step in a long process. Joseph set the terms of what came after.
So bit by bit everything in Egypt fell into Pharaoh's hands. Joseph made a law that the people must acknowledge Pharaoh's ownership by paying rent in kind — a fifth of all the produce. This was oppressive legislation indeed, but the sort of thing that was quite ordinary in those days. We can see how over many years it may have helped to provoke that uprising of the ancient Egyptian dynasty. Scripture records it this way: "Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph." (Ex. 1:8).
Commentators differ. Another writer looks at what the farmer kept, not at what he paid.
Joseph was not a cruel dictator seeking his own wealth by impoverishing the people. Some have strangely criticised the plan he carried out, but the people themselves appreciated it (v. 25). He had bought them and their land. Now he tells them he will give them seed to sow the land. For their labour they would receive four fifths of the crop. This arrangement would work remarkably well. But it depended on rulers who were fair-minded and considerate of the people, and on people who acted responsibly.
Joseph held total power. Notice who he used it for.
In claiming all, Joseph does so for Pharaoh. If Joseph gathers up all the money, we read that he "brought the money into Pharaoh's house" (v. 14). If the land comes under Joseph's control, we read that he "bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh" (v. 20). So too of the people Joseph can say, "I have bought you this day and your land for Pharaoh." Joseph uses his supreme power not for his own advancement, but for the glory of Pharaoh.
The fifth was more than a tax. It pointed back to how the people got their land in the first place.
The people, bankrupt through the famine, receive back their lands from the bounty of the king. They return to him one fifth of the produce of the land. That fifth is the token of their debt to the grace from which they have received all. Two tenths may remind us of the double claim of God upon us — by creation and by redemption. All the world shall own this in the day to come.
The verse names a single group outside the law. Their exemption has been read as a picture of a different kind of standing altogether.
The land of the priests was exempt from this decree. Pharaoh already supported them, and nothing changed in this respect (v. 22). These were not priests ordained by God. Yet they still picture the liberty that true believers in the Lord Jesus have today. The people illustrate the sphere of government. The priests speak of the sphere where the Spirit of God works freely in grace. As priests of God, all saints today are not under bondage; grace makes full provision for them.
That exemption points forward to the age to come:
Pharaoh bought all the land except the land of the priests, and it became part of his footstool. And so in the coming kingdom: all shall be of the footstool, except the inheritance of that family who have been related to Joseph in his Egypt, to Jesus in heaven. They are then to be kings and priests to God, heirs of the throne with Jesus, with their inheritance apart from the footstool.
Whatever we make of the policy, its shape points beyond Egypt.
Though this action of Joseph strikes us as oppressive, we cannot but think it has a typical value. It shows how fully he was "lord of all Egypt," and so a figure of Christ. Now the Lordship of Christ is absolute, for if He is not Lord of all and of every detail, He is not Lord at all. As Lord He subdues everything to God and disposes of everything according to the Divine mind.
Notice how the Egyptians took it.
I cannot but observe the willing, unmurmuring subjection which the Egyptians yield to Joseph. He moves them here and there, and settles them as he likes, but all is welcome to them; and so, in the days of the kingdom, the whole world will be ready to say, Jesus has done all things well. What blessedness! Subjection to Jesus, but willing and glad subjection!
- Famine emptied Egypt. The people lost money and land, and Joseph set the terms of what came next.
- Grace gave the land back. The fifth was the token of what the people owed the king's bounty.
- Four fifths stayed with the farmer. That is why commentators differ over whether the law was harsh or generous.
- Priests alone stood outside the law, already provided for — a picture of believers who serve by grace, not bondage.
- Christ is the Joseph in view: Lord of every detail, using all power for another's glory, and welcomed rather than resented.
And Israel dwelt in the land of Egypt, in the land of Goshen; and they had possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied exceedingly.
Seventy famine refugees came into Egypt, and this verse reports what happened next. God was keeping His promise to make them a nation. But the same verse raises a question the commentators press: what happens to God's people when a foreign country starts to feel like home?
The growth here is God keeping a word He gave long before. The numbers make the point.
So Jacob went from Beersheba into Goshen, the eastern part of the land of Egypt... We are given a list of sons and grandsons, and told their number was seventy. If we turn to Exodus 12:37, we shall see the great increase that took place while they were in Egypt. It shows how God fulfilled His word about making them a great nation.
Where they settled mattered as much as how much they grew. Goshen kept them separate, and commentators trace that arrangement back to God, not to Pharaoh's kindness.
It is easy to see how this suited God's purpose. His purpose was to make a nation of them, free from any mixture of foreign blood. They lived under Egyptian rule, but from the start there was to be a dividing line between them and the Egyptians... Remember that Egypt, along with the rest of the world, was in the middle of a great famine. Such favourable treatment was truly extraordinary. The only way to account for it is the moving of God's hand behind the scenes.
The result was a people who increased inside Egypt without becoming Egyptian.
At this time Jacob's family clearly did not come under the same bondage as the Egyptians. Pharaoh had given them land and Joseph had supplied their food (vv. 11-12). They grew and multiplied greatly. Egyptian culture did not absorb them; they kept their identity as the children of Israel.
Read this verse against the paragraph just before it and the contrast is sharp. Around Goshen, the famine was stripping Egypt bare.
Joseph's father and brothers now had the best of the land and were provided for there. We turn next to the state of things among the Egyptians in verses 13-26. As the dreams had foretold, the famine grew worse and worse. The people were fed, but not like those in Goshen. They had to buy their food from Joseph, who acted for Pharaoh. They brought their money, and when that ran out their cattle, and when those ran out they had to sell their land.
Property, growth and safety are real mercies. They also make leaving unthinkable. Joseph's dying words about Israel's departure come against exactly this background.
No man had ever held such power or such a place of worldly glory as Joseph in Egypt. Yet when he is dying, all the glory of this world fades from his sight. Instead of looking back to the past glories of Egypt, Joseph is looking on to the coming glories of Israel. At that moment it looked very unlikely that Israel would ever leave Egypt. They had settled down in Goshen and, as we read, "they gained possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied greatly." But faith saw that a hundred and fifty years later Israel would be rescued out of Egypt and enter their own promised land. So faith gave commands with their departure in view.
Jacob lived out these comfortable years himself. Everything around him invited him to settle down and forget the land God had promised.
How well Jacob lived with his heart set on Canaan, surrounded by all the attractions of Egypt... His heart was satisfied in getting Joseph back. His circumstances were prosperous and flattering. He saw his family flourishing around him, and his long-lost Joseph second in the kingdom. At evening time there was light indeed.
But his faith won through. Nothing moved him — not memories of sorrows or disappointments or disasters or disgraces in Canaan, and not present possessions of honour and wealth and happiness in Egypt. The promise lived and ruled in his heart.
- Promise. Seventy people go down; a nation comes out. The increase in Goshen is God keeping His word to make them great.
- Provision. Joseph's care feeds them while Egypt spends money, cattle and land to survive. One famine, two very different footings.
- Preservation. Goshen keeps them together and unmixed. Commentators trace that separation to God's hand behind Pharaoh's favour.
- Possession. Gaining property is where the danger hides. Comfort in Egypt made a future departure look impossible.
- Pilgrimage. Faith still counted on the promised land — in Joseph's dying orders, and in Jacob, whom Egypt's best years never moved.
And Jacob lived in the land of Egypt seventeen years; and the days of Jacob, the years of his life, were a hundred and forty-seven years.
Genesis ends its account of Joseph with a quiet piece of arithmetic: Jacob came to Egypt at 130 and lived seventeen more years there. Those years raise a question the chapter never asks — what was God doing with an old man who had stopped travelling and scheming?
The number 147 only means something when set beside the other lifespans Genesis records.
Jacob remained there until his death seventeen years after his arrival in Egypt. So his age at death was 147 years, not as long as the ages of Abraham (175) or Isaac (180), but longer than Joseph (110). See Genesis 25:7; Genesis 35:28; and Genesis 50:26.
The number is not random. It answers seventeen earlier years in Joseph's own life.
For the first seventeen years of Joseph's life his father Jacob cared for him. Now, with beautiful fitness, the son gives tender care to his aged father through the last seventeen years of that father's life (Gen. 47:28). At the end of this period we reach the last and brightest stage of Jacob's varied path. The calm of his dying hours stands in bright contrast to the stormy life in which he had followed his crooked and self-willed way.
The chapter records nothing of these seventeen years. That silence is the point.
The glory is hidden in an earthen vessel, but it is there, and the vessel knows it is there. Jacob does nothing in those Egypt-years of his to make history for the world. He takes no part in its changes. Its interests and progress mean nothing to him. He is at the disposal of others, taking what they may give him, and being what they may make him. But he knows a secret that lifts his spirit above them. Others may flourish in Egypt; he only spends the remnant of his days there.
An old man with nothing to do can rust. One writer sees the opposite here — a field under the plough.
I stand in admiration of this way of the Lord, of the Spirit of God, with Jacob. Such an end as this now is suited such a life as his had been. It is a poor thing that we should need such a pause at the end of the journey. But if we do need it, it is beautiful to see it bear fruit like this. Those seventeen years in Egypt were a long cultivation of his soul under "the Father of spirits." How often, I dare to suppose, did Jacob sit before the Lord and go back over the past years with shame on his face. Then the fire would kindle, and the refiner's work would go on.
Goshen was good pasture. For Jacob the gain was not in the soil. It outran even Bethel and Peniel, the two places where he had met God before.
Jacob's last days were his golden days. To others, and to their flocks and herds, Egypt was a land of Goshen. It was not so to Jacob's flocks and herds, for we do not read that he had any. Egypt was a Goshen to Jacob's soul, the very richest, fairest, best-watered land his spirit had ever enjoyed. It was more the gate of heaven to him than Bethel had been. It was more the face of God to him than Peniel had been. He had the Lord with him there in secret and in silence, but in real, living power.
Commentators differ here. One writer takes the need for such a pause as a verdict on the life that came before.
Jacob had seventeen years in Egypt before he was called away; Paul was called up while still at work. (2 Tim. 4) It is a bad sign about a person's earlier ways when they need a pause like Jacob's in Egypt.
From here the record changes. The man who had schemed for every blessing stops arranging his own future.
From the time we found Jacob in the land of Goshen — Genesis 47:27 — to the finish, we see him acting and speaking as a man of faith. He had reached Joseph, but not by his own scheming, clever or otherwise. He got there as the fruit of God's wonderful intervention. The storms of his life were over and he had sailed into a haven of rest. The eye of his faith had been cleared of mist and dimness, and God was fully in view in the certainty of His promise and His power.
- Counted — 147 years: shorter than Abraham's and Isaac's, longer than Joseph's.
- Returned — Jacob cared for Joseph for seventeen years; now Joseph cares for Jacob for seventeen years.
- Emptied — Jacob makes no history in Egypt and takes no part in its affairs. He lives instead on a secret that lifts his spirit above it all.
- Cultivated — the silence is not rust but refining. Egypt became the brightest, richest ground his soul had known.
- Warned — one writer reads the need for such a pause as a poor sign of earlier ways. Paul went straight from his work.
And the days of Israel approached that he should die. And he called his son Joseph, and said to him, If now I have found favour in thine eyes, put, I pray thee, thy hand under my thigh, and deal kindly and truly with me bury me not, I pray thee, in Egypt;
Seventeen years after arriving in Egypt, Jacob is dying, and what he asks of his most powerful son is not money or position but a grave. Why does a dying man care so much about where his body lies?
Jacob's last years in Egypt were quiet. The request that ends them reaches back to a land promised to his family long before.
In the closing verses of our chapter we return to Jacob in the land of Goshen. Seventeen more years rolled over him. He lived on until the dreadful years of famine were only an unpleasant memory. Then the time came that he had to die. He was Jacob indeed, but he spoke as Israel when he took a vow from Joseph. Joseph was not to bury him in Egypt, but to lay his body with those of his fathers in the land which was theirs by promise.
Jacob asks for a strange gesture — a hand placed under his thigh. The promise it sealed fixed on one piece of ground.
As Jacob knew he was nearing his end, he called for Joseph. He asked him to put his hand under his thigh — clearly a symbol of his willingness to do as his father asked of him (v. 29). Jacob wants to be sure that he is not buried in Egypt, but in the burial place of his fathers in Canaan. This was the land of promise, the land God had sworn to give to the seed of Abraham (Gen. 15:7), confirming it to Isaac (Gen. 26:3) and also to Jacob himself (Gen. 28:13). Jacob and his children are not to forget their homeland.
Abraham had used the same solemn ceremony once before, when he sent his servant to find a bride for Isaac. Jacob now asks it of the son whose glory lay in Egypt.
The time drew near for Israel to die. So he called Joseph. With the same solemnity Abraham used in sending Eliezer for Isaac's bride, he made Joseph not only promise but swear to carry his body out of Egypt and bury it in the burial place of his fathers. Joseph's splendour did not in the least draw his heart away from the land of promise.
For seventeen years Jacob took whatever Egypt gave him without a word. Then he came to the matter of his burial.
But when these silent and retired years are about to close, we find him suddenly stirring and earnest. It has to do with Joseph and his burial. He will have Joseph not only promise, but swear, that he will bury him in the land of his fathers. We never find him urgent about the conditions of his life in Egypt. He seems willing to take what they give him and to be what they make him. But about his burial he is now all urgency and decision. He is earnest and insistent now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to see its claim clear, full, and unbreakable.
Jacob's urgency makes sense only if death gave him something Egypt could not.
Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt, death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
A grave seems a poor way to hold a promise. Jacob counted on God being the same God after his death as before it.
He desired only to take possession of the land of Canaan, by death, as Abraham and Isaac had done (Gen. 47:29-31). God is the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac. He is still in covenant with them. He has never dissolved His relationship with them, but is unchangeable towards them in it. Jacob had faith in God. Death would not dissolve his relationship to God, even "the God of Bethel." Like his fathers, he "died in faith, not having received the things promised" (Heb. 11:13). But he had so embraced them that he could count on God making all good in resurrection.
- Dying — Jacob knows the end is near. He speaks as Israel, and asks for a grave instead of anything Egypt could give.
- Swearing — the hand under the thigh carried the same solemnity Abraham had used. Faith wants its claim clear, full, and unbreakable.
- Refusing — for seventeen years he took whatever Egypt gave him without a word. He would not let Egypt keep his body.
- Crossing — life kept him in Egypt. Death would restore him to Canaan, and link him with the God and the promise of his fathers.
- Rising — he never owned the land while he lived. He took hold of it by burial, counting on God to make every promise good in resurrection.
but when I shall lie with my fathers, thou shalt carry me out of Egypt, and bury me in their sepulchre. And he said, I will do according to thy word.
Jacob has lived seventeen years in Egypt, and now his strength is failing. The one thing he presses on his powerful son is not property or family standing. It is where his body will lie. Why should an old man care so much where he is buried — and why turn a son's promise into a sworn oath?
Jacob had been easy-going about everything else in Egypt. On this one point he would not give way.
But these silent, retired years are about to close. All at once we find him stirring and earnest. It is with Joseph, about his burial. He will have Joseph not only promise, but swear, that he will bury him in the land of his fathers... He is earnest and insistent now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to read its title clear, full, and secure.
The place he names matters because of the land it lies in. God had sworn that land to his family.
Jacob wants to be sure that he is not buried in Egypt, but in the burial place of his fathers in Canaan. This was the land of promise. God had sworn to give it to the seed of Abraham (Genesis 15:7), confirming it to Isaac (Genesis 26:3) and also to Jacob himself (Genesis 28:13). Jacob and his children are not to forget their homeland.
The verse calls him Jacob. One writer hears Israel in the request, and points to how Joseph answered.
He was Jacob indeed, but he spoke as Israel when he drew a vow from Joseph. Joseph must not bury him in Egypt. He must lay his body with those of his fathers, in the land which was theirs by promise. Joseph readily agreed for, as we shall see, he too had the same faith. They had received the promises and believed them.
Joseph's high place could have settled Jacob's heart in Egypt. It did not.
He made Joseph not only promise but swear to carry his body out of Egypt and bury it in the burial-place of his fathers. Joseph's splendour did not in the least turn his heart away from the land of promise. There he would be laid, as his spirit waited for the King of glory and the kingdom.
The years in Egypt left no mark on him that the world could point to.
Jacob does nothing in those Egypt-years of his, to make history for the world. He takes no part in its changes. Its interests and progress are lost on him. He is at the disposal of others, taking what they may give him and being what they may make him. But he knows a secret that lifts his spirit above them. Others may flourish in Egypt, he only spends the rest of his days there.
Living, Jacob was stuck in Egypt. Dying was his only way back to Canaan.
Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt, death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
Jacob asks to lie with his fathers. That ties him to men who died still waiting for what God had said.
Here we have the vow which Jacob draws from Joseph — that he shall be buried in Canaan, in the tomb of his fathers. He links himself with them as waiting, even in death, for the promise to be fulfilled. So the promise is a promise of life which death cannot defeat or undo.
The same care runs right through the family. Machpelah was the tomb where they laid their dead.
The patriarchs of the Jewish family all put special value on their dead bodies. They were carefully laid up in Machpelah. This care and zeal of theirs was the confession of their sure and certain hope of resurrection. But they connected resurrection with the land of Canaan. And so Jacob and Joseph, who died in Egypt, arranged that their bones should be carried over and laid in Canaan. This tells us that their hope of resurrection was the same as their hope of finally possessing the promised land.
- Promise. God had sworn the land to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Jacob's dying request holds God to His own word.
- Oath. Jacob will not rest the matter on goodwill. Faith wants its claim clear and secure, so he made his son swear.
- Refusal. Jacob took what Egypt gave him and was indifferent to it. Joseph's splendour never turned his heart from the land of promise.
- Reversal. Life kept him in Egypt; death would carry him home — so death mattered more to him than life.
- Resurrection. A body carried out of Egypt is a claim staked in hope: the promise is a promise of life that death cannot undo.
And he said, Swear to me; and he swore to him. And Israel worshipped on the bed's head.
An old man in Egypt arranges his own funeral, and the arrangement turns into worship. Jacob makes Joseph swear to bury him in Canaan, then bows — and Hebrews 11 looks back at that bow as the high point of his faith.
This is not sentiment about a family grave. Jacob refuses to let Egypt become the resting place of a family God had promised a land.
Jacob wants to be sure that he is not buried in Egypt, but in the burial place of his fathers in Canaan. This was the land of promise, the land God had sworn to give to the seed of Abraham, confirming it to Isaac and also to Jacob himself. Jacob and his children are not to forget their homeland.
A promise between father and son would have been enough. Jacob wants an oath — and he had asked for nothing else in all his years in Egypt.
We never find him urgent about the conditions of his life in Egypt. He seems willing to take what they give him and to be what they make him. But as to his burial, he is all urgency and decision. He will have it confirmed by an oath: his son will carry his dead body to the land where God made him the promise. He is earnest and firm now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to read its title clear, full, and beyond dispute.
Hebrews 11 describes the same moment, but says he bowed over the head of his staff, not his bed. Commentators differ on which reading is right. One answer keeps both records.
The Hebrew and the Greek differ only in the vowel marks. One word means a staff, the other a bed, and both come from the same root. There is no reason to doubt the accuracy of the "bed" in the Old Testament, nor of the "staff" in the New Testament. The staff was in his hand while he bowed himself down upon the bed's head.
Others take staff as the right reading in Genesis too:
This would appear to be the correct reading. The Greek Old Testament has it so, and so does the Apostle in Hebrews 11… The staff is a picture of the word of God, the support and defence of the soul. This small action of Jacob's must matter, or we would not have it recorded twice… The fact is that now Jacob returns to the simplicity of entire dependence on God. While he was prosperous he had said that he set out and crossed the Jordan with only his staff, and that he had gained great wealth since. Now he is going to leave it all and come back to the bare staff; leaning on that alone he worships God.
The staff in his hand is not borrowed from Joseph. It carries his own history.
There is not the least ground for making the rod or staff to be Joseph's. It was Jacob's. He had once crossed the Jordan with this staff as a poor outcast, as he tells us himself. He said so when he came back with two companies and was afraid of Esau. Now, in Egypt, before Joseph and his sons, the dying pilgrim leans on the staff that had been the companion of his own weary wanderings. He worships the God whose faithfulness he had proved all the way through.
Jacob's story is full of scheming and shortcuts. The bowing at the bed's head is where that ends.
With the goodness of God filling his soul… he has reached the highest moment in his spiritual life — he is a worshipper. We know from the Holy Spirit's comment in Hebrews 11 that this was the crowning act of faith in Jacob's life… The scheming, the taking of another's place, the selfishness and the independence that so often spoiled his path had passed away. At last faith, dependence and worship mark Jacob.
Even the way he leaned carries a lesson.
Why did he lean on the top of his staff? Because he could not hold himself up without support; he had learned to be dependent. He went off the scene worshipping, and his death was bright, even if his life was not. We should all take a lesson from this, and seek to live brightly for Christ… People sometimes ask, "How did he die?" But I want to know, "How did he live?"
- Promise — Jacob refuses an Egyptian grave. God had sworn Canaan to Abraham, to Isaac and to him, and Jacob's burial claims that promise.
- Oath — he took whatever Egypt gave him, but on this one thing he is urgent. Faith wants its title clear and beyond dispute.
- Staff — Genesis says bed and Hebrews says staff, and both are true. The staff is his own, the companion of his wanderings, and he ends life holding nothing else.
- Dependence — he leans because he cannot stand alone. The schemer has become a man who rests wholly on God.
- Worship — this bow is the crowning act of faith in his life. A stormy history ends with Jacob as a worshipper.
And it came to pass after these things, that one told Joseph, Behold, thy father is sick. And he took with him his two sons Manasseh and Ephraim.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And one told Jacob and said, Behold, thy son Joseph is coming to thee. And Israel strengthened himself, and sat upon the bed.
A sick old man hears that Joseph has come, and he pulls himself upright in bed for the last great act of his life. Two questions follow. Where does a man at the end of his strength find any strength? And why does the record call him Jacob in one half of the sentence and Israel in the other?
Jacob's other sons were in Egypt too, yet none of them is at the bedside. Commentators read this as deliberate.
When he hears that his father is ill, Joseph comes to his bedside, bringing his two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, with him. None of the other sons of Jacob are present. The Spirit of God, through Jacob, has a special business with Joseph.
That business is the birthright. Reuben, the eldest, had lost his place, and this chapter settles who gets it.
The birthright might have been either sold or forfeited by the firstborn himself. His own acts might take it away, though his father's favouritism or prejudice could not. And we find this happened. Esau sold it, and Reuben forfeited it... But in the case of the forfeiture by Reuben, who is to take it? It reverted to the father; but on which of the sons would he confer it? That was the question, and this chapter answers it.
The sitting up costs him something. His body is failing and his sight is going. That is where his whole trust moves onto God.
Jacob — the man of nature — is weakened by age and sickness. The world he had clung to so tightly is fast fading from his view, his eyes being dim because of age (verse 10). But his natural strength weakens and his natural sight grows dim. Everything earthly is fast slipping from his grasp. In that hour he rises above the loss of all earthly joys and finds in God his only trust and unfailing resource.
So his weakest hour is his strongest.
We must not pass over the reference to this chapter in Hebrews 11:21. Dying, Jacob was stronger in faith than in all the vigour of his life, tried and energetic as it had been. It was then that by faith he blessed each of the sons of Joseph above nature's thoughts.
The message comes to Jacob. The man who sits up is Israel. Writers say this change of name carries meaning.
Now, we know there is nothing in Scripture without its own specific meaning, and so this interchange of names carries some instruction. In general it may be said that "Jacob" sets out the depth to which God had descended; "Israel," the height to which Jacob was raised.
The name Israel means "prince of God," and from this point in the story it fits him.
Dying, dependent, and with the "Fruitful" man filling his mind's eye, he became a worshipper. He rose at last, as the fruit of God's discipline, to what really was God's purpose for him. It is worth noticing that all through Genesis 48 he is named Israel, for he was displaying the marks of "a prince of God" at last.
Hebrews 11 also looks back at this scene, and there Jacob worships leaning on his staff, not sitting on a bed. The Septuagint is the old Greek translation of the Old Testament, and it reads staff where the Hebrew reads bed. One writer shows how both are true.
He worshipped on the top of his staff, clearly leaning on it in his weakness. Remarkably, this act came before the blessing of his grandsons, and Genesis 47:31 records it as the Septuagint gives that verse. No doubt both the Hebrew "bed" and the Septuagint's "staff" are alike true; and the Septuagint gives "bed" in Genesis 48:2.
Once seated, he does not talk about Egypt, his sickness, or his years. He goes back to where God first met him, and to what God promised.
Jacob gathered his strength to sit on the bed. Then Jacob speaks to Joseph of God's first recorded appearance to him at Luz (or Bethel) in Canaan. There God gave him His special blessing, promising to multiply him into a multitude of people and to give that land to his descendants for an everlasting possession (vv. 3-4). Jacob was therefore not interested in any other land on earth.
- Sickness starts it. A father's illness brings Joseph and his two sons to the bedside. No other brother is there. The Spirit of God has particular business with Joseph.
- Strength is summoned. He must brace his own body upright, yet his faith is stronger than in all his vigorous years. When nature is weakest, God is his only resource.
- The name lifts. Told the news as Jacob, he sits up as Israel. Jacob marks how far God stooped; Israel, how high God raised him. That name runs through the rest of the chapter.
- The promise reaches back. The first thing he says from that bed is not about Egypt. It is about Luz, where God promised the land to his descendants for ever.
- The blessing goes forward. Propped on the bed, he settles a forfeited birthright. Hebrews points back to this scene, where his faith was stronger than in all his vigorous years.
And Jacob said to Joseph, The Almighty God appeared to me at Luz in the land of Canaan, and blessed me,
Jacob is dying in Egypt, far from the land God promised him. Joseph comes to his bedside with two grandsons, and the old man's first words reach back decades — to Luz, where God Almighty met him. Why does a dying man begin there, and why does he name God by that particular title?
As everything else slips away, the old scene returns to him.
Age and sickness have weakened Jacob — the man of nature. The world he had clung to so tightly is fast fading from his view, his eyes dim because of age. But the strength of nature fails, and natural sight grows dim. When all earthly things are fast slipping from his grasp, he rises above the loss of every earthly joy. In God he finds his only trust and unfailing resource. That is why his mind travels back to that great moment. At the start of his pilgrim path, God Almighty appeared to him at Luz in the land of Canaan.
That journey began with a man fleeing for his life after deceiving his father. Jacob leaves all of that unmentioned.
He is not now concerned with his failures — with deceiving his father, or with having to flee from the anger of his outraged brother. These were very sorrowful and serious matters. But he felt in his soul the presence of God, and all that it brought to him pushed into the background all that he was in himself. He still had to suffer under God's government for his sins. Yet the blessing of God in grace had triumphed over all that he was naturally, and this was what filled his heart as he spoke to Joseph.
God first made Himself known by this title to Abraham.
This name first appears in Genesis 17:1: the LORD appeared to Abram and said to him, "I am God Almighty" — that is, EL SHADDAI. The word El is said to mean strength, or omnipotence. Some think Shaddai means the same thing, while others prefer the rendering all-sufficient, or self-sufficiency. Either way, the two words together carry divine attributes. Omnipotence and all-sufficiency are found in God alone. These two words are used, for example, when God said to Moses, "I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, as God Almighty, but by my name the LORD I did not make myself known to them" (Exodus 6:2-3).
So Abraham, Isaac and Jacob knew God by His power and all-sufficiency before He made His name the LORD known. The title also fits the life God called Abraham to live:
God revealed Himself to Abraham as "the Almighty" (El Shaddai). God called Abraham to be a pilgrim, with none but God to look to, so He revealed Himself to him as the "All Powerful One."
Jacob names the place where God met him. He came there with nothing.
Happy pilgrim! The "staff" he leaned on led his soul back to Luz. And what was Jacob at Luz? Nothing but a houseless, homeless, destitute wanderer. Yet for him, in those circumstances, Luz becomes Bethel — the house of God. There God found Jacob. God blessed him as a pilgrim who had nothing but his "staff." As Jacob received the blessing, so now he gives it to both the sons of Joseph. Jacob had no claim on God for a blessing.
Writers take the switch between his two names as deliberate.
Someone told Jacob, "Your son Joseph has come to you," and Israel summoned his strength and sat up in bed. Then it immediately says, "And Jacob said to Joseph…" We know there is nothing in Scripture without its specific meaning. So this interchange of names contains some instruction. In general, we may say that "Jacob" shows the depth to which God had descended; "Israel," the height to which Jacob was raised.
The blessing at Luz reached far beyond Jacob himself.
Jacob speaks to Joseph of God's first recorded appearance to him at Luz (or Bethel) in Canaan. There God gave him His special blessing. He promised to multiply him into a multitude of people, and to give that land to his descendants for an everlasting possession. Jacob was therefore not interested in any other land on earth.
Scripture points to this scene as an example of faith.
Hebrews 11 singles out one event in Jacob's life as an example of the faith that was in him: his blessing of the sons of Joseph… It is striking how at once Jacob went back to the moment when he first came into contact with God. He remembered the blessing granted then and repeated the promises made then in a way that shows he received them by faith.
- Beginning. At the end of his life Jacob goes back to the beginning — the night God Almighty met him at Luz.
- Nothing. At Luz he was a homeless runaway with no claim on God. The blessing came as a gift.
- Almighty. The name El Shaddai means power and all-sufficiency — the right name for a man with nothing but God to look to.
- Grace. He leaves his scheming and failure unmentioned. What fills his heart is the blessing that triumphed over what he was.
- Forward. Resting on that promise, the dying man hands the same blessing on to Joseph's sons — and Hebrews 11 calls it faith.
and he said to me, Behold, I will make thee fruitful and multiply thee, and I will make of thee a company of peoples; and will give this land to thy seed after thee [for] an everlasting possession.
Old and nearly blind in Egypt, Jacob calls Joseph to his bedside and begins with what God said to him at Luz, decades earlier. The words he repeats promise descendants and a land he no longer lives in, and a dying man stakes everything on them.
Jacob's memory skips everything in between. It lands on the one moment when God made him a promise with no conditions.
His natural strength is failing and his sight is dim. Everything on earth is slipping fast from his grasp. Yet he rises above the loss of all earthly joys, and finds in God his only trust and unfailing resource. So his mind travels back to that great moment at the start of his pilgrim path. God Almighty appeared to him at Luz in the land of Canaan. There He blessed him, and gave the land to his descendants for an everlasting possession, on the ground of unconditional promise.
What he leaves out of the story is as telling as what he puts in.
He is not now concerned with his failures, with the deceiving of his father and with having to flee from the anger of his outraged brother. These were very sorrowful and solemn matters. But he felt the presence of God in his soul, and all that this brought him pushed into the background all that he was in himself.
Jacob does not just say that God appeared. He names Him as God Almighty — a title that runs through the whole family history.
The Name of the Almighty assured Abraham that God would certainly do all He had promised. Isaac blessed Jacob in the Name of the Almighty (Gen. 28:3). When God changed Jacob's name to Israel, He said, "I am God Almighty… The land that I gave to Abraham and Isaac I will give to you" (Gen. 35:9–12). Jacob uses the Name of the Almighty in Genesis 43:14; 48:3 and 49:25, because he knew the almighty power of Him who had blessed him despite all his failures.
Jacob has spent his last years in Egypt, yet the only land he names is the one he left.
Jacob speaks to Joseph of God's first recorded appearance to him at Luz, or Bethel, in Canaan (Gen. 28:11-15). God blessed him there, and promised to multiply him into a multitude of people and to give that land to his descendants for an everlasting possession (vv. 3-4). Jacob was therefore not interested in any other land on earth. Though he would himself be in heaven and have no part of the earthly inheritance, he cared deeply about the welfare of his descendants.
Israel did hold Canaan for a time and then lost it. Commentators say this cannot be what "everlasting" means.
God gave the land to the descendants of Abraham "forever," or as it is put elsewhere, "for an everlasting possession." That this was not the case with Israel's possession of Canaan is certain. But has the Lord forgotten His promise? Or are we to assume that the promise was not meant for Israel? So far from it. He says also: "Then I will remember My covenant with Jacob, and I will remember My covenant with Isaac and My covenant with Abraham, and I will remember the land." The conditional and temporary possession enjoyed by Israel is not, therefore, the fulfilment of the covenant with the fathers.
The phrase here differs from the one Jacob uses later over Ephraim.
It is well to note the peculiarity of the phrase in verse 19 — not "a multitude of peoples" but "a fulness of nations." The old Greek translation is loose in verse 4, where it gives "congregations of nations" instead of "an assembly of peoples." In contrast with Judah and Benjamin, who had a distinct place, all the rest of the tribes fell under Ephraim as Israel.
The promise is not nostalgia. It is the ground for what Jacob does next with Joseph's two sons.
But if there is blessing on the ground of promise secured to Jacob's seed, then Jacob can claim a blessing for Joseph's sons. Jacob can say, "they shall be mine." He claims them as his seed and therefore as the heirs to the inheritance.
- Promise first. Jacob rests on what God promised at Luz with no conditions attached — not on anything he did later.
- Promise unstained. His failures are real, but they drop into the background; the promise he repeats is untouched by them.
- Promise guaranteed. He names the Almighty — the title that assured this family that God would do all He said.
- Promise unspent. Israel's short hold on Canaan never fulfilled the words "everlasting possession." The covenant still stands.
- Promise applied. The promise secures the inheritance to Jacob's descendants, so he can take Joseph's two sons as his own and give them a share in it.
And now thy two sons, who were born to thee in the land of Egypt before I came to thee into Egypt, shall be mine Ephraim and Manasseh shall be mine, as Reuben and Simeon.
Jacob is near the end of his life in Egypt. Joseph brings in his two half-Egyptian sons, and the old man takes them into his own family as if he had fathered them. One sentence changes the inheritance of Israel. It also raises a question: how do boys with no natural claim end up in the place of the firstborn?
Jacob's words are legal language. The boys' mother was Egyptian, so they stood outside the line of promise until the old man's word brought them in.
He then adopts the sons of Joseph. He had to, if they were to have the rights of children. In a real legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would in its day have put away (Ezra 10:3). But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family... They become the seed of Abraham and children of Jacob. Once that is done, Jacob at once sets them in the place of the firstborn.
Everything Jacob has to give rests on a promise God made to his line.
But if blessing rests on a promise made sure to Jacob's seed, then Jacob can claim a blessing for Joseph's sons. Jacob can say, "they shall be mine." He claims them as his seed and therefore as the heirs to the inheritance.
Jacob names the boys alongside Reuben and Simeon. That move hands the rights of the eldest son to Joseph.
Scripture confirms this. 1 Chronicles 5:2 says of Israel that "the birthright was Joseph's." Verse 1 tells us that Reuben was the eldest son, and that his birthright "was given to the sons of Joseph the son of Israel." We can see why Joseph had two sons and only two: so that he might have the double portion of the firstborn. So in the dividing of the land, each of Israel's sons had a single portion, that is, one tribe each. Levi is left out here, for obvious reasons. Joseph had the double portion: two tribes, Ephraim and Manasseh.
Adding two more heads to the family looks like a mistake in the arithmetic. Later history shows why it was not.
Now Jacob claims the two sons of Joseph as his own, calling them Ephraim and Manasseh rather than Manasseh and Ephraim in the order of their birth (v. 5). This was not just a whim of Jacob's old age; history has proved it to be an important matter. Jacob had twelve sons at the time, the exact number that marks complete administration. Why should he give Joseph an extra place among the tribes by naming them after his two sons? The wisdom of God was in this. Later we find that Levi received no distinct inheritance among the tribes (Numbers 1:47-53). God set that tribe apart to serve Him in the tabernacle and among all the tribes.
Nothing here follows natural rights. Jacob accepts what God has decided.
Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion, as though they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder. And grace gives Joseph, the adopted firstborn, a pledge of his coming inheritance. To all this Jacob bows and is obedient. In faith he accepts the decisions of grace. Nature may resent this; but Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
Notice when Jacob made the choice.
He adopted them before he saw them. He gave them the place of the firstborn in the family while he had not yet looked at them, for his eyes were dim with age.
Joseph received these sons far from home, among strangers. Commentators see a larger pattern in that.
He has now received, from among Gentile strangers, a new unlooked-for family. And Joseph's Egyptian family clearly typify Christ's heavenly family, or the church. For in the joy of His having received the church, the Lord has for a while forgotten Israel. It was the same with Joseph. He called his firstborn "Manasseh," for, he said, "God has made me forget all my toil and all my father's house." His second son he called "Ephraim," for, he said, "God has caused me to be fruitful in the land of my affliction."
- Forfeited. Reuben, the eldest, lost the birthright. 1 Chronicles 5 records that it passed to the sons of Joseph.
- Adopted. Ephraim and Manasseh had an Egyptian mother and no legal claim on Abraham. Jacob's word alone made them his.
- Doubled. Joseph had exactly two sons, so his line received the two portions belonging to the firstborn.
- Written in. The two boys became tribal heads. Levi received no land of his own, so the tribes holding land still numbered twelve.
- Grace throughout. Jacob chose the boys before his dim eyes ever saw them, and he bowed to that choice in faith.
And thy family which thou hast begotten after them shall be thine they shall be called after the name of their brethren in their inheritance.
Jacob has just claimed Joseph's two Egyptian-born sons as his own; verse 6 settles what happens to any sons born to Joseph after them. It raises three questions: why Jacob adopted the first two at all, why he stopped at two, and what "in their inheritance" secured.
Joseph's sons had an Egyptian mother. They could not simply assume a place in the family. Jacob had to give it to them.
Jacob begins by reciting to Joseph God's grant of the land of Canaan. This set out the family estate, the property he had to leave among his children. He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children, because in a great legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would, in its day, have put away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family… They are established as the seed of Abraham, and made children of Jacob.
The number is not random. Two sons, and no more, carried the double portion of the firstborn.
Scripture confirms this. 1 Chronicles 5:2 tells us, concerning Israel, that "the birthright belonged to Joseph." Verse 1 tells us that the birthright of Reuben, the eldest son, "was given to the sons of Joseph the son of Israel." We can see why Joseph had two sons and only two: so that he might have the double portion of the firstborn. So in the dividing of the land, each of Israel's sons (Levi excluded for obvious reasons) had a single portion, that is one tribe each. Joseph had the double portion, two tribes, Ephraim and Manasseh.
This is the exact force of the second half of the verse. Any son born to Joseph later would not head a thirteenth or fourteenth line.
The genealogies show that families were all counted under one head, if they were not large enough to make a distinct family (1 Chronicles 23:10-11). Or they might come in as two, when strictly the head should have been only one, as with Ephraim and Manasseh. If Joseph had had a dozen sons afterwards, they would not have formed distinct families (Genesis 48:6). They would have merged into the tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh.
Joseph had married into Egypt, and that put his sons at risk. Scripture calls Jacob's answer to it faith.
The adoption of Joseph's sons is interesting and instructive. As the offspring of the Gentile wife Asenath they were in danger of becoming absorbed into the nations and so forgetting their father's house. Jacob prevented this by adopting the sons. It was an action of faith. "By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph, bowing in worship over the head of his staff" (Hebrews 11:21).
Joseph's two sons also kept the tribal count whole. One tribe would later serve God instead of holding land.
This was not just a whim of Jacob's old age, but history has proved it to be an important matter. Jacob had 12 sons at the time, the exact number of administrative completeness. Why should he give Joseph an extra place among the tribes by naming them after his two sons? The wisdom of God was in this. Later we find that Levi received no distinctive inheritance among the tribes (Numbers 1:47-53). That was because the tribe was set apart to do the service of God in the tabernacle and among all the tribes.
Joseph's sons were born outside Israel, yet they ended up sharing Israel's inheritance. One writer sees the same pattern in what followed the rejection of Jesus.
Joseph is unknown to his brothers, or at best only a memory. Meanwhile he is in power in Egypt, and marries Asenath, an Egyptian woman. His sons are cut off from their mother's Gentile connection. They are moved into the position of "heirs of the promise" with faithful Abraham, rightly counted with Israel, and they divide the inheritance with them. So the Lord Jesus, rejected by the Jews, has called out children from among the nations.
- Name — Through an Egyptian mother, Ephraim and Manasseh had no legal claim. Jacob's word gave them one and set them among the seed of Abraham.
- Place — Adoption made the two boys tribal heads. Joseph's later sons would carry their brothers' names, not Egypt's.
- Portion — Two heads, and only two, carried the firstborn's double portion. It was taken from Reuben and given to Joseph.
- Limit — Verse 6 closes the list. Later children merge into Ephraim and Manasseh and form no family of their own.
- Reach — Twelve tribes still hold land while Levi serves without it. Sons born outside end up sharing the inheritance inside.
And as for me, when I came from Padan, Rachel died by me in the land of Canaan on the way, when there was yet a certain distance to come to Ephrath; and I buried her there on the way to Ephrath, that is, Bethlehem.
Near the end of his life, Jacob adopts Joseph's two sons as his own. Then he stops and speaks of a roadside grave. Why does a dying man mention a burial while he is handing out an inheritance?
Genesis records Rachel's death in chapter 35. Jacob himself never speaks of it — until now:
Verse 7 is the only expression we hear from Jacob's lips about the death of his favoured wife, Rachel. How deeply his heart was affected is not dwelt on at all. He held his feelings back, yet the memory was still real and painful. He tells Joseph the exact place where she died and where he buried her. These were things he would not forget.
Jacob has just spoken of the inheritance waiting for Joseph's sons. Then he turns to himself, and the two futures stand side by side:
He sees a great inheritance in the land stretching before them and their descendants. But as for himself, all his earthly joys in Canaan ended with the death of his best-loved wife… For Rachel he had suffered, toiled, and lived, and with her every earthly joy closed for Jacob. It was as if he said to Joseph, "Your two sons have bright earthly prospects before them, but as for me, mine were all buried in Rachel's tomb." But the faith of the dying man looks beyond the end of all earthly joys… If he speaks of Rachel's tomb on the way to Ephrath, he adds something telling: "that is, Bethlehem."
The name Jacob adds has a history of its own:
Bethlehem first appears in the Bible in connection with the death and burial of Rachel (Genesis 35:19)… Bethlehem means "house of bread". That is a very fitting name for the place the Saviour would come from as a man — He who was the living bread that came down from heaven… It was apparently first called Ephrath (Genesis 35:16, 19; Genesis 48:7), and afterwards Ephratah (Ruth 4:11; Psalm 132:6). Scripture once calls it Bethlehem Ephratah, that is, the fruitful, because the ruler of Israel was to come from there (Micah 5:2; Luke 2:4, 15; John 7:42). This led to Herod's killing of the infants (Matthew 2:16-18).
One writer ties Jacob's lifelong grief to the spot where he laid her:
Death created an emptiness that can never be filled. Jacob never forgot the loss of Rachel for the rest of his life… He buried the one he loved where Christ, the real comfort for every grieving heart, was to be born.
There Rachel gave birth to a son and died. The mother and the father gave the boy opposite names. The second name shows where Jacob's faith was looking:
The dying Rachel called the child Benoni (son of my sorrow), but Jacob called him Benjamin (son of the right hand). Near Bethlehem the true Son of the Right Hand would come into the world. There Jacob shows his faith in God by the name he gives his son. At that spot the door seemed to close on Jacob's deepest joys. Yet that same spot is where his brightest hopes would be made sure, in the Baby to be born at Bethlehem.
Jacob tells the story without a word of complaint:
Rachel's death was certainly one of the most painful lessons Jacob had to learn. It went deep into his soul. Yet his history says nothing about how Jacob felt about it… He felt it. Yet I think in Jacob we now have a submission of heart. He recognised that it had come from the hand of God, and he accepted it. He had learnt his lesson, learnt to submit to God.
When Herod killed the children of Bethlehem, Rachel appeared again in Scripture — in a place no reader would expect her:
Rachel had been dead for centuries and centuries. But the Spirit of God puts it in this remarkable way, as if her spirit had risen from the dead… We should not have expected Rachel to meet us here. But, as I said before, Bethlehem was the place where she died. Her children died there too, simply because it was the spot where her Saviour and theirs — and, thank God, my Saviour — was born.
- Grave. Jacob never spoke of Rachel's death anywhere else. Here he names the road, the distance and the burial place — details a grieving man does not forget.
- Grief. "As for me" sets the bright future of Joseph's sons against Jacob's own. His earthly joys all lay buried in Rachel's tomb.
- Gift. He adds "that is, Bethlehem" — the house of bread, the fruitful town the ruler of Israel would come from.
- Faith. The mother named her baby son of my sorrow. The father renamed him son of the right hand, and the place of loss became a place of hope.
- Echo. Centuries later Rachel weeps again over the children of Bethlehem — in the town where her Saviour was born.
And Israel beheld Joseph's sons, and said, Who are these?
Jacob is near death in Egypt when Joseph brings him two sons born there to an Egyptian mother. The old man's eyes are too dim to make the boys out, so he asks who they are — and the answer will decide whether two children of Egypt can belong to Abraham's family.
The question is not a test. Jacob cannot make the boys out. One writer sets that failing eyesight beside the way Jacob had lived his earlier years.
When Rachel died, Jacob was still at full strength. Now his natural strength was gone and his eyes were dim, so that he could not even make out the sons of Joseph. In his strong days he had too often walked by the sight of his own eyes. Now at the end he begins to walk and act by faith, not by sight. At the same time he sees how very kind God has been to him.
The text changes the old man's name at this point. Up to here he has been looking back over his own history. From the question on, he becomes God's spokesman.
Jacob has spoken up to now, but from this point in the story he speaks as Israel. Jacob, the man of nature, has looked back over the past and seen all his hopes end in death. Now, as Israel (the prince with God), he will declare the mind of God. As Jacob he has seen death ending the plans of man. As Israel he looks beyond death and unfolds the purpose of God (verses 8-11)... If heavenly things are opening to him, earthly things are fading from him.
By birth these boys had no place in Abraham's family line. One commentator explains why Jacob had to act before he could bless.
He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children, because, in strict legal terms, they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. So they were the kind of children the law of that day would have sent away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family.
Jacob had already settled what he would do with these boys before he ever set eyes on them. The same writer draws out why that order matters.
He adopted them before he saw them. He gave them the place of the firstborn in the family while he had still not looked on them, for his eyes were dim with age. All the desire of his heart had gone out to them while they had never yet stood before him. So when the blessing does come, it comes with all its value. The warmth of Jacob's heart and tongue came with it. It is sealed, and sealed again, before Ephraim and Manasseh enjoy it. They are to know that their adoption had been their father's delightful plan and promise — the subject of his thoughts and love — before it was ever made known to them.
Jacob himself had received a blessing that was not his by natural right. Now, with failing eyes, he sees the same free favour reaching his grandsons.
As Jacob received the blessing, so now he gives it to both the sons of Joseph. Jacob had no claim on God for a blessing. He was a fugitive from his elder brother Esau, to whom by natural right the blessing belonged. But God allows no rights. He acts according to the counsels of His own will... He could look at his grandchildren, and see the blessing of God coming on them from the grace of God, as freely as it had come on him.
Joseph does not leave his sons at a distance. He brings them to his father to be blessed. One writer sees a larger picture in that.
Joseph is a wonderful picture of Christ, who brings His children into the Father's presence. It is the Father's delight to bless us.
- Dim. Jacob's eyes fail him. He cannot make out his own grandsons. Writers mark this as the moment he stops walking by sight and starts walking by faith.
- Israel. The name changes with the question. From here on, the man of nature gives way to the prince with God, who looks past death and speaks God's purpose.
- Strangers. Born in Egypt to an Egyptian mother, the two boys had no legal standing in Abraham's family. That is why adoption, not birth, had to come first.
- Chosen. Jacob adopted the boys before he ever saw them. Their place in the family was settled in his heart while they were still out of his sight.
- Passed on. The fugitive who had no claim of his own now hands the same free blessing to a second generation. Joseph brings the children near to receive it.
And Joseph said to his father, They are my sons, whom God has given me here. And he said, Bring them, I pray thee, to me, that I may bless them.
Jacob is old, sick and nearly blind, and when he sees two young men standing beside Joseph he has to ask who they are. Joseph answers, and Jacob asks for the boys. What follows is the act Scripture later marks as Jacob's great act of faith.
Joseph does not say that these are the sons he fathered in Egypt. He traces them back to God, and the names he had given them say the same thing.
Pharaoh gave Joseph a wife, and God gave Joseph two sons. The oldest was named "Manasseh" ("Forgetting"), because God made Joseph forget his work and sorrow. The younger was named "Ephraim" ("Fruitful"), because God caused him to be fruitful in the land of his trouble.
The word "here" matters. God gave these sons in the land of Joseph's trouble, not after the trouble was over.
By birth the boys belonged to Egypt, not to Abraham. Jacob does not argue the difficulty away. He acts.
He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children. In a real legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would in its day have put away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family.
Where does a dying man find anything to give? Not from himself.
But if blessing rests on the promise made sure to Jacob's descendants, then Jacob can claim a blessing for Joseph's sons. Jacob can say, "they shall be mine." He claims them as his descendants and therefore as the heirs to the inheritance.
Jacob's eyes are failing. Yet the record now calls him Israel, and the change of name marks a change in what he sees.
As Jacob he has seen death ending the plans of man. As Israel he looks beyond death and unfolds the purpose of God. But the eyes of Israel were dim with age, so that he could not see. If heavenly things are opening to him, earthly things are fading from him. And so he no longer thinks of the sorrows along the way, but of the goodness of God that had never forsaken him. He acknowledges that God had been better to him than all his natural thoughts.
Read the whole chapter and one pattern runs through it. Jacob's own part is only to agree.
In Genesis 48, which follows, we get the one act in his life that the Spirit marks out as the act of faith. See Hebrews 11:21. But the whole chapter is beautiful. All is grace on God's part, and all is faith in the heart of Jacob. It is the proper business and duty of faith to accept the decisions of grace, and that is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no claim by birth, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives them the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion, as though they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder.
Joseph's part is only to bring the boys. Parents can bring their children to God the same way, and one writer separates two reasons for doing it.
Suppose we bring them with a desire for their prominence and glory. Suppose we want them distinguished either in this world or the world to come, so that our natural pride and pleasure in them grows. Then we have no ground for expecting the Lord to act. If we bring them so that their desperate need may be met and their blessing accomplished, He will hear us. The varying circumstances on our side will be no hindrance.
- Given. Joseph calls his sons a gift from God. Their names record what God did in the land of his trouble: He made Joseph forget, and made him fruitful.
- Brought. Jacob asks for the boys to come close before he blesses them. Blessing does not reach them at a distance.
- Adopted. The boys had no legal standing in Abraham's family. Jacob adopts them and gives them the place of the firstborn.
- Blessed. Jacob has nothing of his own to hand over. He can bless because God's promise runs to his descendants, and the boys now count among them.
- Accepted. All is grace on God's side and faith on Jacob's. Faith's one job is to accept what grace has decided.
But the eyes of Israel were heavy from age he could not see. And he brought them nearer to him; and he kissed them, and embraced them.
I have strong material. Here is the commentary:
An old man sits on his bed, too blind to make out the faces of the two boys in front of him. Scripture treats this as the high point of Jacob's faith: his eyes fail, yet the blessing he gives is exactly right.
The dimness is not only physical. The world Jacob had clung to is slipping out of his hands, and the loss turns out to be a gain.
Jacob — the man of nature — is weakened by age and sickness. The world he had clung to so tightly is fast fading from his view. His eyes are dim with age (verse 10). But his natural strength weakens and his natural sight grows dim. Everything on earth is fast slipping from his grasp. So he rises above the loss of all earthly joys and finds in God his only trust and unfailing resource.
What goes out at one window comes in at another. Writers note the exchange directly: as one kind of sight closes, another opens.
If heavenly things are opening to him, earthly things are fading from him. And so it is he no longer thinks of the sorrows by the way, but of the goodness of God that had never forsaken him.
Jacob had spent most of his life relying on his own cleverness. The failure of his eyes marks the end of that method — and the start of a better one.
When Rachel died Jacob was still in full strength; now his natural strength was gone, his eyes were dim, so that he could not even recognise the sons of Joseph. In his days of vigour he had too often walked by the sight of his own eyes; now at the close he begins to walk and act by faith and not by sight, and at the same time he realises the exceeding kindness of God toward him.
The same point is put as a reversal: the shrewdness that once served him has drained away, and what replaces it is sharper.
Dim as to his natural eye, but clear-sighted by faith, he guided his hands knowingly. Jacob had used his own natural shrewdness in many ways in his past life. But now, as his natural powers fade, faith is very keen in discerning the ways of God.
Here the gifted son is the one who cannot see.
Joseph does not know God's purpose for his sons. He lets his natural desires govern him. He places the elder son in front of his dying father's right hand, and the younger in front of his left. So Joseph would have had it; but not so Jacob. His eyes were dim with age, but in this he was clearer-sighted than Joseph after all. No one ever saw more clearly than Joseph. Yet Jacob, dying, sees the future with a steadier and fuller gaze.
Gift alone does not produce such insight.
It needs an exercised soul, as well as a spiritual gift, to see clearly the way of grace. Joseph stands far above his father Jacob in both gift and moral worth. But Jacob had been well sifted, and had learned by experience his need of grace.
Jacob is now in his father's position: old, blind, and blessing sons. But the two bedsides end differently.
Isaac's eyes were dim, so he could be deceived, and they set about doing so, instead of looking to God, who would have completely frustrated Isaac's purpose to bless the one whom God would not bless — a purpose rooted in nature, and in very unlovely nature, for "Isaac loved Esau," not because he was the firstborn, but "because he ate of his game."
Jacob had once used his father's blindness against him. Now he is the blind one.
Jacob clear, where Isaac had been dim; Jacob clearer than Joseph, who until now had seen into divine things more deeply than any other man of God. What deep self-judgment must have passed through Israel's spirit as he reviewed the blessing he had once stolen by his own trickery!
The kiss and the embrace in this verse go to boys Jacob has never seen.
He adopted them before he saw them. He gave them the place of the firstborn in the family while he had not yet looked on them, for his eyes were dim with age. All the desire of his heart had been toward them while they were still unknown to him. So when the blessing does come, it comes with all its value. They may know that their adoption had been the delightful theme of the father's counsel and promise, the subject of his thoughts and affections before he made it known to them.
- Fading. Jacob's dim eyes mark the world slipping out of his grip. At that very moment he finds in God his only resource.
- Faith. The shrewdness Jacob once relied on has faded. In its place, faith reads God's ways with a keen eye.
- Clearer. Blind Jacob reads God's purpose better than his gifted son Joseph. Gift is not enough on its own; Jacob had also learned by experience his need of grace.
- Reversed. Isaac's dim eyes made him easy to trick, and the son he meant to bless was the one God would not bless. Jacob's dim eyes do not stop him blessing the right one.
- Loved first. Jacob adopted these boys and gave them the firstborn's place before he ever saw them. The embrace only showed what his heart had already settled.
And Israel said to Joseph, I had not thought to see thy face; and behold, God has let me see also thy seed.
For years Jacob believed his favourite son was dead. Now, at the end of his life, he holds that son's children. His words admit that his fears about God had been wrong. They also raise the question every grieving person asks: what is God doing when life runs against me?
Jacob had read his own life wrongly for years. One writer traces the low point:
When at last he had to part with Benjamin, he poured out his grief: "All this has come against me." Were they against him? He could not see far enough. Little did he think that the shadow of dreaded loss resting on his spirit was in reality the clouds breaking. Instead of losing Benjamin he was about to regain Joseph. In regaining Joseph, every pinch of want would be a thing of the past. He would live in the land where Joseph supplied the food, and receive from his plenty, even though all the rest of the earth was suffering famine. Ask Jacob, "Does God care?" Hear him say to Joseph for answer, "I never expected to see your face; and behold, God has let me see your offspring also."
The losses themselves were the road to the blessing:
The very things that he thought were against him were working for richest blessing, both for him and for his children. Not only was Joseph alive, but very soon he would see Joseph, and also his sons. God used the loss of Joseph to preserve Jacob and his house, and also to preserve the lives of many more.
What nature could see and what God knew were two different things:
In Genesis 48:11 we have a very beautiful example of the way our God always rises above all our thoughts, and proves Himself better than all our fears… To nature's view Joseph was dead; whereas in God's view he was alive, and seated in the highest place of authority, next to the throne.
Jacob does not just get back what he mourned. He also gets a generation he never counted on:
In his days of vigour he had too often walked by the sight of his own eyes. Now at the close he begins to walk and act by faith and not by sight. At the same time he realizes the exceeding kindness of God toward him. He had spent weary years thinking he would never see the face of his beloved son again. Now he has seen not only him but his offspring as well.
The chapter changes the old man's name at this exact point:
Jacob has spoken up to now, but from this point in the story he speaks as Israel, the prince with God… As Jacob he has seen death ending the plans of man. As Israel he looks beyond death and unfolds the purpose of God. But the eyes of Israel were dim with age, so that he could not see. If heavenly things are opening to him, earthly things are fading from him. And so he no longer thinks of the sorrows along the way, but of the goodness of God that had never forsaken him. He owns that God had been better to him than all his natural thoughts.
The two boys were half Egyptian. Jacob brings them inside the family line:
He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children, because in a great legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were offspring whom the law would, in its day, have put away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family.
Seeing God's goodness does not leave Jacob talking about himself. It ends in worship:
With the goodness of God filling his soul, Joseph and his two sons pass from his thoughts for the moment. In the presence of God "he bowed himself with his face to the earth." He has reached the highest moment in his spiritual life — he is a worshipper. We know from the Holy Spirit's comment in Hebrews 11 that this was the crowning act of faith in the life of Jacob… The scheming, the pushing of others out of their place, the selfishness, and the independence that so often marred his path had passed away. At last Jacob shows faith, dependence, and worship.
- Fear — Jacob said that everything had come against him. The very losses he mourned were God's means of preserving his whole house.
- Sight — nature saw a dead son. God saw a living one next to the throne, and He proves Himself better than all our fears.
- Gift — the word "also" is the surplus. Jacob expected no face at all, and God showed him a face and a generation.
- Reach — the grandsons God showed him had an Egyptian mother, and Jacob takes them into the family as his own.
- Worship — the old schemer ends face down on the ground. Hebrews 11 calls this the crowning act of faith in his life.
And Joseph brought them out from his knees, and bowed down with his face to the earth.
Genesis 48 holds the one act in Jacob's long life that Scripture marks out as his act of faith. Verse 12 sits at the turn of it: two boys lifted off a lap, and a face pressed to the ground. Who bows here, and why?
Jacob has just claimed Joseph's two sons as his own. One writer explains why that step was needed:
Jacob begins by reciting to Joseph God's grant of the land of Canaan. This set out the family estate, the property he had to leave among his children. He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children, since in a great legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would, in its day, have put away. But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family.
The law would have shut these boys out; adoption makes them Jacob's sons. Another writer notes a second danger the adoption dealt with:
As the children of Joseph's Gentile wife Asenath, they were in danger of becoming like the Gentiles around them and so forgetting their father's house. Jacob stopped this by adopting the sons.
Commentators differ over who falls face-down. Some read it as Joseph, showing respect before he presents his sons:
With the respect of a son, Joseph bowed down before his father. He then presented the boys in order of age, so that Jacob's right hand might rest on the head of the elder, as the custom of those days required.
Others take the bowing as Jacob's, and read it as the high point of his whole story:
With the goodness of God filling his soul, Joseph and his two sons pass from his thoughts for the moment. In the presence of God "he bowed himself with his face to the earth." He has reached the highest moment in his spiritual life — he is a worshipper. We know from the Holy Spirit's comment in Hebrews 11 that this was the crowning act of faith in Jacob's life. The scheming, the pushing others out of their place, the selfishness, and the independence that so often spoiled his path were gone. At last faith, dependence, and worship mark Jacob (verse 12).
Hebrews 11:21 looks back on this deathbed scene: "By faith Jacob, when dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph, bowing in worship over the head of his staff." Older translations read "leaning on the top of his staff." The staff carries the lesson of a lifetime:
He is seen as a worshipper, and his staff shows he is a stranger here. With his staff he crossed the Jordan at the start of his wanderings. Now he is on the edge of the grave, and it is still the staff. But how different, how changed the man who leans upon it! The lesson has been learnt. He leans. The one who can worship and bless others must himself be dependent. And can we ever afford to be anything else?
From here the account calls him Israel. Verse 10 says his sight is failing, and that loss serves him:
As Jacob he has seen death ending the plans of man. As Israel, the prince with God, he looks beyond death and unfolds the purpose of God (verses 8-11). But Israel's eyes were dim with age, so that he could not see (verse 10). If heavenly things are opening to him, earthly things are fading from him. And so he no longer thinks of the sorrows along the way, but of the goodness of God that had never forsaken him.
His body was failing. His faith was not.
Dying, Jacob was stronger in faith than in all the strength of his life, tested and active as it had been. It was then that by faith he blessed each of the sons of Joseph, going beyond what nature would have thought.
The bowed face fits a chapter where God gives and Jacob receives:
All is grace on God's part, and all is faith in the heart of Jacob. The proper work and duty of faith is to accept the decisions of grace, and that is exactly what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives the place and portion of the firstborn... Grace sets the younger of them above the elder. To all this Jacob bows and is obedient.
- Knees — The law would have shut these two boys out of Abraham's family; Jacob's adoption makes them his own sons.
- Grace — Everything in the chapter is given, not earned; faith's whole work here is to accept what grace decides.
- Bowed — Commentators differ. Some say Joseph bows to his father; others say Jacob bows to God. Read as Jacob's, it is the highest moment of his life.
- Staff — The man who leans is the man who can bless; worship and dependence arrive together, and only at the end of a long, self-willed road.
- Dim — As his eyes fail, he sees the goodness of God more clearly; dying, he is stronger in faith than he ever was in his strength.
And Joseph took them both, Ephraim in his right hand toward Israel's left hand, and Manasseh in his left hand toward Israel's right hand, and brought [them] near to him.
Joseph brings his two boys to his dying father in the order any family would expect. The elder goes toward Jacob's right hand, the younger toward his left. It looks like a small point of etiquette. But Jacob is about to cross his hands, and the question becomes whether blessing follows birth order or follows God.
Joseph's arrangement was correct and respectful. One writer notes what became of it:
With a son's respect Joseph bowed down before his father. Then he presented the boys according to their ages, so that Jacob's right hand would rest on the head of the elder, as the custom of those days required. At that moment it was Jacob's faith that stood out — a faith that gave him the spirit of prophecy. So he reversed what Joseph had done, and crossing his hands he laid his right hand upon Ephraim and not Manasseh.
Jacob's eyes had failed with age. One writer finds his sharpest sight at that very moment:
He received the name when his hip was put out of joint (Genesis 32). Perhaps never since then did he realize so fully that he had power with God and with men as he did on his dying bed. He had now "no confidence in the flesh." His natural eye was dim, but his faith saw clearly, and he guided his hands knowingly... Joseph, the interpreter of God's ways to Pharaoh, could not in this instance see as clearly as Jacob. It takes a soul trained by experience, as well as a spiritual gift, to see the way of grace clearly.
Another writer links that clear sight to worship:
As a worshipper in the presence of God he learns the mind of God. He acts no longer as nature would dictate, but as God would direct. He crosses his hands "intelligently," placing the right hand on the younger and the left hand on the elder (verses 13, 14)... His spiritual vision was never brighter than at the moment when his natural vision had become dim with age.
The two boys had no natural claim on the family promises. That is the point:
All is grace on God's part, and all is faith in the heart of Jacob. Faith's proper business and duty is to accept the decisions of grace, and that is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives them the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion... Grace sets the younger of them above the elder... Nature may resent this; but Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
The reversal is not arbitrary. The boys' names, given by Joseph in Egypt, already describe why the younger must come first.
Manasseh means "forgetting" and Ephraim means "fruitful." Joseph gave those names because he was made to forget the natural blessings of his father's house, and then became fruitful in Egypt. But forgetting is negative: fruitfulness is positive, and the positive must take the first place.
Writers read this as a pattern running far beyond one sickroom:
The first man and his race are negative toward God — the complete denial of all His thoughts. In Christ, the Second Man, is the Yes and Amen to all God's thoughts, and all fruitfulness is found in Him. He is indeed the Man of God's right hand. It is a great day in the spiritual history of each of us when we wholeheartedly agree that the Second Man has displaced the first, and so we turn away from self-seeking to find our all in Christ.
Jacob once stole a blessing from a father who could not see. Now he is on the other side of that scene:
Jacob was clear, where Isaac had been dim. He was clearer even than Joseph, who until then had been given penetrating insight into divine things beyond any other man of God. What deep self-judgment must have filled Israel's heart as he looked back on the blessing he once stole by his own scheming! Could the LORD not, would He not, have crossed Isaac's hands Himself — to His own glory and without His servant's shame — and so made good His promise to Jacob? How sad not to have trusted Him!
- Nature arranges. Joseph placed the boys by age, as custom required — dutiful, sensible, and about to be overturned.
- Worship sees. Jacob had just bowed in worship; from that place "he learns the mind of God" and acts "no longer as nature would dictate."
- Grace adopts. Two boys with "no title in the flesh" are brought into Abraham's family; faith's job is simply "to accept the decisions of grace."
- Fruit first. Forgetting is negative; fruitfulness is positive, and "the positive must take the first place" — the pattern points on to Christ, the Second Man.
- Faith sees. Jacob's "spiritual vision was never brighter" than when his natural vision had gone dim — clear where Isaac had been dim, and sure where Joseph was not.
But Israel stretched out his right hand, and laid [it] on Ephraim's head -- now he was the younger -- and his left hand on Manasseh's head; guiding his hands intelligently, for Manasseh was the firstborn.
A dying man, almost blind, crosses his arms so that his right hand falls on the younger boy's head instead of the elder's. Two questions follow. What does laying a hand on a head mean? And why does God so often reverse the order that nature has fixed?
In Scripture, placing a hand on someone's head is not an empty gesture. One writer explains it from the offerings brought at the altar:
To put the hand on the head means in Scripture identification. It is to say, "I identify myself with you." We see it in the burnt offering. The offerer identified himself with the value of the sacrifice. In this way he identified himself with all that Christ was to God, in every excellence of His person.
So which hand lands where is the point of the scene. The right hand has its own meaning:
The "right hand" speaks of authority, power, and high standing. According to Exodus 15:6, the power to deliver and to subdue belongs to the right hand. In Genesis 48:14 the right hand gives a blessing that is sovereign and cannot be taken back.
Older translations say Jacob guided his hands "wittingly" — that is, knowingly. The ESV reads "crossing his hands." His eyes had failed; his judgment had not. Shrewdness once served him. Now faith does the seeing.
He now had "no confidence in the flesh." His natural eye was dim, but faith made him clear-sighted, and he guided his hands knowingly. Jacob had used his own shrewdness in many ways in his past life. But now, as his natural powers fade, faith is very keen in discerning the ways of God… It takes a soul trained by experience, as well as a spiritual gift, to see the way of grace clearly.
The shape Jacob's arms make is itself a sign:
The sign of the cross cuts across and reverses natural order and human expectations. We find it here as everywhere… So the shadow of the cross falls on all that follows. It swaps the places of the members of both families, Jacob's and Joseph's. It rejects and selects in a sovereign and final way that sets aside human hopes and rules. It selects Ephraim and Judah, and rejects Manasseh, Reuben, and others. If we are surprised as Joseph was, then the reply is, "I know it, my son, I know it." It is absolute. We must submit whether we understand its action or not.
Jacob does not invent this reversal. He accepts it:
It is the proper business and duty of faith to accept the decisions of grace, and that is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives them the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion, as though they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder. … Joseph was moved when Jacob set Ephraim above Manasseh. Jacob feels for him, but he fulfils the word of God given to him, however surprised or wounded nature may be.
The boys' names carry meanings, and the meanings fit the choice:
Ephraim (fruitfulness) comes before Manasseh (forgetting); that is, the positive side of divine things is more important than the negative side.
Later history bore the choice out:
Manasseh's very name had a weak suggestion in it, and his half-hearted descendants fulfilled it. When they came to the Jordan, half of them stopped short and half went on.
Years before, Jacob had schemed to get a blessing his blind father meant for someone else. Now Jacob is the blind father, and he crosses the line on purpose.
Jacob was clear, where Isaac had been dim. Jacob saw more clearly than Joseph, though God had given Joseph sharper insight into divine things than other men until now. What deep self-judgment must have passed through Israel's spirit as he looked back at the blessing he once stole by trickery! Could the Lord not have crossed Isaac's hands Himself, to His own glory and without His servant's shame, to keep His word of promise to Jacob? How sad that Jacob did not trust Him!
The New Testament singles out this one moment in Jacob's life:
This one act of Jacob's life is the only one Hebrews 11 records as an act of faith on Jacob's part… At the end he said what we all ought to say at the beginning: "Not this man here, though he is the eldest born and the first on the scene, but that Man is the man of God's counsel."
- Identify — a hand on the head says, "I am joined to this one." The question is whether your hand is on the right head.
- Right hand — the hand Jacob moved carries authority and power. Here it gives a blessing no one can take back.
- Knowing — his eyes were dim, yet he knew what he was doing. Faith saw what Joseph, walking by sight, could not.
- Crossed — the crossed hands set aside the elder's rights and choose the younger. When nature protests, the answer is, "I know it, my son."
- Faith — the man who once stole a blessing by trickery now bows to God's choice for someone else, and Hebrews calls this his one act of faith.
And he blessed Joseph, and said, The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God that shepherded me all my life long to this day,
Jacob is dying in Egypt, his eyes too dim to see, and he pulls Joseph's two boys close to bless them. Before he says a word over the boys, he names the God he is handing them to. Those names sum up his own long, uneven life.
Jacob ends with nothing but his staff — the same thing he set out with. One writer sees that poverty as the secret of his boldness.
He is a stranger in a strange place. He has his staff to lean on, but he has God for his portion. He had been well stripped of all his confidence along the way. Now he is about to end his life with no more than what he set out with — his staff in his hand. Weighed down with weakness, and fully admitting that he is only a pilgrim, he takes the high place of the one who blesses. He can now bless both the sons of Joseph with far greater confidence than he could have done when he owned earthly riches.
Jacob first names God as the One his father and grandfather walked before. To them God had made Himself known as God Almighty.
This name was a further revelation of Himself. God gave it when Abram was past age and had nothing to lean on but the almightiness, or all-sufficiency, of God (Genesis 17:1). God led him by this name, which declared the sufficiency he needed, and led Isaac and Jacob after him. They were all strangers and pilgrims on the earth. They had nothing but the promise of an Almighty Friend to rest on.
The ESV calls God Jacob's shepherd. Older translations say He "fed me all my life long." Either way, Jacob could only reach this verdict by looking back.
What a wonderful testimony Jacob gives to the faithfulness of God! When Jacob walked by sight, he did not see so clearly that God was feeding him and caring for him. But now, leaning on the top of his staff, he retraces all God's ways by faith.
One writer presses the same daily care on the reader.
Has not God provided generously for you? You never eat a meal without mercy carving for you. You never go to bed without mercy drawing the curtains and setting a guard of angels around you.
Jacob had not always read his life this way.
He has learned that even when the Lord disciplines us, we can give thanks afterwards and say, "You have dealt well with Your servant." Jacob saw this in his own life. In Genesis 42:36 he says, "all these things are against me." In 45:27, "the spirit of Jacob their father revived." Jacob realises that discipline "later yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness" (Hebrews 12:11). Can you look back and thank the Lord for everything?
Jacob's crossed hands and his words about God come from the same man — one who no longer follows what nature dictates.
As a worshipper in the presence of God he learns the mind of God. He no longer acts as nature would dictate, but as God would direct. He crosses his hands with understanding, putting the right hand on the younger and the left on the elder. Then Jacob blesses Joseph, and does so by blessing his two sons. He speaks of God according to his experience of God. He commends the lads into the hands of the God who shepherded him all the days of his life — the Angel who had redeemed him from all evil. His spiritual sight was never clearer than when his natural sight had grown dim with age.
Jacob is not the hero of his own story.
If any character could have set aside the faithfulness of God, it is Jacob's. Low cunning and crooked scheming marked it from the start, in the way he treated his brother Esau. But this did not interfere at all with God's faithfulness to him. Looking back, he sees — and I do not doubt he sees with joy — the failure of all his scheming and policy. One single thought fills Jacob: the grace and faithfulness of the God he deals with. He was never saved from a single danger by his own policy.
- Stripped — Jacob ends with only his staff. That emptiness is what frees him to take the higher place of the one who blesses.
- Shepherded — while walking by sight he could not see God feeding him. The care was constant; he saw it only looking back.
- Reversed — the man who once said everything was against him now names God as his lifelong provider. Discipline bore its peaceful fruit.
- Instructed — standing before God he learns God's mind, and blesses by that instead of by what nature would choose.
- Faithful — Jacob's scheming never once rescued him, and never once stopped God. His last word is about grace, not achievement.
the Angel that redeemed me from all evil, bless the lads; and let my name be named upon them, and the name of my fathers Abraham and Isaac; and let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the land!
Jacob is dying, and his eyes are dim. Before he blesses his two grandsons, he names the God he is handing them over to. That title gathers up a whole lifetime of trouble and rescue: the Angel who redeemed him from all evil.
Jacob is not calling on a created being here. The three lines of verses 15 and 16 describe one God, and the first two titles explain the third.
Here is the whole verse: "God, before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day, the angel who has redeemed me from all evil, bless the boys." The angel was the God of his fathers. Are you unaware that the word "angel" covers all those appearances of God on behalf of His ancient people? Do you not know that Stephen says Moses was with the angel in the bush, who said, "I am who I am"? Do you not know that Hosea says Jacob wrestled with the angel and prevailed? Yet Jacob called the place Peniel, because he had seen God face to face.
The title points back to one meeting in particular.
When Jacob speaks of "the Angel, the Redeemer" (literal translation) he speaks of Jehovah who appeared to him, whom he met face to face at Peniel.
For Jacob, "redeemed" meant rescue from every danger along his path. It offers the same confidence to anyone still on the road.
Redemption for Jacob clearly meant his deliverance from all the dangers and troubles of his winding path. Christians too can count on the strong arm of the Lord. He brings them safely through all the ups and downs of the wilderness God has called them to cross.
Part of that "all" once looked to Jacob like nothing but disaster.
His complaint was, "All these things are against me." And so it indeed appeared. He had yet to learn that all these things were part of God's plan for his ultimate good. That is why, at the end of his life, he could speak of "the angel who has redeemed me from all evil" (Genesis 48:16). The fact was that "all these things" were going to "work together for good," and so give us an effective illustration of the truth of Romans 8:28.
The same man who praised the Redeemer had earlier called his years few and hard.
It is true he received the promise, but his experiences were very different from Abraham's. Although at the end of his life he could say, "the angel who has redeemed me from all evil" (Genesis 48:16), he still had to add, "Few and evil have been the days of the years of my life." The variety of his experience is a proof of unfaithfulness.
Yet the closing words answer the very first promise God made to him.
The understanding of faith looks over the past and recognises God's presence in keeping and leading. "The God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day, the angel who has redeemed me from all evil." This is faith's answer to the promise given at the outset of his course: "I will never leave you." Guided now by God, he blesses Ephraim and Manasseh, putting the younger first. Flesh put Esau first; faith put Ephraim.
He does not invent a title for the occasion. He blesses out of a lifetime with God.
As a worshipper in God's presence he learns the mind of God. He no longer acts as nature would dictate, but as God would direct... He speaks of God according to his experience of God. It is the God who shepherded him all the days of his life — the Angel who had redeemed him from all evil — into whose hands he commends the lads. His spiritual vision was never brighter than at the moment when his natural vision had grown dim with age.
The second half of the verse asks for two things: a name and growth.
He has claimed them as his own sons, and his request matches that. He asks that his name would rest on them, and the names of Abraham and Isaac. This stresses the continuity of God's blessing on that family. Also, he says, "let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth." This is clearly earthly blessing, having nothing to do with heaven.
- Shepherd. Jacob's first word about God is care that never stopped. This is the God who shepherded him all his life long.
- Redeemer. "All evil" covers every danger on a crooked road. What once looked like everything being against him turned out to work for good.
- Angel. The One who redeemed him is the God of his fathers, met face to face at Peniel. The title confesses God, not a lesser being.
- Blesser. He hands the boys to the God he had proved, and he does it as a worshipper. His eyes were dim, but his sight of God was bright.
- Multitude. He passes on what he received. His name and his fathers' names rest on the boys, and he asks that they grow into a multitude.
When Joseph saw that his father laid his right hand on the head of Ephraim, it was evil in his eyes; and he took hold of his father's hand to remove it from Ephraim's head to Manasseh's head.
Joseph watches his father's hands cross over the heads of his two boys. He reaches out to move the right hand back onto Manasseh, the elder. The moment raises a question: who decides who comes first — birth order, or God?
Joseph is not fighting God on purpose. He tries to correct his father because he does not see what Jacob sees.
Joseph lets his natural thoughts rule him. He does not see the sovereignty of God, who blesses according to His own purpose. So he objects to Jacob giving first place to the younger son. Jacob, however, will not give way to Joseph's natural wishes. He knows exactly what he is doing. He can say, "I know it, my son, I know it."
Jacob's eyes were too dim to see the boys. Yet here the roles reverse: the old man reads God's mind, and the gifted son misses it.
Joseph explained God's ways to Pharaoh, yet here he could not see as clearly as Jacob. To see the way of grace clearly, a person needs a soul trained by experience as well as a spiritual gift. Joseph stands far above his father Jacob, both in gift and in moral worth. But Jacob had been well sifted, and had learnt from experience his need of grace. A father's fondness, the right of the firstborn, and things like that can fill the mind even where there is real gift, and gift from God.
The crossed arms are not a slip by a half-blind man. One commentator reads them as a pattern that shows up everywhere.
Joseph brings Manasseh and Ephraim for his blessing, but the old patriarch crosses his hands, and reverses their order in the succession. The sign of the cross cuts across natural order and human expectation and turns them around. We meet it here, as we meet it everywhere. "My thoughts are not your thoughts," God says. He says this not because God's thoughts are meant to stand apart from ours or against ours, but because His thoughts are right and ours are wrong. We look at the little swirls of water; He sees the whole stream.
Joseph's protest is the one wrong note in a chapter that is otherwise all gift. One commentator lists what grace hands out here, piece by piece.
All is grace on God's part, and all is faith in the heart of Jacob. For it is the proper business and duty of faith to accept the decisions of grace, and that is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no claim of their own by birth, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion, as though they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder... Nature may resent this; but Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
The boys' names explain why the order had to change. One name stands for the goal; the other stands for the road that leads there.
We find the law of spiritual increase in Joseph, and the name of his son "Ephraim" shows it — "fruitfulness." But the road to fruitfulness runs through "Manasseh" — "forgetfulness." It is the same with the apostle Paul, who wrote, "But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead." Manasseh is the firstborn, in fact. But the end is greater than the means, so in the mind of God Ephraim is greater than Manasseh. Nature in us, as in Joseph here, often resists so simple a conclusion.
Years earlier Jacob had worked to get his own dying father's blessing. Now he blesses over a son's objection, and sees what God would have done without his help.
He now learns that those whom God blesses will be blessed. His grace does not need the help of human strength, and His promise needs no human stamp of approval... Suppose Jacob really had needed his own dying father's blessing to secure the inheritance God had for him. He now sees, as he sets Ephraim above Manasseh despite Joseph, that God could and would have brought that about.
- Nature protests. Joseph's hand moves to correct his father's. That is nature speaking: the claim of the firstborn, felt by a good man who could not see what God was doing.
- Grace decides. Every blessing in this chapter goes to someone with no claim by birth. Faith's whole business is to accept what grace decides.
- The cross reverses. The crossed hands are a sign. God's order cuts across what we expect, not because He is against our thoughts, but because His are right.
- Fruit follows forgetting. Manasseh means forgetting; Ephraim means fruitful. The goal outranks the road to it, so the younger son goes first.
- Faith outsees gift. Jacob's eyes were dim, yet the sifted old man read God's mind. He learned at last that God never needed human help to keep a promise.
And Joseph said to his father, Not so, my father, for this is the firstborn put thy right hand on his head.
Near the end of his life Jacob adopts Joseph's two sons and blesses them. But he crosses his hands, laying his right hand on the younger boy. Joseph steps in to correct him. His protest raises the question of the whole chapter: does blessing follow the order of nature, or the choice of God?
Joseph reacts to what his eyes can see. His father is acting by faith.
Genesis 48 gives us another example of the seductive power of what we can see. It is a wonderful thing to see faith, the invisible power, winning in Jacob over everything that marked his earlier up-and-down history. We watch him rise above nature and its claims, as he lays his hands on the head of Ephraim, the younger of Joseph's two sons, guiding his hands knowingly. Yet the snare of the visible is just as clear, seen in Joseph's displeasure and dissatisfaction.
Jacob's eyes were dim with age. That did not make him unsure of what he was doing.
Joseph lets his natural thoughts govern him. He does not discern the sovereignty of God, who blesses according to His purpose. So he protests against Jacob giving first place to the younger son. Jacob, however, will not give way to Joseph's natural wishes. He is perfectly aware of the course he is taking. He can say, "I know it, my son, I know it." He is not only acting according to the mind of God. He is doing it with understanding. His spiritual vision was never brighter than at the moment when his natural vision had become dim with age.
Joseph was the man who had read Pharaoh's dreams.
Joseph, the interpreter of God's ways to Pharaoh, could not in this case see as clearly as Jacob. It needs an exercised soul, as well as a spiritual gift, to see clearly the way of grace. Joseph stands far above his father Jacob, both in gift and in moral worth. But Jacob had been well sifted, and had learned by experience his need of grace. A parent's fondness, the right of the firstborn, and things like these can fill the mind, even where there is a real gift from God.
The crossed hands say where all blessing comes from.
Though Joseph may plead for Manasseh, Jacob puts the blessing on Ephraim. This is God's way: to set the younger above the elder. So all blessing may come through the grace of God, and not through the rights, or the claims, or the efforts of nature. At the end, Jacob's whole boast and confidence is in the sovereign grace of God.
Years earlier Jacob had tricked his own blind father into blessing the younger son. Now he is the blind father.
Jacob was clear where Isaac had been dim. He was clearer even than Joseph, to whom God had given deeper insight into divine things than to any other man of God. What deep self-judgment must have passed through Israel's spirit! He was looking back on the blessing he had once stolen by his own scheming. Could the Lord not have crossed Isaac's hands to make good His promise to Jacob? He could have done it to His own glory, and without His servant's shame. How sad not to have trusted Him!
Each boy's name carries a meaning.
Here we may see a picture that has meaning for us. The name Manasseh means Forgetting, which points in a negative direction. Ephraim means Fruitful, which is positive in character. The first man and his race are negative as regards God, the complete denial of all His thoughts. In Christ, the Second Man, is the Yes and Amen to all God's thoughts, and all fruitfulness is found in Him. He is indeed the Man of God's right hand. It is a great day in the spiritual history of each of us when we gladly agree that the Second Man has displaced the first. Then we turn away from self-seeking to find our all in Christ.
Joseph's protest is the reaction most of us have when God's order cuts across our own.
If we are surprised as Joseph was, the reply is, "I know it, my son, I know it." That answer is absolute. We must submit whether we understand how it works or not. At the same time, later events often show us wise reasons for what seemed strange in that action.
- Sight. Jacob's eyes were dim, yet he saw more clearly than Joseph. Faith sees best when sight fails.
- Gift. Joseph had the greater gift. But reading the way of grace takes an exercised soul, not talent.
- Grace. The right hand went to the younger so that blessing would rest on God's grace, not on the rights or efforts of nature.
- Christ. Forgetting gives way to Fruitful. The Second Man displaces the first, and we find all our fruitfulness in Him.
- Submission. When God's order surprises us, the answer stands — "I know it, my son" — and we submit before we understand.
But his father refused and said, I know, my son, I know he also will become a people, and he also will be great; but truly his younger brother will be greater than he; and his seed will become the fulness of nations.
Jacob is dying and his eyes are too weak to see, yet he lays his right hand on Joseph's younger son and will not move it when Joseph objects. He promises Manasseh real greatness, then puts the younger brother above him — and the usual rights of the firstborn fall away.
Joseph assumed his father had made a mistake. The threefold repetition — refusing, then affirming, then explaining — shows a man acting with full awareness, at the very moment his physical sight had failed.
He acts no longer as nature would direct, but as God would direct. He crosses his hands "intelligently," placing the right hand on the younger and the left hand on the elder. … Joseph lets his natural thoughts govern him. He does not see the sovereignty of God, who blesses according to His purpose. So he protests against Jacob giving the first place to the younger son. Jacob, however, will not give way to Joseph's natural wishes. He is perfectly aware of the course he is taking. He can say, "I know, my son, I know." He is acting according to the mind of God, and he is doing so with understanding. His spiritual vision was never brighter than at the moment when his natural sight had grown dim with age.
The choice was not Jacob's preference. Everything given in this chapter — the adoption of two Egyptian-born boys, the double portion, the reversal of the order — comes from outside the claims of birth.
It is all grace on God's part, and all faith in the heart of Jacob. The proper business and duty of faith is to accept the decisions of grace. That is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives the place and portion of the firstborn, the double portion, as though they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder. To all this Jacob bows and is obedient. Nature may resent this; but Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
Ephraim was not the only younger son lifted above an elder. Reuben, the actual firstborn, lost his place too.
But God's ways are the opposite of ours, and all human greatness and pride must be humbled. Ephraim's precedence shows this. He was the younger, yet he was put over the elder, just as Reuben the firstborn lost his place. This emphasised God's sovereignty, which lifts up the lowly and brings down the high.
The names themselves carry the reason. Joseph named his firstborn for what God had taken away from him, and his second for what God had produced in him.
Manasseh means "forgetting" and Ephraim means "fruitful." Joseph was made to forget the natural blessings of his father's house, and then he became fruitful in Egypt. But forgetting is negative and fruitfulness is positive, and the positive must take the first place. Jacob says that Manasseh would become great, but Ephraim would be greater than he. Both are blessed, but Ephraim is set before Manasseh.
The wording here differs from the promise given earlier in the chapter, and that difference matters for how the promise was worked out among the tribes.
It is worth noting the unusual phrase in verse 19: not "a multitude of peoples" but "a fullness of nations." … It is well known that Judah and Benjamin had a place of their own, while all the rest of the tribes fell under Ephraim as Israel.
Commentators differ over how wide "nations" reaches. One reading keeps it inside Israel rather than extending it to foreign peoples:
The multitude of nations shall be to Ephraim, not to Manasseh. I am inclined to believe it is the mass of Israel's tribes, but the whole body of the peoples of Israel was counted to Ephraim.
The reversal did not stop with two boys. It ran through both families, and it was not open to appeal.
- Dim eyes, clear sight — Jacob's eyes had failed, but he had never seen more clearly. He crossed his hands on purpose, not by mistake.
- Grace, not birth — the two boys had no claim by birth. Adoption, the double portion and the reversal all came from grace, and faith's work was to accept it.
- The lowly lifted — the younger goes above the elder, and Reuben the firstborn loses his place. God humbles human pride and shows His sovereignty.
- Fruitful over forgetting — Manasseh's name means forgetting, Ephraim's means fruitful, and fruitfulness takes first place.
- Fullness of nations — the rest of Israel's tribes came under Ephraim's name, so the promise held. The choice was final, and we submit to it even where we cannot explain it.
And he blessed them that day, saying, In thee will Israel bless, saying, God make thee as Ephraim and Manasseh! And he set Ephraim before Manasseh.
Jacob's last blessing on Joseph's sons was not a private wish. It became a public formula. From that day on, Israel would bless its own children by naming these two boys. The verse also settles the drama of the crossed hands: Jacob put the younger boy first.
Jacob's eyesight is failing, but his spiritual sight is not. He holds his course even when his beloved son objects.
He acts no longer as nature would dictate, but as God would direct. He crosses his hands "intelligently," placing the right hand on the younger and the left hand on the elder... Joseph lets his natural thoughts rule him. He does not see the sovereignty of God, who blesses according to His own purpose. So he objects when Jacob gives first place to the younger son. Jacob, however, will not give way to Joseph's natural wishes. He knows exactly what he is doing. He can say, "I know, my son, I know." His spiritual vision was never brighter than at the moment when his natural vision had become dim with age.
Everything here is given, not earned. The boys had no claim by birth. Jacob's part is to agree with what God has decided.
All is grace on God's part, and all is faith in the heart of Jacob. The proper work and duty of faith is to accept the decisions of grace. That is just what grace is doing here. Grace adopts the sons of Joseph, who had no title in the flesh, and takes them into the family of Abraham. Grace gives them the firstborn's place and portion — the double portion — as if they were Reuben and Simeon. Grace sets the younger of them above the elder... Nature may resent this; but Jacob is true to the word of grace committed to him.
The order makes sense once you read the names.
The name Manasseh means Forgetting, which is negative. Ephraim means Fruitful, which is clearly positive. The first man and his race are negative toward God. They are the complete denial of all His thoughts. In Christ, the Second Man, is the Yes and Amen to all God's thoughts, and all fruitfulness is found in Him. He is indeed the Man of God's right hand.
Another writer links the same two names to Paul's words about the past.
We find the law of spiritual increase in him, shown by the name of his son "Ephraim" — "fruitfulness." But the way to fruitfulness runs through "Manasseh" — "forgetfulness." It was the same with the apostle: "forgetting what lies behind ... I press on." Manasseh is in fact the first-born. But the end is greater than the means, so Ephraim is greater than Manasseh in the mind of God. Nature often resists such a simple conclusion in us, as it did in Joseph here.
Jacob had once obtained a father's blessing by trickery, taking advantage of a blind old man. Now he is the blind father himself, and this time there is no trick.
Jacob saw clearly, where Isaac had been dim. Jacob saw more clearly than Joseph, who until then had been given sharper insight into divine things than other men of God. What deep self-judgment must have gone through Israel's spirit, as he looked back on the blessing he had once stolen by his own trickery! Could the Lord not have crossed Isaac's hands Himself, to His own glory and without shaming His servant, and so kept His word of promise to Jacob? How sad that Jacob did not trust Him!
The words spoken over these grandsons had a national outcome.
The wealth that went with the birthright went to Joseph, the first son of Rachel, the loved wife. The first-born had a right to a double portion of the inheritance. Or rather, that wealth went to Ephraim and Manasseh, Joseph's sons. Jacob had already blessed them and more or less adopted them as his own sons. So Ephraim and Manasseh gained a place of their own among the tribes of Israel.
- Faith sees. Jacob's eyes were dim, but he crossed his hands on purpose. His spiritual sight was sharpest when his eyesight was gone.
- Grace chooses. The boys had no natural claim. Their adoption, their double portion, and the younger set above the elder are all decisions of grace.
- Faith agrees. Joseph pushed back out of natural affection. Jacob's answer, "I know, my son, I know," is faith accepting what grace has decided.
- The names teach. Manasseh means "forgetting," Ephraim means "fruitful." Forgetting is the means, fruitfulness is the end — and God puts the end first.
- Israel repeats it. One old man's words over two grandsons became the nation's own form of blessing. They also gave Ephraim and Manasseh a tribal place of their own.
And Israel said to Joseph, Behold, I die; and God will be with you, and bring you again to the land of your fathers.
Jacob's life ends far from home, in Egypt, with Joseph and two grandsons at his bedside. His last words to Joseph are not about what he leaves behind. They are about who goes with his sons after he is gone.
Jacob states his death plainly, without alarm. One writer asks what a dying man still has to stand on:
Jacob was dying. He says boldly, "Behold, I am about to die, but God will be with you." He speaks of death while "leaning on the top of his staff." It is as if he were still on his pilgrim journey, about to move from one place to another. God is the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac. He is still in covenant with them. He has never dissolved His relationship with them, but is unchangeable towards them in it. Death would not dissolve his relationship to God, even "the God of Bethel." He had not received the promises in his lifetime, but he embraced them so firmly that he could count on God making everything good in resurrection. "He is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live to Him."
The staff phrase is from Hebrews 11:21; the ESV reads "bowing in worship over the head of his staff."
Everything turns on two words. Jacob had spent his life arranging outcomes for himself; here the arranging stops.
In this verse we hear the accents of faith. Israel knew that he was about to die, but his eye was lifted from himself to God. He had done much scheming in his time. But now he recognised that the only thing that really mattered was the presence and purpose of God. It did not matter what he himself had been, or what his sons would prove themselves to be. God would be true to them, and true to His purpose to give them the land He had promised. In the end, God and His word held Israel's soul steady. We will be happy if we find, long before the end of life's journey, that stability and security are there, and only there.
The promise is not wishful thinking. Jacob hands his sons a God he has tested — in blessing, in grief, and in what looked like disaster:
God had blessed Jacob at the beginning. He had held him up in his great sorrow when Rachel died. He had made what seemed to be his greatest disaster work for rich blessing. That same God would be with the sons of Jacob after their father had left them. Jacob had good reason for his confidence in God. His sons could rely on the God of Jacob, who had brought their father safely through his many trials.
Earlier in his life, Jacob had prayed to the God of his father and grandfather. One writer contrasts that distance with the ease of his dying words:
Notice how he addresses the Lord: "O God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac." He could not say "my God." He was not near enough to Him at that time. But when he was dying, he was near enough to say it. Then he turned and said to Joseph, "Behold, I am about to die, but God will be with you." He knew Him, and was at home with Him then. Jacob was in a very different state of soul on his deathbed.
Jacob's wealth is his faith, and he hands it on. Another man of faith said goodbye in the same way, to the elders of the church at Ephesus:
And what a blessing the lads got from the dying pilgrim. There was great faith in Jacob, to be able, in holy confidence of soul, to transfer the blessing from himself to them. He was "rich in faith" himself, and left his riches to Joseph and his sons. "Behold, I am about to die, but God will be with you and will bring you again to the land of your fathers." Another pilgrim who was "rich in faith" spoke in the same way to the elders of Ephesus. He told them they would not see his face again, but said, "I commend you to God."
Jacob promises his sons a land he never lived in himself. One writer explains how a man can hold a blessing he never saw:
Jacob did not say, "Because I have not lived in the land, I have not got the blessing." No! he had it by faith. "These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth." God is always the same to faith. Faith raises us above all human thoughts, and gives us rest in God.
- I am about to die — Jacob names his death calmly. It is the next step of a pilgrim's journey, not the end of his tie to God.
- But God — the turn of the verse. A lifelong schemer rests everything on God's presence and purpose, not on his own plans.
- With you — he leaves his sons the God he has tested himself, through sorrow, loss and seeming disaster.
- Again to the land — the promise outlives the man. He dies holding a land he never lived in, because faith keeps what it has not yet received.
- Passed on — his riches were in God, so he could hand them on whole, just as another pilgrim later commended the elders at Ephesus to God.
And *I* have given to thee one tract [of land] above thy brethren, which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with my bow.
Jacob's last words to Joseph hand over property, not a blessing: one strip of land in Canaan, given by a dying man in Egypt. Two questions follow: why does Joseph get it, and when did Jacob ever fight the Amorites for it?
Where the ESV reads "one mountain slope," older translations read "one portion above your brothers." One writer ties that phrase to the legal share of an eldest son:
"A double portion" refers to the share of a firstborn or eldest heir. So in Genesis 48:22, Israel says to Joseph, "I have given to you one portion above your brothers." Joseph received the birthright of Reuben (1 Chronicles 5:1-2). Deuteronomy 21:17 can be compared too. A similar Hebrew phrase occurs there, and the sense is beyond question a double portion compared with what other heirs might get.
Reuben's birthright was not handed on in one piece. It was split:
The position linked with the birthright went to Judah, the fourth son of Leah. The wealth linked with it went to Joseph, the first son of Rachel, the loved one. The firstborn had a right to a double portion of the inheritance. Or rather it went to Joseph's sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. Jacob had already blessed them and more or less adopted them as his own sons.
One writer sees the gift as earned, and the ground itself as a sample of the larger inheritance:
It is easy for us to say that Joseph earned the birthright. Judah earned the royalty, Levi the priesthood, and so Joseph the double portion. His father gave him a pledge, a down payment on the inheritance, and it was characteristic of that inheritance. It was a sample as well. It spoke of the inheritance as it would be in Joseph's hand. This portion had been won, and so had Joseph's. Jacob's sword had gained this piece of ground, as Joseph's patience had gained the inheritance and the birthright.
Other passages name the same plot. But the earlier record of how Jacob got it does not read like a battle:
The last verse of the chapter seems to refer to an event not recorded before. We read of "the field that Jacob gave to his son Joseph" (John 4:5), and Joshua 24:32 seems to refer to this gift as well. If so, we must identify it with the deal recorded in Genesis 33:19. That stands close to the violent action of his sons Simeon and Levi, yet nothing there says anything about a sword and bow in Jacob's hands. Still, Jacob gained a portion in the land by conflict as well as by purchase, and he gave it to Joseph. Joseph became lord of that little piece of the land as well as lord of all Egypt. It was a kind of foretaste and pledge that in the end the whole land would be theirs.
Commentators differ on how to fill that silence. One lets it stand as an unrecorded conquest, and looks at what it meant for Joseph:
He reminds Joseph again that he had given him a portion double to that of his brothers. He speaks of taking it by conquest from the Amorites, the enemies inside the land of Canaan, though we have no record of such warfare. But the sufferer, Joseph, is well repaid for all the affliction he had seen.
Another writer looks at how Jacob had got land earlier — by paying men for what God had given him:
Jacob buys a place to live in. He buys from man what God had given him. He had acted the same way before, getting God's gift of grace and Isaac's blessing by craft. He gives up the rights of God, and even denies them, so that he can buy it back for himself.
The strangest feature of the verse is the setting. Jacob is nowhere near the property he is signing over:
The only material thing mentioned in this chapter is the portion he had taken out of the hand of the Amorite, with his sword and his bow (v. 22). But Jacob is not in the land of the Amorite now. He does not actually hold it.
What makes the bequest solid is not a title deed but a relationship that death cannot cancel:
Jacob had faith in God. Death would not end his relationship with God, even "the God of Bethel." Like his fathers, he "died in faith, not having received the promises" (Hebrews 11:13). But he had so "embraced them" that he could count on God making everything good in resurrection.
- Forfeited. Reuben lost the firstborn's right. Joseph received it, and this verse speaks the language of a firstborn's double share.
- Divided. Rule went to Judah. The double portion of wealth went to Joseph, and then to his sons Ephraim and Manasseh.
- Earned. One writer sees the gift as reward: Joseph gained the inheritance by patience, as Jacob gained this ground by the sword.
- Pledge. The small plot is a down payment: one strip held now, the whole land promised later.
- Trusted. Jacob signs away land he is not standing on. He counts on a God whose promises outlast death.
And Jacob called his sons, and said, Gather yourselves together, and I will tell you what will befall you at the end of days.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Assemble yourselves, and hear, ye sons of Jacob, And listen to Israel your father.
Jacob is dying. He has gathered all twelve sons, and before he says a word about any one of them he calls them twice to listen — naming himself first as Jacob, then as Israel.
Jacob spent his life scheming for himself, yet his sight was clearest at the end:
In youth those eyes were too keen for "his own things." Then they were opened to see clearly the future of his sons up to, and at, the end of days. Truly no prophecy comes from its own interpretation. No prophecy was ever produced by the will of man. Men spoke from God, carried along by the Holy Spirit, Who does not stop short of His glorious purpose for Christ in the latter day.
He calls them sons of Jacob, then asks them to hear Israel their father. The two names tell two different stories:
They were the sons of JACOB. They took their character from their poor father, the supplanter, whose up-and-down history is so well known. Even so, Jacob speaks with the conscious dignity God had given him: "Listen to ISRAEL your father." Jacob's own history foreshadows that of his descendants. At the beginning it was marked by deceit and sorrow; at the end it was graced by dignity and honour.
That second name also fixes the role he takes:
He speaks as "Israel their father" — that is, as a man of God in the true form of a prophet.
Many call this chapter Jacob's blessing. The label needs care:
The last words of Jacob to his sons are often called "the blessings." What he said is rather a prophecy. He said the most about Judah, because from Judah was to come Shiloh, that is, the Messiah. Jacob's prophecy covers in a remarkable way the entire history of Israel — past, present and future.
That reach decides how to read the whole chapter:
In Genesis 49, we find Jacob still presented to us as a man of faith. He called his sons together to pronounce a blessing on them. He was conscious that in doing so he was speaking as a prophet, foretelling what would happen to them in the last days. We are therefore on safe ground when we take his words to refer to "the last days," and not just to the nearer future of the tribes.
All twelve had to be there, because each son stands at the head of a tribe:
Now at the age of 147 he called for all his sons to tell them their future. That future would reach much further than any of them would live to see, but it applies to each tribe, going on to "the last days" (v. 1). For each tribe borrows its character from the character of its head.
Speaking cost the father dearly:
Now, under the Spirit and as the oracle of God, he had to retrace in their presence the ways of his sons in past days. He had to trace the fruit of those ways in days still to come. He had to do much of this with a wounded heart, and with memories that might well be deeply humbling. For these words about his sons were a kind of judgment on himself for his past carelessness about his children.
The order of the sons is the order of the story, and it does not end where it starts:
On the whole, I think we have a complete history of Israel in this way. First his failure: Reuben, Simeon, and Levi — corruption and violence, as already noted. Then Judah, God's purpose in His people, in connection with the royal line and Shiloh. This is plain enough. To Him the gathering of the peoples was to be.
Much of what the sons heard that day was beyond them. It is not beyond us:
Now the Spirit of God has come to guide us into "all truth" (John 16:13), and He has revealed the mysteries of Jacob's remarkable prophecy. We are now able to read there the history of the nation — what has already been fulfilled, and what still waits to be fulfilled. Above all we read of the true Shiloh who, as God's anointed, will gather Israel around Him in His kingdom.
- Summoned. Jacob calls in all twelve, because each son's character stamps the tribe that comes from him.
- Named. They are sons of Jacob the supplanter, yet he asks them to hear Israel their father — the name that carries the dignity God gave him.
- Prophecy. What follows is prophecy more than blessing — a prophet's word about the last days.
- Cost. The father had to retrace his sons' past ways aloud, words that judged his own carelessness too.
- Centre. The line runs from failure in the eldest sons to Judah and Shiloh, to whom the gathering of the peoples will be.
Reuben, thou art my firstborn, My might, and the firstfruits of my vigour Excellency of dignity, and excellency of strength.
Jacob's final words open with his eldest son. The first line is pure honour. Reuben holds four titles: firstborn, his father's might, the first proof of his strength, and the top of the family in rank and power. But one question hangs over them all. Did the man match the title?
The word "firstborn" here is not only about birth order. It carries a weight of standing that placed Reuben above his brothers.
Jacob used the term "firstborn" in this general sense of dignified excellence when blessing his unworthy eldest son, Reuben: "Reuben, you are my firstborn, my might, and the firstfruits of my strength, preeminent in dignity and preeminent in power" (Gen. 49:3). That is the rank the title of "firstborn" gave Reuben over his brothers. But in his case its value to him and his descendants was largely lost through his own sinful failure.
Jacob's four titles describe Reuben's position, not the man himself. That position also carried legal rights.
This is what he was as the firstborn. In himself he was "unstable as water," and he should not excel. Gen. 49:3-4. He forfeited his birthright for defiling his father's bed. It was given to Joseph, who in Ephraim and Manasseh had a double portion among the tribes. 1 Chr. 5:1. The law declared that if a man's firstborn son was by a wife he hated, he must not put another wife's son in his place. The firstborn must have a double portion of all that the man owned, "for he is the firstfruits of his strength. The right of the firstborn is his." Deut. 21:16-17. … Esau is called a profane person for selling his birthright. It was a privilege God had given him, and he should have valued it as such. Gen. 25:31-34; Heb. 12:16.
These four titles set the standard for Reuben's life.
Reuben was the firstborn. In him above all, the might, the strength, the dignity and the power of Jacob should show. The very beginning of Jacob's strength and excellency were to appear in him. And what appeared? Nothing but instability and self-gratification — defiling, an outrage on all natural decency. What a disappointment for Jacob, to see this evil come out as the beginning of his strength!
The greatness named here is real. It is the dignity God gave to human nature. But that same gift turned into Reuben's ruin.
Reuben stands for the dignity of nature — not the flesh, for God does not bless the flesh. He stands for man as natural: fallen now, yes, but not fallen of necessity. Man's nobility lies in his intelligent will, and only such a will truly deserves the name. Without it he would be a mere machine worked by other hands, or a boat adrift with no oar or rudder. … Sin has come in, and his will has become self-will — an independent energy stamped with "vanity." That is a "bubbling over," which is what the word "unstable," used here of Reuben, really means. … So the will in man has lost its dignity, and become his degradation.
Reuben is not the first son in this book to hold a title he could not keep.
The firstborn are pictures of human excellence. They are the sons with a natural claim to the birthright, the place of honour and rule. … "Reuben," says the dying father, "you are my firstborn … preeminent in dignity and preeminent in power." But he had to add, "Unstable as water, you shall not have preeminence." So the firstborn sons in the book of Genesis lose the place of blessing. Cain, what is he? Ishmael gives place to Isaac; Esau to Jacob; Reuben to Joseph. "That which is first is natural, and afterwards that which is spiritual."
Another writer names where the pattern leads:
The fallen, unstable first man must give place to the Second Man. He is the only One who could stand before God. And He stands for the feeblest of those who put their trust in Him.
Jacob's words here are prophecy, not just family history.
It is a complete historical prophecy. In it we see, as in a mirror, God's account of men, shown in the twelve tribes. The great lesson in it is the setting aside of the responsible man (the first man), and the bringing in of Christ. All true blessing, whether heavenly or earthly, must come through the second Man.
- Title given — "firstborn" meant dignified excellence and first rank. Reuben stood above his brothers by birth.
- Rights attached — the place carried a double portion of the family property, a privilege from God. Esau sold his and is called profane.
- Trust broken — the four titles named what Reuben's life should have shown. Instead came instability and self-gratification.
- Birthright moved — the honour passed to Joseph. Cain, Ishmael and Esau lost their place too: what is first is natural, and the spiritual comes after.
- Second Man — the chapter sets aside the first man and brings in Christ. All true blessing comes through Him.
Impetuous as the waters, thou shalt have no pre-eminence; Because thou wentest up to thy father's couch Then defiledst thou [it] he went up to my bed.
Jacob has just named Reuben as his firstborn, his might, the first of his strength — and then, in one line, takes it all back. The verse turns a father's highest praise into a sentence of loss. How can a man hold the top place by birth and still lose it by his own conduct?
The word behind "unstable" pictures moving water:
The word "unstable" means the boiling and swilling of water. It is the surging up of the passion and force of nature, which cannot be trusted in the things of God. It ends here in positive evil.
Another writer renders the word "bubbling over" and traces it to a will turned in on itself:
Sin has come in, and his will has become self-will — an independent energy with "vanity" stamped on it. It is a "bubbling over," which is what the word "unstable," used here of Reuben, really means. And it does not hesitate to shame and defile the man himself, who is its source.
Losing preeminence was not a vague threat. The birthright carried rank and wealth, and both went to other sons:
Reuben did forfeit his birthright, and it was entirely his own fault. He had gone up to his father's bed and committed adultery with Bilhah, his father's concubine, and so he lost his privileges. The position linked with the birthright went to Judah, the fourth son of Leah. The wealth linked with it went to Joseph, since the firstborn had a right to a double portion of the inheritance.
One writer marks the distance between pardon and position:
The man who dishonoured his father — and in a way not even found among the nations that do not know God — was forgiven. But he lost his birthright. He could have no pre-eminence now, nor when God's kingdom comes for the earth.
Reuben is not the first eldest son to lose his place. Genesis repeats the pattern:
The firstborn are pictures of human excellence, the sons who had a natural claim to the birthright, the place of honour and rule. "Reuben," says the dying father, "you are my firstborn, my might, and the firstfruits of my strength." But he had to add, "Unstable as water, you shall not have preeminence." So the firstborn in the book of Genesis lose the place of blessing. Cain, what is he? Ishmael gives place to Isaac; Esau to Jacob; Reuben to Joseph.
One writer sees Reuben's character repeated in the nation itself:
Here we have a prediction of what marked Israel the nation all through their sad history, and especially when they were tested under the law. In the wilderness or in the land, under Moses or Joshua or the Judges or the Kings, their story is one long record of unstable swings between the worship of the LORD and of idols. Their adulterous link with false gods defiled them. And they were the sample nation, chosen so that the test of man might be carried out in them. In their condemnation all the nations stand condemned, ourselves included.
The leader of Reuben's tribe carried a name that answered Jacob's word:
Reuben's prince is Elizur the son of Shedeur. The meaning of the first name is beyond question, and it is beautiful — "God is a Rock." What a contrast to the instability of Reuben is the rock-like stability of God! And it is the learning of this, and how to build on it, that gives stability to the unstable. In ourselves there is never strength, and the way of strength for us is to know this: "when I am weak, then am I strong."
Moses blesses the same tribes, and his list reads differently:
Jacob gives the history of what his sons did, and some of it is most sad and humbling. Moses presents instead the workings of God's grace, both in them and toward them. Jacob records the evil deeds of Reuben, Simeon and Levi; Moses leaves them out entirely. Jacob views his sons in their personal history. Moses views them in their covenant relationship with the LORD. Jacob gives us human failure, weakness and sin. Moses gives us God's faithfulness, goodness and loving-kindness.
- Boiling, not calm. "Unstable" pictures water surging and boiling over. In the things of God, that force cannot be trusted.
- Self-will. That force turns inward and becomes self-will. It shames and defiles the very man it comes from.
- Forfeit. The rule passed to Judah and the double portion to Joseph; the sin was Reuben's own fault, and the loss was real.
- Forgiven, not first. Forgiven, yes; restored to the place, never. Pardon and pre-eminence are not the same thing.
- The Rock. What Reuben lacked, God is. Stability comes from building on Him, not from strength in ourselves. And Moses' blessing shows grace speaking after Jacob's verdict.
Simeon and Levi are brethren Instruments of violence their swords.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
My soul, come not into their council; Mine honour, be not united with their assembly; For in their anger they slew men, And in their wantonness houghed oxen.
Jacob, near death, does something you would not expect in a blessing: he pulls his own soul back from two of his sons. His words look back to a massacre at Shechem, and they raise a hard question — what does a father do when his sons kill in the family's name?
His words point back to a crime recorded earlier in Genesis, where the two brothers killed every man in a city.
These two brothers are considered together, and united in cruelty and violence. Nothing good is said about them at all. Jacob refused to be identified with them in their rampage of murder, driven by their bitter anger. He refers to their slaughter of all the men in the city of Hamor and Shechem.
The brothers had a defence ready: they were avenging their sister. Jacob does not accept the trade — the honour they claimed to protect was not the honour they damaged. Where the ESV says "my glory," older translations read "my honour," and the writers below use that older wording.
Their father never forgot their cruel and violent action, recorded in Genesis 34. He separated himself from it. They claimed to be avenging their sister's honour. But Jacob would not join his honour to what they did, and he condemned it as the fruit of their anger.
Their revenge wore a religious cover. One writer sees a verdict here on cruelty done in God's name, and points to the ox as proof that the harm spread beyond the guilty.
They band together and deceive, as religious bigotry always does, but every truly religious man will echo Jacob's rejection of it. The innocent suffer with the guilty in these cursed crusades — the innocent ox with the guilty Shechem — and Shechem was not half as bad as they were. The worst part of this crime is that they do it in the name of God, of religious order and separation. So they make thoughtless people hate religion, and they manage to wrong the world and the church at the same time.
Commentators differ over the last phrase. The ESV reads "hamstrung oxen." Others keep the older reading, "they dug down a wall," and admit the text is uncertain.
The last clause of verse 6 is unclear, because the reading is not certain. But take it as it stands: "they dug down a wall." We may apply this to their murder of their Messiah and Deliverer. In killing Him they destroyed their own separated position, and so dug down the wall of protection that had been theirs.
Jacob is not just a shocked bystander. He chose to settle at Shechem himself, and one writer sees the sons finishing what their father began.
In the end he sees what all this really was — the fruit of his living at Shechem. In self-will a man had been killed there, and a fence thrown down. But Jacob himself had dug down God's fence before. The call of God had raised a wall between the clean and the unclean, between the Jew and the Gentile. Jacob himself, in spirit, had broken that wall down when he settled as a citizen or landowner on his purchased estate at Shechem.
Jacob would not enter their council. Neither could God. Yet Levi's own tribe ended up carrying the holy vessels of the tabernacle.
How striking the language is! God could not come into Levi's council, or join his company. That was impossible. God could have nothing to do with self-will, fierceness, and cruelty. Yet He could bring Levi into His own council, and join him to His company. He could take him out of his home, where the instruments of cruelty were. He could bring him into the tabernacle to handle the holy instruments and vessels there. This was grace — free, sovereign grace. Here we must look for the basis of all Levi's blessed and high service.
Nature and grace tied Levi to two opposite covenants.
By nature he was "joined" in a covenant of murder; by grace "joined" in a covenant of "life and peace." The former, because he was "fierce and cruel"; the latter, because he feared and was afraid of the Lord's name.
- United in evil. Jacob judges the brothers as a pair because they acted as a pair. He saw only cruelty and violence, and refused to be identified with them.
- Refused union. They said they were defending their sister's honour. Jacob refused to tie his own honour to what their anger produced.
- Religion as cover. Their revenge came dressed as religion, and the innocent suffered with the guilty. Violence done in God's name wrongs the world and the church at once.
- Fence dug down. Writers differ on the last line: "hamstrung oxen" or "dug down a wall." On the older reading, Jacob's own move to Shechem had already broken God's fence down.
- Joined by grace. God could not enter Levi's company, but He could bring Levi into His own. By nature Levi was joined to a covenant of murder; by grace, to a covenant of life and peace, and to holy service.
Cursed be their anger, for it [was] violent; And their rage, for it [was] cruel! I will divide them in Jacob, And scatter them in Israel.
Jacob's last words to Simeon and Levi are the harshest in the chapter. There is no blessing here — only a curse on their anger and a sentence of scattering. The words look back to the killings in Genesis 34. They also look forward to what God would do with two tribes under their father's judgment.
The sentence has a history. Levi's first recorded act in Scripture is not a service but a slaughter.
The first action of Levi that the Scriptures record is an act of cruelty. Levi was one of Jacob's twelve sons. Excessive wrath drove him, and he acted in a deceitful way. Read the account in Genesis 34: "Simeon and Levi... took their swords and came against the city while it felt secure and killed all the males" (Gen. 34:25). Jacob had to say: "You have brought trouble on me" (Gen. 34:30). This is why, later, the blessing of the tribe of Levi was turned into a curse.
The brothers had a defence ready. Jacob answers the deed, not the excuse behind it.
Simeon and Levi come next. Their father never forgot their cruel and violent action, recorded in Genesis 34. He dissociated himself from it. They claimed to be avenging the honour of their sister. But Jacob would not join his own honour to what they did, and he denounced it as the fruit of their anger.
The two had acted as one. The punishment answers that partnership.
These two brothers are considered together, and united in cruelty and violence... Then comes a prophetic sentence: "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." Their unity in evil would result in division even among the tribes.
The same sentence fell on both brothers. Grace did not do the same thing with each of them.
As a consequence of Simeon and Levi's sin, these two brothers were "divided in Jacob and scattered in Israel" (Gen. 49:7). However, they differed from each other. In grace the Lord used Levi's dispersion to give him priestly functions suited to his position. It was otherwise for Simeon, who continued to bear the mark of God's judgment... Simeon was small in number. His land lay partly inside Judah's territory, was open to enemy attacks on the south, and had no definite borders.
The most striking thing about this verse is what God later did with it. The scattering stayed; its meaning changed.
It may be instructive to compare the case of Levi as an instance of God making His judgment an occasion of blessing. Genesis 49:7 says, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." But in Deuteronomy 33:10 we see Him overrule that dividing and scattering. It made them teach "Jacob your rules, and Israel your law" more effectively. "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
The change went deeper than Levi's duties. Grace reversed every mark that nature had left on him.
By nature he was "joined" in a covenant of murder; by grace "joined" in a covenant of life and peace... By nature Levi was familiar with the instruments of cruelty; by grace, with the instruments of God's tabernacle. By nature God could not come into Levi's assembly; by grace, Levi is brought into God's assembly.
Jacob is not only settling an old family score. Some writers read this fierce anger as a preview of something far larger.
It refers, we believe, to that terrible outbreak of anger and cruelty in the nation, which reached its climax in the rejection and death of Christ. Stephen speaks of Him as "the Righteous One," in contrast to the sinful men killed by Simeon and Levi. He added, "whom you have now betrayed and murdered" (Acts 7:52). Strikingly enough, Simeon and Levi achieved their murderous intent by a preliminary act of betrayal.
The verse also speaks to daily life. Anger that stays does not stay harmless.
Anger is allowed in a believer, but it must not become a settled feeling... There is a holy indignation. The sight of shameless evil may stir it, and it is far from private hostility... When harboured as a lasting sentiment, it is sin; and in its results it is nearer to cursing than to blessing.
- Deed — Levi's first recorded act is a deceitful massacre (Genesis 34), and Jacob never forgot it.
- Denounced — Jacob refuses to own the act; avenging their sister does not excuse the anger behind it.
- Divided — brothers who acted as one are split apart; the sentence mirrors the partnership.
- Diverged — Levi's scattering became priestly service; Simeon stayed small, with no borders of his own.
- Overruled — God turned the scattering into teaching and priestly service, so where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.
Judah -- [as to] thee, thy brethren will praise thee; Thy hand will be upon the neck of thine enemies; Thy father's children will bow down to thee.
Jacob is blessing his sons before he dies. The words over Simeon and Levi were hard ones. At the fourth son the tone changes, and Judah receives the family's future. The verse plays on his name and sets two groups before us: brothers and enemies. It also raises a question. Why did this son, of all of them, get the place of honour?
Judah's name means "praise." It came from his mother's own words at his birth, spoken in the middle of her grief:
And again she bore a son, and said, "Now I will praise Jehovah"; so she called his name Judah. Never do we hear of her soul rising so high. The sorrow-stricken woman breaks out in praise of Jehovah, and her fourth son carries it in the name she gave him that day. Yes, from Judah, in human descent, came the Christ, who is over all, God blessed for ever. Amen. How much His grace rises above our praise!
The verse names two groups, and each meets Judah in a different way:
The blessing of Judah strikes an entirely different note. In verses 8-12 we turn to a prophecy about Christ. He was rejected and killed, yet He comes out triumphant in both grace and judgment. There is a play on Judah's name, for it means "Praise." And Christ is to be the Object of universal praise, as we see in Revelation 5. Verse 8 shows two classes: his brothers and his enemies. His brothers are to sound out his praise, and his enemies are to feel the power of his hand putting them down. Here his father's children are to bow down before Judah, who stands for Christ, just as they were earlier to bow down before Joseph, since he stood for Christ.
Judah's record does not explain his promotion. He shared his brothers' hatred of Joseph, and Genesis 38 opens up his private life — yet he is the one lifted up:
"Judah prevailed." What a gracious way of declaring God's pre-determined purpose! In history, how did Judah prevail so as to get this honour? He was one with his brothers in their hatred of Joseph... Judah's prevailing is simply the will of God. So he prevailed, not by his goodness. The Holy Spirit has given us a sketch of his home life, his private life, and Genesis 38 tells his character and his sin plainly. No other son of Jacob is brought into the light like this.
Commentators differ over where to put the weight. Another writer points instead to Judah's repentance:
The prophecy about Judah stands in great contrast to the one about Simeon and Levi, for all of it is favourable. Judah had been guilty of very serious wrong too. But his deeply felt repentance, seen in Genesis 44:18-34, was such that God was free to bless him greatly.
Reuben held the firstborn's place, but Judah receives the praise:
But first of all, Judah shows us a picture of Christ Himself. God's purpose is in Him, and Judah is the one whom his brothers shall praise. This could not be said of Reuben; there was nothing praiseworthy in him, whatever his position at the head of the family might have been... God's purpose is in Judah (Psalm 78:68), and here the Christ is brought before us as the One to be praised. Let us praise Him from our very hearts!
Read across the whole Bible, this verse is one step in a line of promise that keeps getting narrower:
"Behold the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has prevailed to open the book." Here we see the definite plans of God about the centre of His purposes on the earth. Judah was the one in whom the promises were centred... The general promise at the beginning was, "the offspring of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head." Then it all rested on Abraham's offspring: "in your offspring shall all the nations of the earth be blessed." The line became narrower and narrower. Judah was chosen from among his brothers, and last of all, the family of David.
The hand on the enemy's neck is the promise of a strength Judah does not produce himself:
The lion of the tribe of Judah tells us of this mighty power at work for God's ancient people. It matches the prophecy of Jacob, which foretells that Judah will prevail over his enemies — "Your hand shall be on the neck of your enemies." In order that Judah may prevail he has the strength of "a young lion." But the real source of Judah's strength is that out of that tribe the One would come to whom the people would gather (Gen. 49:8-10). Christ is the true Lion of Judah.
- Praise named. Judah means "praise" — the name a grieving mother gave her fourth son, and from him came the Christ.
- Praise undeserved. Judah shared his brothers' hatred of Joseph, and Genesis 38 tells his sin plainly. His prevailing is simply the will of God, not his goodness.
- Praise through repentance. Commentators differ. Some stress that it was simply God's will. Others point to his deep repentance in Genesis 44, which left God free to bless him greatly.
- Praise, not position. Reuben had the firstborn's rank, but nothing to praise. The honour follows God's purpose, not birth order.
- Praise fulfilled. The line narrows: the woman's offspring, then Abraham, then Judah, then David. It ends in the Lion of the tribe of Judah, whose hand subdues every enemy.
Judah is a young lion; From the prey, my son, thou art gone up. He stoopeth, he layeth himself down as a lion, And as a lioness who will rouse him up?
Jacob is dying. He turns to his fourth son and paints him as a lion, full-fed and lying down where no one dares disturb him. The picture raises three questions: who is this lion, when did He go up, and what happens when He rises?
One writer traces the verse from a tribe's badge to victory, ascension, and the day the lion wakes.
Judah is the royal tribe whose ensign was a lion, and from him Messiah sprang. Lions stand for the majesty and dignity of Israel's throne. Think of that, and you get some sense of the true dignity of the nation as linked to the Son of David. Judah is a young lion. "From the prey, my son, you have gone up," says Jacob... We live in the light of accomplished redemption, with the power of Satan broken at the cross. So we can see how He has gone up, having stripped principalities and powers and triumphed over them... "But who shall rouse Him up?" That shall be the day of the vengeance of our God.
Two different verbs describe the lion going down. They do not mean the same thing.
Judah was to stoop and lie down. The first of these original words implies a forced lowering; the second a voluntary humiliation (Psalm 102:10; Philippians 2:7). But he was to lie down as a lion, and in the end to rise up in royal dignity and judgment. It is, in principle, the "sufferings of Christ and the glories that follow." At the end of the Book, the apostle John is called to look at the Lion of Judah, who had prevailed to open and carry out God's decrees for the world. John turned and saw, not a lion, but a "Lamb, as though it had been slain." That was how the lion had prevailed: by humiliation, suffering and death. He went down into them so as to rise again into royal dominion and power.
Who dares rouse him? The question points to a strength the world has not yet met.
The lion is a type of unstoppable strength. It may act lawlessly, or, as here, in the righteous carrying out of God's judgments, for "a king's wrath is like the growling of a lion." (Proverbs 19:12.)... These prophecies are still unfulfilled; for He who holds God's mighty power, symbolised by the lion, has not yet appeared in this character. He has been on earth as a lamb led to the slaughter, but not as "the Lion of the tribe of Judah." This is the character, however, which He now takes.
Israel did once see a lion-king rise from Judah. But David's reign was only a rehearsal.
So it is Christ that Jacob has in spirit before him when he sees Judah taking on the lion-character. In David the lion-character did rise up for a short time, just as predicted. But the brief glory of his kingdom only foretold and announced the better glory of Christ's lasting one. So the Lion of the tribe of Judah is not only the "Branch of David," springing out of the cut-down tree. He is also, as here, the Root of David, and David himself gets all his real meaning from Him... David's throne is to be lifted up from the dust, and Judah's long-delayed hope is to open out into fulfilment. The thought of Judah's Lion cannot be separated from Judah taking the prey, and then lying down with a front of power that no one will dare to disturb.
A dying man's word about a lion looks small until you follow it to the last book of the Bible.
In verse 9 Judah is compared to a lion, as a king among beasts. Here we see a hint of Christ acting in judgment. Genesis is the seed-plot of the Bible. We pass on to Revelation, where everything comes to fruition and finality, and in Revelation 5 we find "the Lion of the tribe of Judah" about to take the book of judgment and break its seals. And the universe is filled with His praises.
Judah's record was not clean. So why is his blessing the warmest of them all?
The prophecy about Judah is in great contrast to the one about Simeon and Levi, for it is all favourable. Though Judah had also been guilty of very serious wrong, his deeply felt repentance, seen in Genesis 44:18-34, was such that God was free to bless him greatly. His brothers would praise him (Judah means "praise"). He would subdue his enemies. His father's children would bow to his authority. He is likened to a lion, the king of beasts, feeding on the spoils of his conquest.
- Repentance — the son with a shameful record gets the royal blessing, because deep repentance left God free to bless.
- Prey — the lion feeds before he rests: at the cross He stripped principalities and powers.
- Gone up — He went down twice over, once forced and once by choice, and then rose: sufferings first, then the glories.
- Crouched — He is at rest now, and no one dares wake Him; the world has met Him as the Lamb, not yet as the Lion.
- Roused — when He rises, He opens God's decrees for the world, lifts David's throne from the dust, and brings the day of vengeance.
The sceptre will not depart from Judah, Nor the lawgiver from between his feet, Until Shiloh come, And to him will be the obedience of peoples.
Jacob is dying. He gathers his sons and tells them what will happen "in days to come." When he reaches Judah, the words reach far beyond one family. The verse fixes the royal line in Judah and promises the obedience of nations. Older translations read the middle line as "until Shiloh come," where the ESV has "until tribute comes to him." So two questions have followed this verse ever since: who is Shiloh, and when does the scepter pass?
Judah was not the firstborn, and his past held serious wrong. What sets him apart here is repentance that left God free to bless:
The prophecy about Judah is nothing like the one about Simeon and Levi. All of it is favourable. Judah had been guilty of very serious wrong too. But his repentance was deeply felt, as Genesis 44:18-34 shows, and God was free to bless him greatly. His brothers would praise him (Judah means "praise")… The scepter of royal authority would not depart from Judah, and neither would a lawgiver, until Shiloh came. Shiloh is the Lord Jesus. To Him would be the obedience of the people.
The staff "from between his feet" points to Judah's own descendants holding authority. History matched the words with striking precision:
"The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from between his feet (from among his descendants) until Shiloh come." This was remarkably fulfilled. The tribe always kept its cohesion and self-rule, even in captivity, until "a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered" — enrolled for taxation. The Jews were about to lose their nationality and merge into the Roman Empire as individuals. Joseph and Mary had gone to their home town of Bethlehem for the very purpose of registering as Roman subjects. At that moment Messiah was born. Shiloh came.
Another writer weighs what the scepter itself stands for:
The "scepter" may be no more than the tribal symbol. If that is the sense, Judah was kept in that place until Shiloh, the Prince of Peace, came and was rejected. In due time the place was lost, until He comes again… If it means someone entitled to royal rule in Zion, that is true as well. So the line of David through Solomon ran on to Jesus, as Matthew 1 shows; and in Him — dead, risen and glorified — it remains, to be made good when God's time comes.
Commentators differ on how to translate this line. One reading takes Shiloh as a person who comes:
I believe, with the fullest authority in Hebrew, that the language allows us to take Shiloh as the subject and not the object. And the sense in the context, I believe, demands that we render it "until Shiloh (that is, Peace, or the Man of Peace, the Messiah) come."
Shiloh is also a place, and one reading has Judah coming to it. Set the Messiah reading aside, and a new problem appears:
The point that is hard to accept from the words is Israel's coming to Shiloh. Either it is "until rest come," or "until Judah come to Shiloh"… The ancient interpretations, the Targums and others, all take it as Messiah. If those are not accepted, then it is "till rest come," or "till Judah come to rest." The words "to him shall the gathering of the peoples be" are the difficulty then.
The reach of this promise turns on a single word:
At the end of that verse another striking fact appears. The word "people" is more correctly "peoples." It refers to the nations in general, and not just to the nation of Israel. Through His rejection and death, the coming of Shiloh has made Him the centre of gathering for a great crowd out of all nations. In the coming age He will be the visible centre of Israel and of the nations too.
Israel refused Shiloh when He came, so the gathering has not happened yet. That delay does not cancel the promise:
Shiloh came; but Israel were not ready, and refused Him. So the gathering (or the obedience) of the peoples, however certain, is still future. God's purpose seemed to fail. But the blood of the cross established it, though unbelief thinks the cross is its ruin. It is postponed, not lost.
- Chosen — Judah had serious wrong behind him, but he repented, and the royal blessing fell on him. His name means "praise."
- Kept — rule stayed with Judah's descendants, even in captivity, right up to the Roman registration that took Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem.
- Come — Shiloh means Peace, or the Man of Peace: the Messiah. Commentators differ over the wording, yet the ancient readings point to Him.
- Wide — the promise is to "peoples," plural: nations, not Israel alone, gathered around Him.
- Postponed — Israel refused Him, so the obedience of the nations is still ahead. The cross secured what unbelief thought it destroyed.
He bindeth his foal to the vine, And his ass's colt to the choice vine; He washeth his dress in wine, And his garment in the blood of grapes.
Jacob's dying words over Judah turn from a sceptre to a strange picture: a donkey tied to a vine, and clothes washed in wine. Commentators read a coming kingdom of peace and plenty here, and the King who brings it in, yet they differ over whose blood the "blood of grapes" means.
The verse hangs on the promise just before it. One writer names the ruler, then asks a hard question about His first coming.
Whatever the difficulties of this passage, one thing is clear. God promises a ruler from the tribe of Judah. The people will gather around Him, and He will bring in a period of peace and plenty. Most agree that this ruler is the Christ. But how does the prediction fit His first coming? At that time He was not the ruler. He was the One who had nowhere to lay His head.
A king tying his animal to a vine is a picture of lowliness, not of royal display. Later prophecy says the same, and the Gospels record the day it happened.
Verse 11 hints at His lowly character: He identifies Himself with the godly in Israel. People did not expect a king to ride a donkey, but a horse. Yet Zechariah 9:9 foretells the Lord Jesus coming to Jerusalem on a donkey, and the Gospels record how it happened (Matthew 21:1-9; Mark 11:1-10; Luke 19:35-38).
The verse names two animals, not one, and two vines — a vine, then a choice vine. One writer sees meaning in the pairing.
Binding his foal to the vine, and his donkey's colt to the choice vine, may point to the lowly ties of Messiah with Israel at His first coming. The first speaks of His link with the nation as a whole. The second speaks of His link with the remnant, the disciples.
The verse calls wine the blood of grapes. Some commentators read the stained garments as the blood Christ shed Himself.
But the vine and the "blood of the grapes" in which He washes His clothes stand for the voluntary sacrifice of the Lord Jesus on Calvary.
Other commentators take the stain the opposite way. It is not blood given, but blood spilled in judgment, as in Isaiah 63.
The washing of His dress in wine, and His garment in the blood of the grapes, is in harmony with Isaiah 63:1-6, where He comes in judgment.
This reading turns on one question: whose blood is it?
It is hard to see how this passage could apply to the work of Jesus on the cross. He wears glorious clothing. He is in all the greatness of His strength. He treads the winepress and tramples down the people in His anger. His garments are sprinkled with their blood, not theirs with His.
Wine also stands for gladness. One writer reads Judah's wine as a joy with no shadow over it.
The wine of joy stands for the remembrance of Christ's precious sacrifice… With this there is no drunkenness, no spoiled taste, no evil, but only good. Of Judah, the worshipper, it can be said, "He has washed his garments in wine, and his vesture in the blood of grapes; his eyes shall be red with wine." The fear of drinking too much never enters the soul here.
Israel refused its King, but the prophecy still stands. Only part of it has come true so far.
As it is, only the first part — the negative part — has been fulfilled. The rest waits for the coming thousand-year kingdom, when all nations will gather to the Shiloh of Judah and find blessing in Him.
- Ruler. Jacob promises a King from Judah who brings peace and plenty. That did not fit the One who had nowhere to lay His head.
- Lowly. A colt tied to a vine fits a King who entered Jerusalem on a donkey, not a war horse, as the Gospels record.
- Blood. Commentators differ on the stained garments. Some see the sacrifice of Christ. Others see the winepress of Isaiah 63, where the blood is His enemies'.
- Joy. Judah's wine is joy without excess, joy bound up with the remembrance of Christ's sacrifice.
- Waiting. Only the first part of Jacob's prophecy has come true. The gathering and blessing of the nations still lies ahead.
The eyes are red with wine, And the teeth [are] white with milk.
Jacob's dying words over Judah end not with a battle but with a face — eyes and teeth, wine and milk. The face belongs to the King who comes from Judah's line, and it is the last frame in a sequence that runs from the sceptre, through the winepress, to the gladness of His kingdom. (Older translations read "his eyes shall be red with wine, and his teeth white with milk"; the writers below use that wording.)
The blessing on Judah is not just about a man or a tribe. It follows a royal line that runs forward to one Person. The prophecy also fixes an end point for Judah's rule:
Judah, as we know, means "praise." … Judah, therefore, was not to lose the sceptre until Shiloh came (the "Man of peace") — Christ coming from Judah — and the obedience of the people would be to Him. This takes us clearly through the whole of Old Testament history and on into the New. Then, strange as it may seem, the prophecy implies that Judah's sceptre would pass away, just when the coming of Christ seemed set to make it permanent.
Verse 11 shows garments washed in the blood of grapes. Verse 12 turns to the face. One writer sets both features beside pictures of the same Person in Revelation:
His eyes red with wine are a contrast to "His eyes like a flame of fire" in Revelation 1:14, where He is presented as judging in righteousness. Here in Genesis 49:12 we see Him in grace. His teeth are white with milk too, and this speaks of the gentle nourishment of the Word of God. That is the contrast to the sharp sword coming out of His mouth in Revelation 1:16, which also stands for the Word of God, but in terrible judgment.
Read in order, the two verses move from stained clothing to a satisfied face. That order matters. The wine that soaks His garments belongs to judgment. The wine in His eyes belongs to what comes after.
The washing of His clothing in wine, and His garment in the blood of grapes, agrees with Isaiah 63:1-6, where He comes in judgment. The eyes red with wine seem to foretell the deep satisfaction of His joy on earth, once the judgment is past. The teeth white with milk speak of the pleasures that are His in the rest of His kingdom.
The verse pairs wine with milk. Each gives what the other cannot. The same joy is also the strength of anyone who lives before God:
What marks the life that comes from God is that it turns back to God again, and the joy of the Lord is always its strength. The "wine" that fills Judah's portion is the sign of a joy in which there can be no excess. The "milk" may show that here there is not only stimulation but nourishment as well — and in a form that even the youngest baby can take.
Some hold that the whole scene still waits, and that reading it as gospel history misses what kind of event it is:
With Judah there is more ground for speaking of something that continues. But to me it is clear and certain that the gathering of the nations to Shiloh, their obedience to Him, is still future. What is before us here is the kingdom, not the gospel — a future crisis, not past or present history.
Others are more careful. They take the donkey and the colt as the key clue, since those words return when Jesus rode into Jerusalem:
The prophetic hints in verses 11 and 12 are not so clear, since the language is highly poetic and figurative. Still, we cannot miss the words "his foal" and "his donkey's colt." They carry our thoughts at once to Zechariah's prophecy, and to how it was fulfilled when our Lord presented Himself to Jerusalem, as Matthew 21:5 shows. So the words look as if they belong to His first coming rather than His second, and so point to His sufferings and to the grace offered to us as their result.
- Praise — Judah's name means praise, and his sceptre stayed in place until Shiloh, the Man of peace, came from his line.
- Sceptre — the prophecy runs through Israel's whole history and lands on one Person. Verse 12 describes His face.
- Winepress — the garments washed in the blood of grapes match Isaiah 63. Judgment comes first, then the kingdom.
- Wine — eyes red with wine picture His deep satisfaction once that judgment is past. It is a joy in which there can be no excess.
- Milk — teeth white with milk add gentle nourishment: food in a form the youngest can take, and grace where Revelation shows a sword.
Zebulun will dwell at the shore of the seas; Yea, he will be at the shore of the ships, And his side [toucheth] upon Sidon.
Jacob is dying, and he tells each son what lies ahead. Zebulun's future takes one sentence: a shore, ships, and a border reaching to Sidon. Is that a promise of wealth, or a warning about where wealth leads?
Jacob's words to his sons form one sequence, not twelve separate sayings. One writer traces the fall in that sequence: from Judah's royal line, to trade with the nations, to the serpent.
Reuben, Simeon, and Levi are corrupt and violent. Judah is connected with God's purposes as to the royal line. Zebulun, a haven of ships, and Issachar, a strong donkey burdened, are linked with prosperity in commerce with the nations, or Gentiles. Then Dan is to judge his people. So when Israel joins with the Gentiles in that way (Zebulun and Issachar), you get the serpent brought in.
The order matters. Zebulun comes straight after the promise of Shiloh, the ruler who was to come. What follows shows where a people turn once they have refused Him.
Zebulun gives us the next picture of the history of Israel. Now that they have had Shiloh presented but have refused Him, the Jews find their comforts in dealings with the Gentiles. This is what they do now — trying to make themselves happy, when, if they weigh their own prophets, they must suspect a fatal error somewhere in their history. They have lost their Messiah, and they court the world.
Leah, his mother, named him Zebulun, which means dwelling — being close, at home with someone. Jacob picks a different word, and the change is the whole point.
In the fourth place, we come to Zebulun, and again Jacob points to his name. It means "dwelling with," in closeness, as Leah's use of it shows. But Jacob here uses another word, and in this place it clearly has a bad sense. Its primary meaning is "to lay oneself down." Zebulun does this at the haven of the sea — the haven for ships — and his border is toward Sidon. The idea of prosperity, or at least of working hard for it, is plain. Yet for Israel we must remember that this trade with the idolatrous nations was not a good sign, and it did not end well. Her border reaching out toward Sidon predicts a dangerous rubbing out of the line that divided Israel from the nations.
Sidon was more than a point on the map.
Here we find Zebulun in connection with the sea of peoples and nations. Zebulun (= dwelling) looked entirely towards the nations, and to Sidon in particular. Baal worship came from there, and King Ahab brought it into Israel.
The words came true twice. First in the land the tribe received. Then in the centuries after the nation refused its Messiah.
With Zebulun, in verse 13, we come to a prediction. It sets out what has marked the people since they rejected their Messiah. That tribe did occupy the north-western part of the land toward Sidon. This brought them into contact with the wide outlook of the shipping world. And for many centuries now the Jew has been pushed out all over the world and has given himself up to trade. Ships are a fitting symbol of it.
Jacob's word was not the last thing said about Zebulun. The story turns at the very place where it went wrong.
Zebulun, the dweller in relationship, as he should have been, had long fulfilled Jacob's prophecy. "Dwelling at the shore of the sea," he had become the picture of Israel as a whole. Israel gave up its "dwelling alone" to mingle in adulterous commerce with the nations... But the Saviour of sinners is not stopped by this, and there in the darkness was the very place for light to spring up. And now there had come to Zebulun a Dweller, in whom God Himself could dwell with man.
Zebulun's later record is not all compromise. The same tribe that traded with the nations fought hardest when everything was at stake — against Sisera, alongside Gideon, and for David. One writer draws the uncomfortable parallel.
However much the inconsistency may surprise us, the fact remains that there are many Christians who have far too much traffic with the world, yet who, if foundational principles are attacked, will throw off their worldly spirit and come forward vigorously, even to a death struggle and martyrdom, in defence of the word of God and the honour of Christ.
- Name — Zebulun means dwelling. Closeness with God was his calling.
- Drift — Jacob's word turns dwelling into lying down at a harbour. The call to dwell with God became life among the nations. God let Israel have what it chose.
- Border — The border reaching to Sidon rubbed out the line between Israel and the nations. Baal worship later came from that direction.
- History — The tribe took its coastland. Later the scattered Jewish people gave themselves to world trade. Both answer the prophecy.
- Reversal — To that same shore came a Dweller in whom God could dwell with man. Where the dwelling failed, the light rose.
Issachar is a bony ass, Crouching down between two hurdles.
Jacob's words over Issachar are not flattery. They picture a strong animal that chooses to lie down under its load, and they set the tone for a long stretch of Israel's story among the nations.
The description sounds like praise until you look at the word itself.
He was a donkey lying down lazily between two burdens. (The word translated "strong" seems mocking — literally "bony." This is certainly not praise of Issachar.) He saw that rest was good and bowed down between two burdens. He is like people who live by sight and try to make this world their resting place. But they find themselves burdened twice over — with spiritual and everyday responsibilities. The world takes it out of him too; he becomes "a servant unto tribute." He crouched down in a humiliation he chose himself.
Another writer ties that word to the nation's trade with its neighbours.
Trade marks the nation, since his side touches Sidon; but if this brings personal prosperity to some, it does not make the nation fat, for Issachar is a bony donkey. Crouching between two burdens, he has come under the servitude of the Gentiles; and here he is content to rest.
Translators differ over the last phrase. The ESV reads "crouching between the sheepfolds." Older versions read "between two burdens." One writer renders it "hurdles."
Issachar is a bony (or strong) donkey, lying down between two hurdles. He saw that rest was good, and the land that it was pleasant. He bowed his shoulder to bear, and became a servant paying tribute.
Another writer names the two loads he sees in Israel's later history.
The Jew has indeed shown remarkable strength. But his two burdens have pressed him down without a break. He has carried them for the sake of rest for his wandering feet and a pleasant life. Two things have weighed him down: the labour of gaining wealth on one hand, and being "a servant to tribute" on the other.
The order matters. Issachar stands next to Zebulun, and what follows them is darker.
Reuben, Simeon, and Levi are corrupt and violent. Judah is connected with God's purposes about the royal line. Zebulun a haven for ships, and Issachar a strong donkey under a load, go with prosperity in trade with the nations, or Gentiles. Then Dan is to judge his people. So when Israel joins with the Gentiles in that way (Zebulun and Issachar), you get the serpent brought in.
Others read the same two tribes as the long middle chapter of the nation's story, and warn where the money leads.
Zebulun and Issachar stand for the long period of Israel patiently bearing the Gentile yoke, during which the riches of the earth come into their hands; they are weighed down with wealth. But this leads us on to Dan, the tribe that turns away.
Behind the crouching lies a choice about whose yoke to wear. The tribe's name is part of the picture.
In Issachar we find Israel content to be the drudge of the Gentiles. The one who would not bear God's yoke quietly accepts the yoke of men. Here too the name is dwelt on: "there is reward"; ease and gain are all that is sought. How true to the character of unbelieving Israel! And these are the ways God governs. They do not know Him, yet He still arranges their circumstances.
Yoke-bearing has another side. Grace offers a different service.
From Jacob's prophecy we see that Issachar stands for yoke-bearing. But it is clearly a slavery that speaks of self-indulgence and the empty reward of sin's pleasure for a season. Here, though, we are to think of deliverance by grace from that servitude. We come to the One whose loving voice calls us to hear and find true rest. So we come under His yoke and learn from Him. He is the meek and lowly One who stooped to bear our burden and carry our sorrows, even to death, the death of the cross. In this way we enter a new service.
The crouching is not the last word for the tribe. A later blessing turns the scene around.
In Jacob's prophecy we see the one reaching out toward the surrounding nations, and the other crouching under their yoke. We are reminded of this here, though how different everything is now. Zebulun may now rejoice in going out, and Issachar in the tents of her pilgrimage. They still reach out toward the nations. But now they go as ambassadors of a present King, with a joyful invitation to come up and pay Him homage.
- Strength. The word behind "strong" means "bony." It reads as mockery, not praise — real strength spent lying down.
- Choice. Issachar saw that rest was good and bowed his shoulder. He chose ease and gain over God's yoke, so he took the yoke of men instead.
- Burden. The chosen rest turned into a double load: gathering wealth on one side, handing it over as tribute on the other.
- Consequence. Mixing with the nations for profit does not stop there. In the prophecy, Zebulun and Issachar lead on to Dan, the serpent.
- Reversal. The name means "there is reward." Grace brings a different yoke, under the One who bore our burden. A later blessing shows Issachar rejoicing at last.
And he saw the rest that it was good, And the land that it was pleasant; And he bowed his shoulder to bear, And was a tributary servant.
Jacob's word over Issachar is the picture of a powerful animal that lies down between its loads, and of a man who trades his freedom for comfort. The verse turns on what Issachar saw, and on what that sight cost him.
The description is not praise. Older translations end the verse with "a servant unto tribute" where the ESV has "a servant at forced labor," and that older wording is what these writers quote. One writer takes the whole picture as mockery:
He was a donkey lying down lazily between two burdens. The word translated "strong" seems mocking — literally, "bony." This is not praise of Issachar: it is the opposite. He saw that rest was good and lay down between two burdens. He is like those who live by sight and try to make this world their resting place. They find themselves carrying twice the load — spiritual duties and earthly ones. The world takes it out of him too; he becomes "a servant unto tribute."
Issachar's name means "there is reward," and Jacob plays on it here. The man who lives for reward and ease ends up carrying someone else's load:
In Issachar, we find Israel content to be the drudge of the Gentiles; one who would not endure God's yoke but accepted the yoke of men without resistance. Here, too, the name is dwelt upon: "there is reward;" ease and gain are all that is sought. How true to the character of unbelieving Israel!
The prophecy has been read as a sketch of Israel's long history scattered among the nations. On that reading, the two loads are wealth and taxation — the very things a settled, prosperous life demanded:
The Jew has indeed proved himself to have remarkable strength. But his two burdens have pressed him down again and again. He has borne them for the sake of rest for his wandering feet and a pleasant life. He has been burdened with the labour of acquiring wealth on the one hand, and of being "a servant to tribute," on the other. Again and again he has crouched under a further burden: he must hand over, as tribute of one kind or another, much of what he had piled up.
One writer ties Caesar's coin back to Jacob's words. The coin was only the sign of a choice Israel had already made:
The Gentile yoke had come as their father Jacob had long since prophesied... Israel had accepted fellowship with the Gentile, and Caesar's coin was only the sign of this. She was Gentile in heart and in way, and God had counted her where she belonged. She could not hold on to an independence which, for her, could only be another name for dependence on God. Let them give Caesar his own; but let them give God His own also. When they really do this, there will be no question at all to settle about Caesar. Not by self-assertion, but by repentance only can deliverance come for them.
The pattern is not only national. Whoever lets the heart follow the world takes on a master:
But we are urged to stand fast in this liberty in which we have been made free — for the danger of getting caught in some yoke of bondage is always there. We fail in this when the heart goes after the things of the world and the flesh. Then we become slaves, and, like these sons of Jacob, we serve what we follow. That slavery hinders all service and witness; we become wretched ourselves and useless to others.
Issachar bowed his shoulder to the wrong load. One writer points to another yoke, and to a reward that answers the name at last:
From Jacob's prophecy we see that Issachar stands for yoke-bearing. But it is clearly a slavery that speaks of indulging the flesh and the empty reward of sin's pleasure for a season. Here, however, we are to think instead of deliverance from such slavery by grace. It comes as we come to the One whose loving voice calls us to hear and find the true rest. So coming under His yoke and learning from Him (Matt. 11:29) — the meek and lowly One who stooped to bear our burden and carry our sorrows, even to death, the death of the cross — we enter a new service... finding in this way the true reward, for "If anyone serves Me, My Father will honour him." Issachar means, "There is reward."
- He saw. Issachar lived by sight. Rest looked good, the land looked pleasant — and that glance decided everything.
- He stooped. Refusing God's yoke does not leave a man free; it leaves him accepting the yoke of men without a struggle, for the sake of ease and gain.
- He paid. The rest he chose came with two burdens, not none: the labour of getting, and the tribute of giving it up again.
- He is us. Whatever the heart follows, it serves. The believer who lets go of liberty becomes wretched himself and useless to others.
- He can be free. Not by self-assertion but by repentance. Then comes a different yoke, carried by the One who bore our sorrows, and a reward that is real.
Dan will judge his people, As another of the tribes of Israel.
Near death, Jacob speaks a word over each of his sons, and Dan's word is a single line of promise before darker words follow. Dan's name means "judge" — yet how could a tribe with Dan's record ever hold that place?
The verse turns on Dan's name. One writer sets him beside Judah:
Judah stands for the truth, the basis of all government among the people of God. Dan stands for carrying that government out. Dan means judge, and that is what he stands for in Jacob's prophecy. Most significantly, Jacob also foretells the apostasy.
The closing words, "as one of the tribes of Israel," set a limit. Dan's name is missing from the sealed tribes of Revelation 7, so this old promise reads like an answer given in advance:
Has God let this tribe drop out of His chosen earthly family, so that it has no part in the final blessing? The voice from long ago answers the question decisively: "Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel." No! the Lord's grace prevails over all failure: Dan does not lose his place. It cannot be that a tribe should perish out of the chosen people... The staff of authority to judge has not fully gone. But he keeps only what his place as a tribe requires — "as one of the tribes of Israel," nothing more.
Dan's later history is dark. Even so, the promise given here was never taken back:
No matter how low the people of God sink in failure, nothing sets His purposes aside. As the apostle Paul wrote to the believers in Rome, "the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable." So the words "Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel" make his place in final blessing sure. Jacob is about to tell of Dan's terrible future as an instrument of Satan. Yet he can take comfort: blessing will come for Dan in the end.
Dan gets more than bare survival. When the list is about service, Dan drops out. When it is about mercy, he comes first:
Yet such is the grace of God that Dan comes first in Ezekiel's prophecy of the restoration of the tribes. There the question is not service but mercy. Dan, the worst sinner of all, is the first named and provided for — though very fittingly he is the least near to the sanctuary. Then at last Jacob's assurance comes true, the assurance even their wickedness could not cancel... And Dan, with all his faults, receives the honour of a deliverer called from his sons, when from that tribe strode out the heroic and powerful figure of Samson.
Timing is the next question, and one writer answers it while naming who may come out of Dan:
Prophetically this brings us to the time when Israel takes up self-government again. To some degree this has been true since 1948... Comparing this verse with Revelation 7, it seems likely the antichrist will come from the tribe of Dan, for there Dan is left out of the 144,000. Yet even though Dan is missing from that sealed company, he will have his place in the blessing of the millennium.
The promise also carries a lesson that reaches past Israel. To judge others, a man must first judge himself — and that is what Dan's story lacks:
His name means "judge," or "judging," and he stands for the spirit of rule. That spirit can only be reached through the lesson of self-rule, self-judgment and self-government, and this means the truth applied to the whole man. Dan's history shows little of this. It is the opposite of what his character should be... Self-judgment and self-government become possible in only one way: by submitting to another will and power, that of God revealed in Christ.
- Judge — Dan's name means "judge." The promise makes him stand for government carried out among God's people.
- Failure — his history runs the other way: apostasy at the start, and his name left out of the sealed tribes in Revelation 7.
- Grace — his wickedness could not cancel the word Jacob spoke over him. In Ezekiel's vision of restoration, where mercy is the subject, Dan comes first.
- Place — "as one of the tribes of Israel" gives him his tribal standing and no more. He keeps his staff, nothing beyond it.
- Self-rule — the tribe called to judge never learned the lesson. Judging others starts with judging yourself, and that comes only by submitting to God as revealed in Christ.
Dan will be a serpent on the way, A horned snake on the path, Which biteth the horse's heels, So that the rider falleth backwards.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
I wait for thy salvation, O Jehovah.
Jacob is dying, and he is telling his twelve sons what will happen to them in days to come. Right after the dark picture of Dan as a serpent in the path, he stops prophesying and prays one short sentence about himself — the first time the word "salvation" appears in the Bible.
The verse sits where the prophecy hits bottom, at the point of apostasy — a turning away from God. The writers below quote the verse in an older wording: "I have waited for Your salvation."
In Jacob's blessing, Dan comes in at the point of apostasy, but for that very reason also at the point of waiting for blessing. Dan is like an adder in the path biting the horse's heels, so that his rider falls backward. And then comes an interjection, "I have waited for Your salvation, O Lord"; faith says that God must now come in.
Another writer marks the same turn — from Satan's power to a heart that looks up.
It is the moment of total ruin among the Jews, but exactly the point of change for blessing. Then the cry comes out: "I have waited for Your salvation, O Jehovah." Here is the sudden change from the energy of Satan to a heart looking up and out to Jehovah Himself.
Waiting for this salvation is not passivity. It is the end of trying to save yourself.
Here "salvation" is used, we judge, in the sense of deliverance. It is very clear that Dan marks out the apostasy of Israel in a future day. In view of this, the resource of those who remain faithful — the remnant — is shown. They will be brought to know that Jehovah alone can deliver them. Oppressed by "the man of the earth" and held in his grip, they will find human effort to get themselves out completely useless. So they must look to Jehovah alone for help. Faith, then, recognising this, says, "I have waited for Your salvation, O Lord." ... It is a lesson we all need to learn when we are brought into hard places, confusion, or trials. The flesh is impatient and, like Saul at Gilgal, cannot wait, but must do something to make a way out of its difficulties, to rescue itself.
The word enters Scripture on the lips of a dying man who never saw the thing he names.
The thought of these things stirred the prophetic soul of the patriarch, and led him to express his own faith and hope. "I have waited for Your salvation, O Lord." This is the first occurrence of the word "salvation" in our English Bible. Jacob had to wait for it. Many centuries later old Simeon could say, "My eyes have seen Your salvation," and each of us can now say that in heart and life we have experienced it. But in the sense Jacob had in mind, the cry still goes out: "Oh, that salvation for Israel would come out of Zion!" (Ps. 14:7).
Jacob was waiting for what the Messiah would come and do.
"Salvation" was identified with the coming and work of the Messiah. Believers understood little, if anything, of how it would happen. But they had no doubt about the saving grace that would then appear... they looked on to the last day as the goal of their hopes, when Messiah would establish salvation fully and for ever. How clearly it is "grace," not of works that human nature might boast in.
Now and then in this chapter Jacob's own heart breaks into the prophecy, and here the sight of coming apostasy moves him.
As he speaks his prophetic words about his sons, now and then his own heart is allowed to speak. These outbursts are full of spiritual affection, showing a much improved condition of soul... In earlier days he had been careless about the apostate ways of his children, who married the daughters of Canaan. But now, in the same prophetic words, he looks at the apostasy of Dan. Sick at heart over such a sight, he breathes out a longing for the promise — "I have waited for Your salvation, O Lord."
Believers whose souls are already saved still have something to wait for.
Believers already receive the end of their faith in the salvation of their souls, and the Spirit is the seal and witness of it. Now they have to wait patiently for that salvation to be completed by the redemption of their bodies... There is a sense in which the saints still wait, as Jacob and the prophets did, for God's salvation (Gen. 49:18; Isa. 25:9; 1 Peter 1:5).
- Ruin first. The cry comes at the lowest point of the prophecy. Where the serpent bites and the rider falls, faith says God must come in.
- Wait, don't scramble. Waiting admits that self-rescue is useless. Impatient flesh, like Saul at Gilgal, must always do something instead.
- First word. This is where "salvation" first appears in the Bible — spoken by a dying man who had to wait for it.
- A Person, not a plan. What Jacob waited for was tied to the coming and work of the Messiah, and it was grace, never earned.
- Still waiting. Simeon's eyes saw it, our hearts have tasted it, yet saints still wait as Jacob did — for salvation completed.
Gad -- troops will rush upon him; But he will rush upon the heel.
Jacob's word over Gad is one line, but it turns right around: raiders overrun the tribe, then the tribe raids them. It sits where the tone of the chapter changes, which raises two questions — who is the "troop," and when is "the last"?
One writer runs through the sons in order. He marks Gad as the place where failure turns into blessing.
Reuben, Simeon, and Levi are corrupt and violent. Judah is connected with God's purposes about the royal line. Zebulun is a haven of ships, and Issachar a strong donkey carrying a load; both are linked with prosperity in trade with the nations, or Gentiles. Then Dan is to judge his people. So when Israel joins with the Gentiles in that way (Zebulun and Issachar), in comes the serpent. Then Gad is overcome, but overcomes at last. After that all is power and blessing in Asher and Naphtali, in Benjamin and Joseph.
Gad's name is the word the verse plays on. One writer reads that name forward into Israel's future.
Gad was the first son of Zilpah, Leah's maid. His name means "a troop." The prophecy uses that same name: a troop (armies of enemy nations) would trample Gad (representing Israel) underfoot. This will happen in the tribulation period. But Gad will in the end overcome the troop. God will give Israel the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
The closing clause has more force in some renderings than "overcome at the last" suggests. One translation keeps the chase in view:
Gad — troops shall press upon him; but he shall press upon their heel.
The words also had a plain fulfilment on the map.
This tribe lived east of the Jordan. With Reuben and Manasseh, it had to bear the shock of the enemies who attacked Israel from the east (1 Chr. 5:18-22). They were a warlike tribe, suitable for such an exposed position. Some of them joined David, and the record calls them "men of might, and men of war fit for the battle, who could handle shield and buckler, whose faces were like the faces of lions, and were as swift as the deer upon the mountains" (1 Chr. 12:8-15).
One writer looks past that history to a final gathering of enemies, and to the two tribes named right after Gad.
Gad is overcome by a troop, but overcomes at last. The prophet Daniel tells us what the final trooping together against Israel will be (read Psalm 83 too). But God will bring His earthly people out of the trouble. Then blessing comes to Asher in abundance and good cheer, and Naphtali, like a deer set free, will give glory to Jehovah. Deliverance, consolation, and liberty.
Another writer reads the same three tribes as the experience of the godly under persecution before the kingdom comes.
In verses 19-21, Jacob groups three tribes together: Gad, Asher and Naphtali. His words seem to set out what the godly in Israel go through as the true Messiah overthrows the antichrist and takes his place. At first everything will work to overcome them under the persecuting power of the "beasts" we read about in Revelation 13. They will suffer persecution and insults for righteousness' sake, but at the end theirs will be the kingdom, as the Lord stated in Matthew 5:10-12. Like Gad they will overcome at the last.
One writer, quoting an older translation, treats that order — defeat first, victory last — as the mark of the whole new order, and links it to Christ's promise.
Jacob's words go on: "Gad, a troop, shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last." That is the certain character of the new order of things — conflict, defeat at first, but victory in the end. So Christ says, "To him who overcomes I will grant to sit with Me on My throne, just as I overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne." [There is a play on the meanings of the names. Gad means "a troop."]
- Turn. Gad is where Genesis 49 stops falling and starts rising. Failure comes first, then power and blessing in Asher, Naphtali, Benjamin and Joseph.
- Name. "Gad" means a troop. The troop that tramples him and the man who wins at last carry the same word.
- Frontier. Gad settled east of the Jordan and took the first shock of enemies from that side — a warlike tribe with faces like lions.
- Rescue. Writers see one last gathering of nations against Israel. God brings His earthly people out of it — deliverance, consolation, liberty.
- Last. The order never changes: conflict, defeat, then victory. Christ promises the same to everyone who overcomes.
Out of Asher, his bread shall be fat, And he will give royal dainties.
Jacob's word to Asher turns from Gad's fighting to feasting. Commentators read this short line as a picture of Israel's coming plenty, and as a promise about what a well-fed person can pass on to others.
Asher's line comes straight after Gad, and the order is deliberate. The writers quoted here use an older wording, "royal dainties," where the ESV has "royal delicacies."
When the remnant look to the Lord for salvation, then the moment of deliverance is at hand. So Gad sets out a great fact. The godly remnant may be overcome at first and pass through great suffering. But in the end they will overcome. Abundance of blessing for the nation will follow, as shown by the "royal dainties" of Asher.
The whole chapter moves the same way — one writer traces the tribes as a story in two halves, failure first and then blessing, with Asher standing on the far side of that turn.
Reuben, Simeon, and Levi are corrupt and violent; Judah is connected with God's purposes as to the royal line... then Dan is to judge his people... then Gad is overcome, but overcomes at last; and then all is power and blessing after that in Asher and Naphtali, in Benjamin and Joseph.
Asher's name carries the promise before the verse says a word.
Asher was Zilpah's second son, and his name means "happy." The prophecy about him points to the rich provision God will make for the nation Israel — even "royal dainties" — when He restores them to their land in the millennium. What a wonderful contrast to their years of deprivation and desolation!
The verse runs two ways. God spreads a table, and His people bring something back to Him.
Asher speaks of the prosperity that follows. "His bread shall be fat." Israel enters the land with all its blessing from the Lord. There they enjoy what Isaiah 25 describes: "The Lord of hosts makes for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow. He will swallow up death forever, and will wipe away tears from all faces"... In response to the Lord's salvation and blessing, Israel gives Him "royal dainties" in return. Does the Lord not tell Israel in Numbers 28 which royal dainties please Him? There He says, "Command the people of Israel and say to them, My offering, My food for My food offerings, with a pleasing aroma to me."
The verb matters. Asher does not just eat well; he yields. One writer takes the point to the beehive.
"He shall yield royal dainties" too — not only taste them but supply others with them. What makes the queen bee so much larger and more regal than the rest? The food she is given early in life. Her egg and young larva are just the same as the others. Feeding on "royal dainties" is what makes her grow royal in body and mind. So those who nourish their spirits with royal dainties become royal in spirit.
The promise also touched down on a map. One writer places Christ Himself inside Asher's territory, with nothing set out for Him at home.
He was in the territory of the tribe of Asher, of whom Jacob prophesied, "He shall yield royal dainties." So there was no table in Zion for David's Son. But there was one spread in the wilderness of Asher. There He had royal food to eat that Israel knew nothing of, and there were crumbs of grace for hungry Gentiles too.
Commentators differ here. Most read the verse of Israel's coming plenty; others draw a personal lesson from the names in Asher's family.
Asher's prince was Pagiel, which means "event of God," and his father's name, Ocran, means "afflicted"... Asher means "happy." But even the blessing of Asher has to be tempered with God's dealings — events of God — to bring affliction. For true happiness always comes through suffering, little as we may appreciate this at first.
One writer finds that happiness in Anna, a woman of this tribe who had lost everything else.
Anna completes the number of these witnesses. Everything else has failed with her; but she has been brought into the wilderness only so that God may speak tenderly to her. She is a true child of Asher, the "happy," and of Phanuel, the "face of God." Her own name, Anna, means "grace." That name marks the principle of a life like hers, where fastings and prayers are nothing but love's service.
- Order — Asher stands after Gad on purpose. The remnant is overcome first, then overcomes; rich food waits on the far side of the fight.
- Name — "Asher" means happy. The verse promises the rich provision God will make when He restores Israel to the land, after their long deprivation.
- Received — the fat bread points to the feast the Lord Himself spreads, where He swallows up death and wipes away tears.
- Returned — what Asher yields goes up to God as offerings that please Him, and out to others. Those fed on royal food become royal in spirit.
- Reach — in Asher's own territory the rejected Christ found a table, and crumbs of that grace fell to hungry Gentiles. From the same tribe came Anna, happy in God when all else had failed.
Naphtali is a hind let loose; He giveth goodly words.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Joseph is a fruitful bough; A fruitful bough by a well; [His] branches shoot over the wall.
Jacob's last words to his sons reach their high point with Joseph. He paints a tree planted where water never fails, so loaded that its fruit falls past the garden wall. Two questions follow. What feeds a life like that? And who gathers the fruit?
The ESV reads "by a spring"; the older translation these writers quote says "well." Either way, the phrase points to what feeds the fruit. One writer sees this holding true even in prison:
"A fruitful bough by a well": hidden sources of nourishment as well as of energy — the water of life springing from the wounded ground. Even if they lock him up, he is like a noble tree in a prison yard.
Joseph's fruit did not grow in easy conditions. One writer describes the spirit behind it, and who may gather from it:
Joseph is the picture of the martyr spirit, whose courage shows itself in endurance, in facing the consequences without flinching. In him, patience has its perfect work. So in the end he rises to mastery over everything around him, because he is master of himself first. He receives from God's hand; he does not take things into his own. How fruitful he is! And how the branches run over the wall! They yield their fruit inside no narrow enclosure, free for anyone to gather. For who may not gather such fruit? It takes no great wisdom, no bringing out of inner resources. It is simply "man's weakness waiting upon God" — and who may not wait on Him?
So who gathers the fruit? One writer explains what the wall stands for, and who stands on the other side:
Joseph speaks of Christ as the One who will secure all blessing in the Millennium, both for Israel and the nations. He is a fruitful bough by a well, drawing refreshment from the well of the Word of God. His branches run over the wall — the wall of separation between Israel and the Gentiles. His branches run over for the blessing of Gentiles.
Another writer starts from the meaning of Joseph's name:
Joseph means "Jehovah has added." That is exactly what the Lord Jesus has done in rejection and affliction (compare Genesis 41:51 and 52). His fruit has run out over the middle wall between Jew and Gentile in wonderful blessing (see Ephesians 2:14).
One writer finds the same picture in a Gospel scene. A tired Man sits by a well in Samaria and speaks with a woman there:
Take, for example, John 4:6. Why is it mentioned, "Now Jacob's well was there"? Surely to arrest our attention in some special way; and Genesis 49:22 discovers the secret... So in this weary Man, who sat by the well of Sychar in the midday heat, we see the true Joseph. Even as we look at Him, we see His branches running over the wall of Judaism, reaching this poor woman of Samaria with their good fruit.
The words about Joseph point past Joseph. One writer traces them to the risen Christ, and to what He has yet to spend:
And having said this of Joseph, the Spirit uses it as a figure of a Greater than Joseph... We have Christ in Joseph. Here we see the risen Christ as in a picture. All power is now His, in heaven and on earth. He is seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high. His title to the resources of creation is sure, sealed by the dignity of the place He now fills. And the resources He now owns, He will in time use for Israel and for the whole earth, following the pattern of this mystery of Joseph.
- Well — Hidden water feeds the tree. That is why the bough kept bearing fruit even in a prison yard.
- Weakness — Joseph's fruit grew out of patience. He took what God gave instead of grabbing for himself, and anyone can wait on God like that.
- Wall — The branches cross the wall. Blessing passes the old line between Israel and the nations — the middle wall between Jew and Gentile.
- Well again — At Jacob's well in Samaria, the true Joseph sat weary in the midday heat. His fruit reached over the wall of Judaism to one Samaritan woman.
- Wealth — The risen Christ now holds every resource. He will spend it on Israel and the whole earth, on the pattern of Joseph.
The archers have provoked him, And shot at, and hated him;
Jacob is blessing Joseph, and the picture suddenly changes. A fruitful tree becomes a battlefield, and the blessed son is the target. Who were these archers, and what does the verse teach about being hated while God is blessing you?
The first archers were his own brothers. One writer sets Joseph's exile beside what his brothers were doing at home.
Here we see Joseph filling up the measure of his sorrow, while his brothers are filling up the measure of their sins. He is in exile, keeping his purity and separation to God, while they at home are defiling the covenant. God is with him, and man against him. He takes his place in the cloud of witnesses, suffering for righteousness' sake... The archers are grieving him deeply and shooting at him. But his bow stays strong, and the mighty God of Jacob makes the arms of his hands strong. He may be persecuted by men, but God will not forsake him.
The same writer adds that God used it all as training: "this trouble under God's hand was made to produce patience, and by it the crown was growing brighter for him."
The ESV says the archers attacked Joseph bitterly and harassed him severely; older translations say they "sorely grieved" him. One writer reads his restraint as strength held back: he had a bow, and chose not to use it on the men shooting at him.
"Joseph is a fruitful bough." It takes every rough blow without resentment, and gives back its own rich fruit... "The archers have sorely grieved him" — and this is not the calm of a man who feels nothing. They "shot at and hated him, but his bow stayed firm." He did not use it against them; he kept it for their enemies. And it "stayed firm in strength": this is the self-restraint of power, not the slackness of weakness.
Commentators read Joseph here as a picture of Christ. The arrows landed; God's answer was resurrection.
These verses give us a beautiful picture of "the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow." "The archers" have done their work; but God was stronger than they. The true Joseph was shot at and badly wounded in the house of His friends. But "the arms of His hands have been made strong" in the power of resurrection... Look at Joseph in the pit and in the prison, then as ruler over all the land of Egypt. You see the difference between the thoughts of God and the thoughts of men. Look at the cross, then at "the throne of the majesty in the heavens," and you see the same thing.
One writer points to where that steady bow came from. The strength was never Joseph's own, and never Christ's own either.
There is no strength without dependence. Strength is not found in us, but in Him whose strength never fails on our behalf. The Man Jesus Christ is the example of this. He looked for strength only in God; otherwise He would not have been the Perfect Man. Struck by the archers, His strength did not leave Him. When His weakness appeared to give way to the enemy's power, His bow remained strong — His strength was full.
The fruitful branches and the archers stand side by side. One writer finds both at Jacob's well, where a tired traveller reached a Samaritan woman.
In this tired Man, who sat by the well of Sychar in the noonday heat, we see the true Joseph. Even while we look at Him, we see His branches running over the wall of Judaism, reaching this poor woman of Samaria with their good fruit. Not in fact, but morally, the archers had grieved Him deeply, shot at Him and hated Him. Yet His bow stayed firm. You can see it in the deliverance He worked that day for this poor captive of Satan.
One writer turns this into a rule for anyone under fire.
As for ourselves, fellow Christians, our bow will stay whole on one condition. We must put our confidence in God, who gives us His strength... Nothing is weaker than a Christian who has given up Christ as his strength... Let us not weep over our weakness as though we had no resources: that would not be faith, nor confidence in Christ.
- Shot at. The first archers were Joseph's own brothers — hatred aimed at the man God had chosen to bless.
- Grieved. The wounds were real. Joseph's calm was not numbness but power held back; he refused to shoot back.
- Held. His bow stayed firm on borrowed strength. The hands of the mighty God of Jacob kept his arms strong.
- Fruitful. The arrows never stopped the fruit; branches kept running over the wall even while he was the target.
- Exalted. Pit and prison gave way to the throne, as the cross gave way to glory — God proving stronger than the archers.
But his bow abideth firm, And the arms of his hands are supple By the hands of the Mighty One of Jacob. From thence is the shepherd, the stone of Israel
Jacob is dying, and he blesses Joseph — the son his brothers tried to kill — as a man whose bow held firm under fire. Mid-sentence he then names a Shepherd and a Stone, and writers read that break as the turn from Joseph to Someone greater.
The verse credits Joseph's steady bow to the hands of the Mighty One of Jacob. One writer notes how often Joseph's own hands turn up in his story.
In Joseph's own history we have already seen a preliminary forecast of Jacob's blessing. His brothers hated him and shot at him. But the mighty God of Jacob stood behind him and made his hands strong. So he became a blessing to the civilised world of his day. The language of verse 24 is remarkable when you notice how often the history mentions Joseph's hands — see Genesis 39:3-4, 6, 22; Genesis 41:42. Here we see the secret spring of Joseph's skill. Upon the hands of Joseph rested the hands of the mighty God.
Jacob has already named his other sons. The strength here is not Joseph's own.
The power and might are not those of unstable Reuben, or cruel Simeon and Levi, but the strength of Jehovah Himself, the excellent power of God shown in the Man of His purpose.
The short phrase "from there" is the hinge. Writers take it as pointing back to the place of the shooting.
But the One rejected by His own is made strong by the mighty God of Jacob, and "from there" is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel. "From there" — from the place of weakness — He is exalted to a place of strength. From the place of death, where He was "shot at," He is brought again from the dead, just as Joseph was brought up out of the pit. So He becomes the "great Shepherd of the sheep" (Hebrews 13:20). And "the stone which the builders cast away as worthless, the same is made the head of the corner" (1 Peter 2:7).
Another writer sets the wounds beside the strength that followed. He quotes an older translation of the verse:
The archers have done their work; but God was stronger than they. The true Joseph has been shot at and badly wounded in the house of his friends. But "the arms of his hands have been made strong" in the power of resurrection. Faith now knows Him as the basis of all God's purposes of blessing and glory for the Church, Israel, and the whole creation.
Shepherd and Stone are not one picture repeated. Each brings its own scene.
The word "Stone" is a title of our Lord Jesus Christ. Wherever it comes up, building is in the mind of the Spirit. When He is called the Shepherd, a flock is in view. As the Stone, however, He Himself is part of the structure. He is the most important and pre-eminent part, yet still part of the building. The Shepherd is different: He is distinct from the sheep, though He cares for them and sees that not one of the flock will perish (John 10).
This half-line is the opening entry in a long biblical thread. Writing on Nebuchadnezzar's dream and the stone cut out without hands, one commentator traces it back here:
The first prophetic reference to the Lord Jesus as the Stone is in Genesis 49:24, when old Jacob, in blessing his sons, made a parenthetic exclamation, "from there is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel." Under this figure He again appears in Isaiah 28:16, and so on into the New Testament.
Worth noting: unlike Judah and Shiloh earlier in the chapter, the tie between Joseph and the Coming One here is not one of ancestry.
It is very fitting that the promise of the Messiah, in His patient and passive character, should be tied to Joseph in this way. It is all the more striking because the connection is only moral, not by descent, as it is with Judah and Shiloh.
Jacob is blessing the tribes of Israel. The hope in these words has not yet arrived.
That nation will never be right until it is gathered round the true Shepherd and under His care. It must also stand on the foundation Stone that can never be moved.
One writer sets the verse beside the prophet Elisha, who laid his hands on a king's hands as the king shot an arrow.
The king was a passive instrument. Yet in his surrender he was so joined to Elisha's strength that the act of shooting was his own. This is the only way the bow of any servant of the Lord can stay firm. It was so with Joseph. POWER, PRESERVATION, PERMANENCE. The might of God directs us in our warfare. The Shepherd of Israel keeps us safe in every danger. The unmovable Rock holds us firm. All of this is there for the one who gives up any strength he thought he had, and yields himself wholly to God.
- Attack. The archers did their work, but God was stronger. The wounds are real, and the bow still holds.
- Strength. Other hands rested on Joseph's capable hands. The secret spring of his skill was not himself.
- From there. Out of weakness and death comes the exaltation. The pit gives back a ruler, and the rejected stone becomes the cornerstone.
- Shepherd and Stone. Shepherd puts a flock in view, with One who never loses a sheep. Stone puts a building in view, with Him as its chief part.
- Surrender. Power, preservation and permanence belong to the one who gives up his own strength.
From the God of thy father, and he will help thee; And from the Almighty, and he will bless thee -- With blessings of heaven from above, With blessings of the deep that lieth under, With blessings of the breast and of the womb.
At the end of his life, Jacob traces Joseph's blessing back to two names. It comes from the God of his father, who helps, and from the Almighty, who blesses. The blessing then arrives from three places: the sky above, the deep below, and the body that gives life.
The title Jacob uses here is not a general word for God. Writers have never settled its exact force. And this blessing is the first place where the title stands alone, without the word God beside it.
Scholars do not agree about where the word shaddai comes from, or what it means. Some give it as "all bountiful," others "all sufficient," others "almighty," and so on. This is not surprising. Any name of God must be above mere human learning or definition. Yet it was the ground of faith to those who had the revelation. The name first occurs in Genesis 17:1; God said to Abraham, "I am God Almighty." This links it with the patriarchs: it is the name by which God was known to them. The title "the Almighty" without the name of God added occurs first in Jacob's address to his twelve sons before he died.
That name carried a promise long before Jacob used it.
The Name of the Almighty assured Abraham that God would do everything He had promised… Jacob uses the Name of the Almighty in Genesis 43:14; 48:3 and 49:25. He knew the all-powerful might of Him who had blessed him despite all his failures.
The verse looks up and then down. One writer takes the two directions as two companies of people blessed through the Messiah.
Verses 25-26 indicate the widespread fullness of the blessing of the Almighty resting upon the Lord Jesus. There are blessings of heaven above. That is a faint hint that He would have a heavenly company. He does have one today, "blessed with every spiritual blessing in heavenly places in Christ" (Eph. 1:3). "Blessings of the deep that lies beneath" implies the blessing of Gentile nations through the Messiah of Israel (Rev. 17:15). The heavens speak of what is above Israel, and the deep of what is in a lower place, as the Gentiles rightly will be.
Commentators differ. Another writer reads the deep as the ocean floor itself, giving up its treasure.
There are the blessings of the deep that lies under. They are the precious things that come from the bed of the oceans to enrich God's earthly people. The twelve gates we have read of were "twelve pearls; each one of the gates was of one pearl." Where do the pearls come from? Are they included in the blessings of the deep that lies under?
The last pair in the verse turns from the land to the body.
The breasts speak of nourishment, and the womb of fruitfulness. This shows that the land will produce plenty. Israel's blessing in Christ will exceed what Jacob's ancestors, Abraham and Isaac, received. It will bring wide blessing on the earth, "to the utmost bound of the everlasting hills." This completes the three spheres of the great blessing connected with the Messiah: the heavens, the deep, and the hills of earth.
Jacob says plainly that what he is handing over outstrips what his own fathers received. The scale is the point.
The rejected but exalted Christ becomes the source of blessing far exceeding all known blessings, for He will bless "with the blessings of heaven above" in addition to the blessings of the deep "that lies under." This is blessing that will far exceed anything the nation has enjoyed in the past. What is more, the blessing will reach beyond the land "to the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills."
The verses around this one set suffering and glory side by side.
These verses display "the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow." The archers have done their work, but God was stronger than they were. The true Joseph was shot at and badly wounded in the house of His friends. But "the arms of his hands have been made strong" in the power of resurrection. Faith now knows Him as the basis of all God's purposes of blessing and glory.
What He now holds, He does not hold for Himself alone.
All power is now in Him, in heaven and on earth. He is seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high. His title to the resources of creation is sure, sealed by the dignity of the place He now fills. And the resources He now owns, He will in time use for Israel and for the whole earth, after the pattern of this mystery of Joseph.
- Source. The blessing starts with a name: the Almighty. The patriarchs knew God by that name, and Jacob trusted it despite a lifetime of failures.
- Shape. From that name it comes down in three spheres: heaven above, the deep beneath, and the fruitfulness of breast and womb.
- Scale. Jacob measures it against what Abraham and Isaac received and calls it greater. It reaches past the land to the farthest hills.
- Cost. It comes through One the archers wounded; His arms were made strong in the power of resurrection.
- Crown. All power now belongs to Him, and one day He will use His resources for Israel and the whole earth.
The blessings of thy father surpass the blessings of my ancestors, Unto the bounds of the everlasting hills They shall be on the head of Joseph, And on the crown of the head of him that was separated from his brethren.
Jacob's last words to Joseph pile blessing on blessing. The blessing runs past Abraham and Isaac, out to the everlasting hills, and settles on the head of one man. Who is this brother who was set apart, and why does so much rest on him?
Jacob names two things here. One is a comparison: this blessing goes "beyond the blessings of my parents." Older translations read "my ancestors." The other is a boundary: it reaches "the everlasting hills." One writer reads the comparison as Abraham and Isaac. The boundary he reads as the earth's own share in what Christ brings.
Israel's blessing in Christ will be greater than the blessings of Jacob's ancestors, Abraham and Isaac. It will bring wide earthly blessing, "to the utmost bound of the everlasting hills." This completes the three areas of the great blessing tied to the Messiah: the heavens, the deep, and the hills of earth.
The word behind "set apart from his brothers" later became the term for the Nazarite. A Nazarite was a person set apart for God by a vow. The word appears here for the first time in the Bible, and it is used of Joseph. Older translations render the phrase "him that was separated from his brethren." One writer asks what this separation really meant.
This word occurs 16 times in all in the Old Testament. The first time it appears, it refers to Joseph, "him that was separated from his brethren" (Gen. 49:26; Deut. 33:16). Joseph was, of course, not a Nazarite in the full sense, for the law had not yet been given. Still, his example shows very well what separation is really about. It is not separation as an end in itself. It is not a proud, self-righteous separation driven by the flesh either. It was a matter of separating from his brothers, who spoke evil of their father. Joseph stood on his father's side. His untroubled relationship with his father made it impossible for him to side with his brothers in this matter.
Jacob does not just say the blessings will come to Joseph. He says they will rest on his head, and on the crown of it. The blessing is worn like a crown. One writer sees in it a small preview of a far greater one.
Then the blessings of heaven and of the deep, of the breasts and of the womb, are multiplied on the head and on the crown of Joseph, the one separated from his brothers. All of this points ahead to the many crowns and the glory, in heaven and on earth, of the true Nazarite, the Lord Jesus, now sanctified in heavenly glory. And He far exceeds it.
One writer ties the size of the blessing to the size of what Joseph had endured.
So the blessing on Joseph is spiritual and hidden. It has the character of eternity, and it has no limits... These descended on the head of Joseph and on the crown of the head of him that was separate from his brothers. He had suffered a double rejection, from the world and from his brothers. So the blessing is emphasised twice over.
Joseph did not keep what came to him. In Egypt he shared it with the very brothers who had sold him. One writer follows that pattern forward: the one who suffered alone receives everything, and then hands it on.
All this blessing comes "on the head of Joseph, on the crown of the head of him who was separate from his brothers." Joseph, separated from his brothers, is a picture of the Lord Jesus. Through His lonely sufferings and death, He is the great Recipient of all blessing from God. Yet Joseph shared with his brothers the blessing that came to him in Egypt. In the same way, the Lord Jesus will share with Israel all these blessings that are called the portion of Joseph. Indeed, today He shares far more than this with the Church of God, giving her a heavenly inheritance.
If the phrase points to Christ, it also points back at the reader. Separation does not come from trying to be different. It comes from following someone.
In many ways we all fail. Only Jesus, the true Nazarite, never failed... Pure and holy, He could say, Satan "has nothing in Me." May He be the pattern of our own separation to God — "He that was separated [a Nazarite] from his brethren." (Gen. 49:26; Deut. 33:16.) Then, in the power of the Holy Spirit, we shall follow Him. We will follow at a distance, no doubt, as Israel followed the ark two thousand cubits behind. But we shall follow Him still, and to follow Him is to grow in His likeness.
- Separated. The word for "set apart" appears here first, and it is used of Joseph. He stood on his father's side against his brothers — separation for someone, not just from something.
- Suffering. Joseph suffered a double rejection, from the world and from his own family. The weight of blessing answers the weight of rejection.
- Crowned. The blessing does not just arrive. It rests on his head like a crown — a small picture of the many crowns of the true Nazarite, Jesus.
- Surpassing. It goes beyond even Abraham's and Isaac's portion. It stretches to the everlasting hills, taking in heaven, the deep and the earth.
- Shared. As Joseph shared his blessing with the brothers who sold him, so the One who suffered alone receives all blessing — and hands it on to Israel and to the Church.
Benjamin -- [as] a wolf will he tear to pieces; In the morning he will devour the prey, And in the evening he will divide the booty.
Jacob's last words over his twelve sons end not with peace but with a wolf, tearing and feeding, morning and evening. Why does the prophecy close here — and does the picture fit a tribe, a man, or Christ Himself?
The order matters. Jacob has just blessed Joseph at length. Then the chapter shuts with a wolf.
Lastly we come to Benjamin, and here we close on the solemn note of judgment. Israel's earthly blessing will not come in apart from judgment. This is a fact we are often tempted to overlook, and never more so than in the day in which we live.
Lasting blessing needs power behind it.
If the true Joseph brings in universal and lasting blessing, there must be power to subdue all evil. This is set out in Benjamin. The rod of Messiah's power brings in the peace of the millennium and keeps it. Messiah tears Israel's enemies to pieces, and they never lift their heads again.
The name Benjamin is the key to the verse.
Benjamin, let us recall, means "Son of the right hand." He pictures Christ exalted to the right hand of God, carrying out judgment on His behalf. Psalm 110 brings this before us so strikingly. Verse 5 of that Psalm reads, "The Lord is at your right hand; he will shatter kings on the day of his wrath." This exactly matches verse 27 of our chapter. But it states the same truth in plainer and less figurative language.
That places the picture in the future, and sets it against the Christ we know now.
Benjamin himself, the son of his father's right hand, pictures Christ — not at all as head of the church, but as the conquering Son of might when the kingdom is set up in the land, and indeed over the earth, and the enemies perish before Him. This clearly looks on to the coming day of power and glory for the earth: a clear contrast with Him who suffered and now sits hidden in the heavens.
The prophecy's last two sons form one picture with two halves.
Joseph and Benjamin give a twofold picture of the glory of Christ in the millennium. Joseph (= He will add) is a special type of the Messiah. His brothers rejected Him, but God exalted Him to sit at His right hand... Benjamin (= son of the right hand) is more typical of the earthly side of Christ's reign. At His appearing and the dawn of the Kingdom, Christ will destroy all His enemies. He must reign until the last enemy, death, is abolished at the end of the Kingdom (1 Corinthians 15:24-28) — "in the evening" (Genesis 49:27).
The verse marks two times of day. One writer reads them as two separate judgments:
Jacob's prophecy closes with the final triumph of the divine life in Benjamin, and the judgment of its enemies. Joseph may bear personal wrong patiently, but God cannot let it end there. He must, as the Supreme Ruler, step in with a Judge and an Avenger. In that sense Benjamin, "Son of my right hand," is a type of Christ. God has appointed Him to judge the living ("in the morning" — the opening of the millennial day) and the dead ("at night," or at its close).
The verse does not stop at devouring. The second half turns to the spoil, and to who receives it.
He speaks of Christ also, not as the Sufferer, but as "the Man of God's right hand." Like a wolf, He will strike fear into the heart of His enemies. He will judge in perfect righteousness all who rebel against divine authority. We will see this in the judgments of the tribulation and also at the Great White Throne, where at last every enemy will be fully put under His feet. He will gain "the spoil" also, and divide it among believers. In other words, there will be results in blessing for Him and for believers because evil has finally received its just judgment.
The dividing rests on a price already paid.
If there is to be a devouring of the prey, there will also be a dividing of the spoil. The true Benjamin "shall divide the spoil with the strong, because He poured out His soul to death."
The tribe itself proved the word true. Two men named Saul, both from Benjamin, hunted God's anointed.
Saul of Tarsus had an earlier namesake: Saul the son of Kish (1 Samuel 9:1-2). That Saul hunted David, God's anointed, bent on destroying him. Saul of Tarsus was just as bent on wiping out the Name of Jesus — David's greater Lord. These two men of the tribe of Benjamin were true to type by nature, for both were "ravening wolves" (Genesis 49:27). Could a more fitting vessel be found, both as an example of the power of the gospel, and as a willing, devoted servant to pass on the good news to others?
- Judgment first. Jacob's prophecy ends on judgment. Israel's earthly blessing cannot come without it.
- Judgment named. The wolf is "son of the right hand" — Christ acting from God's right hand, the plain language of Psalm 110 put into a picture.
- Judgment timed. Morning and evening span the whole reach of that authority. It runs from the dawn of the kingdom to its close, when the last enemy is gone.
- Judgment shared. The spoil is divided, not kept; His victory over evil ends in blessing for Him and for believers.
- Judgment reversed. Saul of Tarsus, the tribe's fiercest wolf, became proof of the gospel's power. The wolf was turned into a servant.
All these are the twelve tribes of Israel, and this is what their father spoke to them; and he blessed them every one according to his blessing he blessed them.
One sentence sums up everything Jacob has just said over his sons. It calls the whole speech a blessing — even the sharp words. Two questions follow: how can words of judgment be a blessing, and why does the verse call twelve men twelve tribes?
Jacob is not only speaking to twelve men in a room. He is telling each of them what he will become.
Now at the age of 147 he called for all his sons to tell them their future. That future reached much further than any of them would live to see. It applies to each tribe, and goes on to "the last days" (v. 1). For each tribe borrows its character from the character of its head. Jacob's failing eyesight did not deceive him, unlike his father Isaac's (Gen. 27:1-25).
Simeon and Levi heard nothing pleasant from their father. Yet the verse says they were blessed with the rest.
Verse 28 closes the account of Israel blessing each of the tribes. It may not sound as though Simeon and Levi were blessed (vv. 5-7). But the honest exposure of their sin is itself a blessing, if they would accept it and judge themselves.
Reuben raises the same question. The answer turns on the wording of this verse.
But someone may ask: where is Reuben's blessing in all this? The verse says of all of them, "each with the blessing suitable to him" — that is, whatever would be a blessing in his own case. For Reuben, it must be found, then, in this very deprivation of his. When the will accepts its humiliation — when we say, though for a different reason than the Lord had, "Not my will, but Yours"! — then it is blessed, and its glory returns to it.
Who Jacob was in that hour matters. Commentators find his final hours the high point of his whole life.
The closing scene of Jacob's life comes near, and I know few things in the Bible more moving. It is a complete moral restoration. It is not only a picture of what Israel will be later; Jacob's own soul is what it never was before. No moment in his past life is as bright as his deathbed.
How far ahead do these blessings look?
In Genesis 49, we find Jacob still presented to us as a man of faith. He called his sons together to pronounce a blessing on them. He knew that in doing so he was speaking as a prophet, foretelling what would happen to them in the last days. So we are on safe ground when we take his words to refer to "the last days," and not just to the nearer future of the tribes.
The twelve blessings then trace one storyline: failure first, glory at the end.
Here you have the blessing of the tribes of Israel — a general prophetic view of their history. Reuben, Israel's firstborn, fails. Simeon and Levi stand for corruption and violence, the failure of those who try to hold their rights by natural force. Judah has strength and honour. But it all goes on until failure is complete... Then there is turning to the Lord for salvation, and all is changed. "I wait for your salvation, O LORD." Faith waits until God steps in... in Joseph, a rejected Christ exalted.
Moses also blesses these twelve tribes. The two chapters read very differently.
Jacob gives the history of what his sons did, some of it sad and shameful. Moses, on the other hand, presents what divine grace did, whether in them or toward them... Jacob sees his sons in their personal history. Moses sees them in their covenant relationship with the LORD. Jacob shows us human failure, weakness and sin. Moses shows us God's faithfulness, goodness and steadfast love.
Levi is the clearest example.
It may be instructive to compare the case of Levi as an instance of God making His judgment an occasion of blessing. Genesis 49:7 says, "I will divide them in Jacob and scatter them in Israel." But in Deuteronomy 33:10 we see how God overrules that dividing and scattering, so that they teach "Jacob your rules, and Israel your law" more effectively. "Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more."
- Named. The verse treats twelve sons as twelve tribes. Each tribe takes its character from the son whose name it bears.
- Judged. Jacob tells the truth about Reuben, Simeon and Levi. Honest exposure of sin is itself part of the blessing.
- Fitted. Each man gets the blessing that fits him. For one that means honour. For another it means the loss that teaches him to accept humiliation.
- Prophetic. The words reach to "the last days." They run from human failure, through Israel turning to the Lord, to a rejected Christ exalted.
- Completed. What Genesis records as judgment, Deuteronomy 33 answers with pure grace. Levi's scattering becomes the way Levi teaches the whole nation.
And he charged them, and said to them, I am gathered to my people bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron the Hittite,
Jacob has finished blessing his sons. Now the dying man turns from their future to his own burial. His last words are not a wish but a command. The place he names is a cave bought long before, in a land he never owned, and it carries the whole weight of his faith.
Jacob had already made Joseph swear about his burial; now he binds all his sons to the same promise. One writer sees in this repetition a man for whom dying mattered more than living.
With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob ends these dying conversations with his sons, just as he began them (Gen. 47:29; Gen. 49:29). He already had Joseph's word and oath on this matter. Now he must put all of them under the same commitment to him. Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt. In spirit he was saying, "We would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord."
Jacob had loved Rachel above all, and she lay buried elsewhere. He chose Machpelah instead, the cave named in this verse. The reason is that Abraham had bought that ground.
The closing command of Jacob to his sons now comes before us, and still we hear the accents of faith. Notice that his thoughts turned to the first spot Abraham had bought, near Mamre. Since Rachel had been such a special object of his affection, we might have expected him to want burial at her side. But no! There was this spot bought in the land. To faith it was a kind of pledge that one day God would fulfil His promise and all the land would be theirs.
This is not sentiment about family graves. Jacob does something with his death that he could not do while alive.
First, Jacob dies, and is buried. Again we find him charging — this time all his sons — to bury him with his fathers in Machpelah. Do we not need this striking repetition, that the promise of life is completely untouched by death? The living man sends his dead body in to take possession, in hope of his inheritance.
Jacob lists the field, the seller and those already buried there. One writer finds meaning even in the name of the people who sold the ground.
Jacob keeps full possession of his senses to the end. He calmly tells his sons to bury him with his fathers, Abraham and Isaac, in the cave of Machpelah. Abraham had bought that cave from Ephron the Hittite. Jacob was showing that he had the same faith as his fathers in the resurrection power of God. He mentions that Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Leah had been buried there. He also reminds his sons that Abraham bought the cave and the field from the children of Heth, whose name means "fear." Those who are unsaved are the children of fear. Through fear of death they are held in slavery all their lives (Heb. 2:15).
Jacob announces his own death before he asks for anything. He uses the same words Scripture used of his father and his grandfather.
The phrase "gathered to his people" is used of only six persons: Abraham (25:8); Ishmael (Gen. 25:17); Isaac (35:29); Jacob (49:29-33); Aaron (Num. 20:24); and Moses (Deut. 32:50).
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob lie in one cave, and one writer says they share far more than that.
In this life of faith and hope, the fathers of the book of Genesis are seen to be one. It is a happy thing to know this. They illustrate different mysteries and teach us different moral lessons. But in this life of faith and hope they are one. Each in his own day — Abraham, Isaac and Jacob — is alike gathered to his people. Each is a handful of sacred dust in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite. That dust is laid up there in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to life and to the inheritance.
- Promise. Jacob names one spot only: the field Abraham bought. To faith, that plot was a pledge that God would one day give his family the whole land.
- Possession. He could not own the land while he lived. So he sends his dead body ahead to take hold of it, because death leaves the promise of life untouched.
- Preference. Life had kept him in Egypt. Death would carry him back to Canaan, so his burial mattered to him more than his life did.
- People. "Gathered to my people" belongs to only six men in Scripture. The words join Jacob to Abraham and Isaac in one hope, not just one grave.
- Power. Abraham bought the ground from the children of Heth, whose name means "fear." Fear of death enslaves those without God. Jacob dies resting on God's power to raise the dead.
in the cave that is in the field of Machpelah, which is opposite to Mamre, in the land of Canaan, which Abraham bought of Ephron the Hittite along with the field for a possession of a sepulchre.
Jacob's dying charge does not just say "bury me at home." It names a cave, a field, a landmark, a country, and a purchase. Why did a man dying in the wealth of Egypt care so much about one plot of ground he never owned?
Jacob spent his last energy describing the exact place where his body was to lie. One writer connects this with his whole life in Egypt:
He lives for seventeen years in Egypt. He builds nothing and trades nothing there, as he had done earlier at Succoth and at Shechem. And at last, in his dying hour, with great zeal he declares his resurrection-hope in line with the call of God. He asks Joseph to promise not to bury him in Egypt. Joseph is to take his body to the burying-place of his fathers in the land of Canaan. He makes him swear to it. Then he charges all his sons to do the same for him, describing to them the exact spot in Canaan where his bones were to lie, "in sure and certain hope." His whole soul seems taken up with this. He wanted to make it clear that all his expectations were bound up with the promise of God, with the hope of his fathers, with the objects and inheritance of faith.
Jacob stresses that Abraham bought the field. Some read that purchase as proof that Abraham owned land in Canaan. One commentator argues the opposite:
It is completely wrong to say that God later gave him a possession in Canaan, meaning the plot he bought from Ephron as a burial-place (Genesis 23:17). God's gift is absolute and future. Buying a burial-place from the Hittite confirms this; it does not weaken it. For who that already owned this land, or any land, would think of buying his own possession? There he lays his dead in land that is not his own at all. He has to buy it, and that purchase is the pledge to faith that he will have it another day.
God promised Abraham everything, yet gave him nothing to hold:
Abraham had the heir and all the promises, yet he had nothing here below. He had to buy a burial place to bury his dead out of his sight. That was all he had as a present possession on earth.
Their care for their graves was a claim on the land God had promised:
They valued their dead bodies and the burying places that held them. While they lived, they were content to live as strangers in Canaan without owning so much as a foot of it. But "they died in faith." The promise of God had made over that land, that very land, to them, though they themselves were to be gathered to their fathers (Genesis 15). That was the ground for their dying in faith, in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to the enjoyment of it. They would link their dead bodies, though not their living ones, with that land.
Another writer asks why this burial charge is repeated:
Do we not need this striking repetition, that the promise of life is untouched by death? The living man sends his dead body in to take possession, in the hope of his inheritance.
Jacob's last requests show which country he counted as his own:
With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob ends these dying conversations with his sons, just as he had begun them (Genesis 47:29; 49:29). He already had Joseph's word and oath on the matter. Now he must put all of them under the same commitment to him. Death mattered more to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
One commentator finds meaning in the names attached to this grave:
Jacob was showing that he had the same faith as his fathers in the resurrection power of God. He mentions that Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Leah had been buried there. He also reminds his sons that Abraham bought the cave and the field from the children of Heth, whose name means "fear." Those who are not saved are the children of fear. Through fear of death they are subject to lifelong slavery (Hebrews 2:15).
- Bought — Abraham paid for the field, and paying proves the land was not yet his; the deed was a pledge of a gift still to come.
- Owned — a grave was the single thing the man of all the promises actually held on earth.
- Buried — the family put their dead in that one plot to tie their bodies to the land God had promised them.
- Claimed — the living man sent his dead body ahead to take possession, because the promise of life is untouched by death.
- Restored — life kept Jacob in Egypt; death carried him back to Canaan. His hope lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
There they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife; there they buried Isaac and Rebecca his wife; and there I buried Leah.
Jacob is dying in Egypt, and his last words name a graveyard in Canaan. Why does a man living in Egypt's wealth care so much about one cave — and why ask to lie beside Leah, not Rachel, the wife he loved?
Three times the verse says "there," pointing at one small plot. It was the only piece of the promised land these people owned.
In the noble manners and simple ways of the patriarchs, we meet a great truth. Abraham had the heir and all the promises, yet he owned nothing here below. He had to buy a burial place to bury his dead out of his sight. That was all he held as a present possession in the earth.
Jacob's love had always gone to Rachel. His dying wish went the other way, and the reason lay in what the bought ground stood for.
It is worth noting that his thoughts turned to the original spot that Abraham had bought near Mamre. Rachel had been so special to him. We might have expected him to want a grave at her side. But no! There was this spot, bought in the land. To faith it was a pledge that one day God would keep His promise and the whole land would be theirs.
Scripture never tells us when Leah died. The only record of her burial is Jacob's own word, spoken by a husband who disliked her.
It was Leah who bore children, while Rachel remained fruitless for a long time... Despite his dislike for Leah, Jacob never suggested doing what people do today: putting his wife away. In fact he kept her longer than Rachel, who died in childbirth and was buried on the way to Ephrath (Gen. 35:19), before Jacob came to his father at Mamre. We are not told of Leah's death, but Jacob says he buried her at Mamre.
Jacob had already made Joseph swear about his burial. Now he binds all his sons to the same promise, and the repetition tells us where his heart was.
With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob ends these dying conversations with his sons, just as he had begun them. He already had Joseph's word and oath on this matter. Now he must put all of them under the same commitment. Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
Listing the graves is not morbid bookkeeping. Every name in that cave is a claim staked on ground God had promised but not yet handed over.
Do we not need this striking repetition? Death leaves the promise of life wholly untouched. The living man sends his dead body in to take possession, in hope of his inheritance.
The family also took great care over the bodies themselves.
The patriarchs of the Jewish family all placed a special value on their dead bodies. They laid them up in Machpelah with reverent care. This care and zeal was their confession of a sure and certain hope of resurrection. But they connected resurrection with the land of Canaan. So Jacob and Joseph both died in Egypt. Both arranged for their bones to be carried over and laid in Canaan. This tells us that their hope of resurrection was the same as their hope of possessing the promised land at last.
Jacob also reminds his sons who sold the field. One writer draws meaning from the seller's name. That is his reading, not a statement of the text.
Jacob keeps full possession of his senses to the end. He instructs his sons to bury him with his fathers, Abraham and Isaac, in the cave of Machpelah that Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite. Jacob was showing that he had the same faith as his fathers in the resurrection power of God... He reminds his sons that Abraham bought the cave and the field from the children of Heth, a name which means "fear." Those who are unsaved are the children of fear. Through fear of death they live in slavery all their lifetime (Heb. 2:15).
- Bought — the grave was the only piece of Canaan the family owned. Everything else was promise.
- Buried — six names in one cave, each burial a fresh claim on land God had pledged but not yet given.
- Beyond — their care over dead bodies confessed a hope of resurrection, and of resurrection in that land.
- Back — life kept Jacob in Egypt; death would bring him home to Canaan.
- Beside Leah — the unloved wife lies in the tomb of promise; the loved Rachel lies by the road. Faith chose the pledge over the preference.
The purchase of the field, and of the cave that is in it, was from the children of Heth.
Chapter 49 has swept across the future of twelve tribes. Now the dying man's last words are not a prophecy at all, but the record of a land deal — the receipt for a grave.
Abraham bought that ground. He paid the full price, and he paid it in public.
He would pay in full for a possession, not of a mansion nor of an estate, but of a sepulchre. Ephron, in eastern fashion, set his price very high for those days. Abraham weighed out the payment in front of everyone. That was the accepted way of making a lawful and secure transfer, and it strikingly anticipates our modern exactness.
God promised Abraham a whole country. The only ground he could call his own was a grave.
In the noble manners and feelings of that simple early age, we see a great truth. Abraham had the heir and all the promises, yet he owned nothing here below. He had to buy a burial place to bury his dead out of his sight. That was all he held on earth at the time.
Jacob could have asked to lie beside Rachel, the wife he loved most. He chose Machpelah instead.
Notice that his thoughts turned to the original spot that Abraham had bought near Mamre. Rachel was such a special object of his affection that we might have expected him to choose a grave at her side. But no! Abraham had bought this spot in the land. To faith it was a kind of pledge that one day God would fulfil His promise and the whole land would be theirs. Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebekah and Leah lay there, and he would lie there too.
Jacob is dying in Egypt, far from the cave. He asks his sons to carry him back, and that turns his funeral into a claim.
Again we find him charging his sons — this time all of them — to bury him with his fathers in Machpelah. Do we not need this striking repetition — that death leaves the promise of life completely untouched? The living man sends his dead body in to take possession, in the hope of his inheritance.
The whole family shared that hope. It shaped how they treated their dead.
They valued their dead bodies and the burial places that held them. While they lived, they were content to live as strangers in Canaan without owning so much as a foot of it. But "these all died in faith." God's promise had made that land — that very land — over to them. Yet they themselves were to be gathered to their fathers. That was the ground of their dying in faith, in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to enjoy it.
One writer finds meaning in the sellers themselves — in the older wording "the children of Heth" as a picture.
He also reminds his sons that Abraham had bought the cave and the field from the children of Heth, whose name means "fear." Those who are unsaved are the children of fear. Through fear of death they are held in slavery all their lives.
One thread runs through these last talks with his sons: where his body would lie.
With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob ends these dying conversations with his sons, just as he had begun them. He already had Joseph's word and oath on this matter, and now he must put all of them under the same promise to him about it. Death mattered more to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers.
- Purchased. Abraham paid the full price in front of witnesses. The grave was bought, never given.
- Pledge. That one paid-for plot was faith's down payment on a whole country God had promised but not yet given.
- Possession. Jacob sends his dead body ahead to claim the inheritance. Death leaves the promise of life untouched.
- Pilgrim. The man who held all the promises owned one piece of earth: a grave. Everywhere else he lived as a stranger.
- Peace. He ends his farewell where he began it. Death would carry him out of Egypt and link him to the God of his fathers.
And when Jacob had made an end of commanding his sons, he gathered his feet into the bed, and expired, and was gathered to his peoples.
Genesis 49 ends calmly: an old man finishes his last words to his sons, settles on the bed, and dies. The verse holds three moments — commands finished, life given up, and a gathering "to his people" that means more than a burial.
Jacob dies in good order, with nothing left undone. Commentators see in that order the sign of who was guiding him.
The evidence that Jacob was at this time led by the Spirit of God is beautiful. Everything seems ordered with calm deliberation. Every necessary thing was attended to at just the right time, so that his death was the expected end of it all. How different this was from the disorder of much of his earlier life!
Before he dies, Jacob binds all his sons to bury him in Canaan, at the cave of Machpelah. He is dying in Egypt — so the charge says something about where his hope lay.
With Machpelah and his burial, Jacob ends these dying conversations with his sons, as he had begun them. He already had Joseph's word and oath on this matter, and now he must put all of them under the same commitment to him about it. Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
Scripture says the same of Abraham, Isaac, Aaron and others. Commentators note that being gathered is not the same as being buried.
Scripture nowhere states the soul's immortality, its imperishable existence, in so many words. Yet Scripture assumes it throughout, and weaves it into the very texture of the word. Think of the statements that Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Aaron and Moses were gathered to their people, or that Josiah was gathered to his fathers as well as being gathered to his grave. Our blessed Lord explained the phrase "God of Abraham" like this: "He is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live to him." That lends its full weight to such expressions.
Jacob speaks about dying the way a traveller speaks about moving on to the next place.
He speaks of death "leaning on the top of his staff," as if still pursuing his pilgrim career, and about to move from one place to another. God is the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac. He is still in covenant with them. He has never dissolved His relationship with them. Jacob had faith in God. Death would not dissolve his relationship to God, even "the God of Bethel."
One writer notes what filled Jacob's mind at the very end — and what did not.
Jacob also worshipped as he was about to pass through the door of death. He was not occupied with his own weakness. He was not at all afraid of what lay ahead. He was thinking of what was due to God, even when he was so weak, and when his days on earth were over. His spirit rose above all that had occupied him in blessing Joseph's sons. It rose above the foretelling of what would mark Israel in that clear prophetic history, and above the weakness of his body. His spirit went out to God in adoring worship.
Jacob's sons carried his body back to Canaan and buried it there. One writer marks the difference for those who belong to Christ.
Genesis 49 ends with Jacob's death. The closing chapter tells us of his sons carrying him to the field of Machpelah in Canaan, where his fathers were buried — a painful mourning in the eyes of the people of the land. What a difference for those who know Christ glorified in heaven, when they, "not of the world," depart to be with Him!
- Gathering his sons — Jacob's last act is to speak and command. The calm order of it marks a man led by the Spirit of God, unlike the disorder of his earlier years.
- Gathering his feet — he settles himself with calm deliberation. Death comes as the expected end of a finished task, not as an interruption.
- Gathering to Canaan — the burial charge shows where his hope lay. Life kept him in Egypt. Death would restore him to Canaan and to the God of his fathers.
- Gathered to his people — being gathered is not the same as being buried. Scripture assumes throughout that the person lives on, for God "is not God of the dead, but of the living."
- Gathered in worship — at the end he thinks not of his weakness or of what lies ahead, but of what is due to God. His spirit goes out to Him in adoring worship.
And Joseph fell upon his father's face, and wept upon him, and kissed him.
Jacob has just died, and chapter 50 opens with his son's reaction — not with funeral arrangements, but with tears. What place does grief have in the life of someone who believes God's promises?
All Jacob's sons were at the deathbed, yet only Joseph stays in view:
All the sons of Jacob seem to have been at his deathbed, as the first verse of Genesis 49 shows. Yet the closing scenes do not mention them. Joseph alone remains before us as we open Genesis 50, and again we see him as a man of deep affection, moved to tears. These men died in faith, as Hebrews 11 tells us. Yet their faith did not weaken the love that belongs to natural family ties, and it does not weaken ours today. The breaking of the link is a very real sorrow.
If death is gain for the believer, is there still room for tears?
Faith does not set aside natural affection... Faith knows well that our loved ones who die in the Lord will rise again, and that for them death is gain. Even so, we rightly mourn and feel their loss. We have a sure and certain hope of resurrection. As the apostle reminds us, our sorrow is therefore not the sorrow of those who have no hope. But there is no word to say we are not to sorrow. No one could know the power of resurrection like the One who is Himself the resurrection and the life. Yet He wept at the grave of Lazarus.
Some people tell mourners they should rise above such feelings. Jesus never did:
Jesus did not rebuke Mary for weeping. He did not make light of her sorrow. He did not tell her she ought not to feel; that she ought to be above anything of that sort. No — that would not be like Him. Some heartless folk may talk in this style; but He knew better.
Joseph's tears come at a particular point in his life:
The skill and power of Joseph's hands had carried him to the top. The destinies of his brothers and of all Egypt now lay in those hands. Then the tender compassion of his heart came out and expressed itself in his tears. In Genesis 39 to 41 Joseph's hands are prominent. Genesis 42 to 50: Joseph's tears. In these later chapters it is recorded that Joseph wept no less than eight times: Gen. 42:24; Gen. 43:30; Gen. 45:2, 14, 15; Gen. 46:29; Gen. 50:1, 17.
Egypt's answer to death and the Christian's stand side by side here:
Joseph told the physicians to embalm the body. Embalming would keep the dead body for hundreds of years. In this the Egyptians were very clever. They did not know what we know about resurrection, so they kept those bodies. We Christians know that God will raise the dead. "Who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body."
Faith decided where Jacob's body would finally lie:
They were in Egypt, so they followed the burial customs of that land up to a certain point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's wish, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "faith is the substantiating of things hoped for" (Heb. 11:1). The things hoped for are real, and faith substantiates them — makes them real — to us.
(The wording quoted here is from an older translation; the ESV reads "the assurance of things hoped for.")
Those forty days beside the dead body did something in Joseph's brothers:
Many people admit the truth of Scripture and believe the gospel, yet they do not enjoy forgiveness, salvation, and happy confidence in Christ. The reason is that they have never had their guilty history really out with God. The last chapter of Genesis illustrates this very fully. In their souls, Joseph's brothers then remembered everything and confessed everything. I have no doubt that it was looking at the dead body of their old father for those forty days which brought it about. Death is a great reality... Suppose you are kept face to face with death for forty days, as Joseph's brothers were. God will give you time to review your history as they did theirs. If you are wise, you will do it.
- Tears are honest. Joseph is a man of faith and a man of deep affection at the same time; the breaking of the link is a real sorrow.
- Tears are not hopeless. Believers mourn and feel the loss, yet not as those who have no hope. The Lord Himself wept at the grave of Lazarus.
- Tears are never rebuked. He did not tell Mary she ought to be above feeling; only heartless people talk that way.
- Tears from the throne. Joseph's tears come after his rise, not before: power in his hands, compassion in his heart, eight times recorded.
- Tears that outlast Egypt. Egypt preserved bodies because it knew nothing of resurrection. Jacob went to the land of promise instead, because faith makes the promised thing real.
And Joseph commanded his servants the physicians to embalm his father. And the physicians embalmed Israel.
Jacob has died in Egypt. Joseph weeps over his father, then sends for the court physicians. An Egyptian custom is used on a man whose hope lay outside Egypt. How far could people who belonged elsewhere follow the ways of the land around them?
The men Joseph calls are named by their trade, and that trade was healing the living, not tending the dead:
The Lord said, "Those who are well have no need of a physician," showing that then, as now, the work of such people was to cure diseases. In the Old Testament the word is rapha, "to heal," and in Genesis 50:2 Joseph called on such men to embalm the body of his father, since a certain amount of chemical knowledge was needed for that too.
The verse calls these physicians Joseph's servants. One writer takes that phrase as the measure of how high Joseph had risen. Yet with all that backing, he still moved with care over burying his father in Canaan:
He was high at court, as we may say; for, as we read, the physicians, the court physicians, were his servants (Genesis 50:2). And we know the resources of the kingdom, the strength and wealth of the realm of Egypt, were at that moment under his hand. But still he hesitates about the matter of burying his father in Canaan, and gets the help and intercession of Pharaoh's near relatives.
Embalming appears in Scripture only around Jacob and Joseph. Ancient historians describe how it was done:
Jacob and Joseph were both embalmed in Egypt, but we never read of the children of Israel practising it. Genesis 50:2-3, 26. The historians Herodotus and Diodorus describe the process of embalming in Egypt... In short, the body lay in nitre — a drying salt — for thirty days, to draw out all its excess and harmful moisture. Sometimes they took out the brain and bowels. Then for forty more days they anointed the body with gums and spices to preserve it. When this was complete, they wrapped it in many bandages and put it in a case shaped roughly like the person.
The numbers in the next verse do not quite match Egyptian records from later centuries. One writer treats that gap as a mark of authenticity:
In contrast to burial, as in other countries, Joseph gives orders to the physicians to embalm his father. This took forty days, and they mourned him for seventy days (v. 3). Much later, Egyptian history records that for a king, embalming took thirty days and mourning lasted seventy-two days. These are not significant changes. But they clearly imply that no one invented this story later in history, for he would have given the figures he knew.
Embalming was Egypt at its cleverest, a way of holding on to what death had taken. One writer sets that skill beside what believers now know:
Joseph told the physicians to embalm the body. Embalming would keep the dead body for hundreds of years. In this matter the Egyptians were very clever. They did not know what we know of resurrection, so they kept those bodies. We Christians know that God will raise the dead. "Who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body."
Jacob's body received Egyptian treatment; it did not receive an Egyptian resting place. Faith drew the line:
They were in Egypt, so they followed the burial customs of that land up to a point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's desire, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "Faith is the substantiating of things hoped for" (Hebrews 11:1, New Translation). The things hoped for are real, and faith makes them real to us.
(The ESV renders that verse "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.")
The rich care given to Jacob's body raises a question for readers today: should funerals be grand? One writer ties the answer to whether resurrection is still only in prospect:
In earlier days funerals were to be splendid. Resurrection was then only in prospect, and a funeral was a kind of pledge of the resurrection they expected. It was fitting that the pledge should be magnificent, matching the glory of what it pledged. But now resurrection has become fact in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the splendid funeral, like ceremonious worship, is more of a reproach, as if the great mystery itself had not yet become fact in its substance and power.
- Skill. Joseph put Egypt's healers to preserving the dead, and their craft could keep a body for centuries — human skill at its best against death.
- Custom. Joseph's rank put that whole system at his disposal, and Egyptian practice was followed up to a point.
- Limit. It stopped at the grave. Jacob was embalmed in Egypt, but he was not to stay there, because God's promise was real to faith.
- Pledge. The costly funeral honour of those days was a pledge of a resurrection still only in prospect.
- Fulfilment. What Egypt tried to hold, God will raise. Christ is risen, so the pledge has given way to the fact, and He will make our lowly body like His glorious body.
And forty days were fulfilled for him; for so are fulfilled the days of those who are embalmed. And the Egyptians mourned for him seventy days.
Jacob dies in Egypt, and Egypt takes over the arrangements. First comes a long process of embalming, then a nation in mourning. The numbers raise two questions. What did those forty days involve? And why did Egypt mourn a shepherd the way it mourned a king?
The verse counts the days but never says what filled them. One reference work describes the process:
Jacob and Joseph were both embalmed in Egypt, but we never read that it was practised by the children of Israel. Gen. 50:2-3, 26. The historians Herodotus and Diodorus describe the process of embalming in Egypt. There were several methods. The choice depended on the rank of the dead person, or on what the relatives could afford to pay. In short, the body lay in nitre for thirty days. This dried up all its excess and harmful moisture, and the brain and bowels were sometimes removed. Then for forty days more they anointed it with gums and spices to preserve it. When this was complete, they wrapped it round with many bandages. Last of all, they put it in a case shaped roughly like the person.
The figures are also evidence. One writer points out that they do not match the customs of later centuries:
Other countries simply buried their dead. Joseph instead gives orders to the physicians to embalm his father. This took forty days, and the mourning lasted 70 days (v. 3). Much later than this, Egyptian history records 30 days for embalming and 72 days of mourning for a king. Those are not significant changes. But the implication is clear: no one invented this story later in history, for he would have given the figures he knew.
Seventy days matched the mourning owed to a king. One writer marks how unusual this is, and leaves the question open:
They bury Jacob with great lamentation, and the Egyptians — all the world — lament. We read of nothing like this in the case of Abraham or Isaac, or even of Joseph afterward. Why does the Spirit of God dwell on this mourning for Jacob?
Joseph accepted Egypt's methods, but not Egypt's tomb for his father:
Being in Egypt, the burial customs of that land were observed up to a certain point, but Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's desire, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "faith is the assurance of things hoped for" (Heb. 11:1). The things hoped for are real, and faith gives them substance — it makes them real to us.
That care over a dead body was not sentiment but a statement:
The patriarchs of the Jewish family all put special value on their dead bodies. They were laid with religious care in the tomb at Machpelah. This care and zeal of theirs was the confession of their sure and certain hope of resurrection. But they connected resurrection with the land of Canaan. So Jacob and Joseph, who died in Egypt, arranged for their bones to be carried over and laid in Canaan. This tells us that their hope of resurrection was the same as their hope of one day possessing the promised land.
Egypt's technique was real, and so was its limit. A writer sets the preserved body against what Christians now know:
Joseph told the physicians to embalm the body. Embalming would keep the dead body for hundreds of years. In this matter the Egyptians were very clever. They did not know what we know of resurrection, and so they kept those bodies. We Christians know that God will raise the dead. "Who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body."
The forty days worked on the living too. One writer takes us into that room:
Let us go into the chamber of death. It will do you no harm. It was not for one day, but for "forty days." Every one of those ten men then said to himself: "It has come. The old man is gone. What will happen now?" Again conscience woke up. As they look at the body of their father, their conscience works. You face death for forty days, and I will tell you what you will do. You will say to yourself, I should like to be right with God; I should like to be right in view of death myself.
- Preserved. Forty days of spices and bandaging was Egypt's best skill. A people who could keep a body for centuries still had no answer to death.
- Honoured. Seventy days of mourning gave Jacob the grief owed to a king. Scripture records nothing like it for any other patriarch.
- Verified. The day counts do not match later Egyptian practice. That points to a writer who was there, not to a later invention.
- Relocated. Joseph used Egypt's methods but refused Egypt's tomb. Jacob's body went to Canaan, because God's promise was more real to their faith than Egypt's tomb.
- Raised. The patriarchs guarded their bodies as a confession of resurrection hope. Egypt kept its dead because it did not know that hope.
And when the days of his mourning were past, Joseph spoke to the house of Pharaoh, saying, If now I have found favour in your eyes, speak, I pray you, in the ears of Pharaoh, saying,
Jacob has died in Egypt, and the seventy days of mourning are over. Joseph now needs permission to take his father's body to Canaan, so he asks Pharaoh's household to speak to the king for him.
Joseph had the strength and wealth of Egypt in his hand. Yet here he asks a favour, and gets others to plead for him.
Jacob, his father, when dying, had made him swear that he would bury him in the land of Canaan. When Joseph comes to act on his oath, he seems to me to feel that he was about to venture on a serious and risky matter. He clearly braces himself for a task with its own special difficulties. He was high at court, as we may say; after all, the court physicians were his servants (Gen. 50:2). And we know that the resources of the kingdom, the strength and wealth of Egypt, were at that moment in his hand. Yet he still hesitates about burying his father in Canaan. He asks Pharaoh's close relatives to help him and to plead his case.
The difficulty was not practical but moral. Carrying Jacob out of the richest country on earth to bury him in Canaan ranked the poorer land higher.
Why all this? Was it not a small thing for so great a man to do? Yes; but asking to be buried in Canaan was, in some sense, putting a reproach on Egypt. It seemed to say that after all, the Canaan of degradation and poverty was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
He carried the message anyway.
This was the language of Jacob's request. Joseph felt it was a serious thing to bring such language to Pharaoh's ear. But he did. Faith again triumphed. In this way he is a witness to us. We should let the world learn plainly from us that, with all its progress and promise, it is nothing to us, while what is Christ's, though it looks weak, is our aim.
Joseph's case rests on what his father demanded years before. Not a wish — an oath.
But when these silent and retired years are about to close, we find him, rather suddenly, stirring and earnest. It is with Joseph, about his burial. He will have Joseph not only promise, but swear, that he will bury him in the land of his fathers (47:30). We never find him urgent about the conditions of his life in Egypt. He seems willing to take what they give him and to be what they make him. But as to his burial, he is now all urgency and decision. He will have it confirmed by an oath: his son must carry his dead body to the land where God gave him the promise. He is earnest and insistent now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes its title clear, full, and secure.
Pharaoh agreed, and gave more than permission. Egypt's leaders joined the journey to Canaan.
Joseph then gained a favourable response from Pharaoh as to burying his father's body in Canaan, as he had sworn to Jacob (vv. 4-6). This called for a huge funeral procession all the way from Egypt to Canaan. It included all the elders of the house of Pharaoh and the elders of the land of Egypt... There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. But here God is showing us the sovereignty of His great power and grace in producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel. The nation's immediate father dies, but his descendants remain, and God gives them favour among the Gentiles.
Joseph kept Egypt's burial customs only so far. The grave itself made the point.
Because they were in Egypt, they kept the burial customs of that land up to a certain point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's desire, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for" (Heb. 11:1). The things hoped for are real, and faith makes them real to us.
- Oath first. Jacob would not leave his burial to goodwill. He put it under oath, because faith wants its claim clear, full and secure.
- Cost next. Keeping that oath told the richest court on earth that a grave in Canaan beat an Egyptian tomb. That was a reproach on Egypt.
- Courage then. Joseph felt the risk and asked others to speak for him. He sent the message anyway, and faith triumphed.
- Favour follows. Pharaoh agreed, and Egypt's elders joined the procession. God was moving the Gentiles to feel for His people.
- Witness last. The grave outside Egypt made the promise visible. It says the world, for all it offers, is nothing to those who live for Christ.
My father made me swear, saying, Behold, I die; in my grave which I have dug myself in the land of Canaan, there shalt thou bury me. And now, let me go up, I pray thee, that I may bury my father; and I will come again.
Joseph rules Egypt. Yet after his father dies, his first move is to ask leave to carry the body out of the country, to a grave Jacob had dug for himself in Canaan. Why did a burial plot matter so much to a dying man? And why did Joseph ask so carefully?
Joseph is keeping a promise his father pressed on him hard. Jacob stayed calm about how he lived in Egypt. He was not calm about where he would lie.
We never find him urgent about the conditions of his life in Egypt; he seems willing to take what they give him and to be what they make him. But as to his burial, he is now all urgency and decision. He wants it confirmed by an oath: his son will carry his dead body to the land that saw God's promise to him. He is earnest and firm now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to read its title clear, full, and secure.
The oath tied Jacob's body to a promise he would not live to see kept.
Here we have the vow which Jacob exacts from Joseph — that he shall be buried in Canaan, in the tomb of his fathers. He thus links himself with them as waiting, even in death, for the promise to be fulfilled. So the promise is a promise of life which death cannot defeat or undo.
Jacob dug this grave himself. The word he uses for it marks it off from Sheol, the unseen world of the dead.
Qeber can be dug or made. "In my grave which I have dug for me" (Gen. 50:5); "I will make your grave." Sheol is never said to be dug or made.
(The ESV reads, "in my tomb that I hewed out for myself.")
Egypt gave Jacob its funeral customs. It did not keep his body.
Being in Egypt, the burial customs of that land were observed up to a certain point, but Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's desire, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "Faith is the assurance of things hoped for." The things hoped for are real, and faith makes them real to us.
The whole family followed this pattern. They owned nothing in Canaan while they lived, yet they would lie nowhere else.
While they lived, they were content to live as strangers in Canaan without owning so much as a foot of ground. But "they died in faith." The promise of God had made over that land, that very land, to them, though they themselves would be gathered to their fathers. That was the ground of their dying in faith, in the sure and certain hope of a resurrection to enjoy it. They would link their dead, though not their living, bodies with that land.
Joseph does not take this straight to Pharaoh. One writer sees real hesitation in that.
When Joseph comes to act on his oath, he seems to me to feel that he was about to venture on a serious and risky matter. He plainly treats it as a task with its own special difficulties… Yet he hesitates over burying his father in Canaan, and gets help from Pharaoh's close relatives, who speak for him.
The risk lay in what Joseph's plea said about Egypt.
Why all this? Was it not a small thing for so great a man to do? Yes; but a request to be buried in Canaan was, in a sense, putting a reproach on Egypt. It seemed to say that, after all, the Canaan of degradation and poverty was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
Pharaoh agreed. The funeral that followed was unlike anything in the family's story.
There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. Here God is showing us the sovereignty of His great power and grace in producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel. Israel's own father dies, but his descendants remain, and God gives them favour among the Gentiles.
- Oath — Jacob made Joseph swear, not just promise. Faith wants its claim on God's promise clear and secure.
- Grave — Jacob dug the tomb himself in Canaan. It was a real plot of ground, not a picture of the unseen world.
- Land — Egypt embalmed the body. Faith sent it to the land of promise, tying their dead bodies to a country they never owned while alive.
- Reproach — choosing Canaan over Egypt said Canaan was worth more than Egypt's wealth. That is why Joseph asked with care.
- Favour — Pharaoh's yes turned a private oath into a national procession. God produced sympathy among the Gentiles for His people.
And Pharaoh said, Go up and bury thy father, according as he made thee swear.
Jacob has died in Egypt, and Joseph — the man whose word ruled the land — cannot simply take his father's body out of it. He must send a request to the throne, and Pharaoh's answer rests on one thing: the oath Jacob had made his son swear.
Joseph held the highest place under Pharaoh, yet this errand made him cautious. One writer notices that he treated it as a delicate piece of business and got others to speak up for him.
When Joseph comes to act on his oath, he seems to me to feel this — that he was about to venture on a serious and risky matter. He clearly sets himself to a business that had its special difficulties. He was high at court, as we may say, since the court physicians were his servants (Gen. 50:2). But still he hesitates about burying his father in Canaan. He gets the help and intercession of Pharaoh's close relatives.
The difficulty lay in what the request implied. Asking to carry Jacob out of Egypt said, in public, that the poorer land was the better one.
Why all this? Was it not a small thing for so great a man to do? Yes — but a request to be buried in Canaan was, in some sense, putting a reproach on Egypt. It seemed to say that, after all, the Canaan of shame and poverty was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
Joseph brought the request anyway. What he did shows how to treat the world we live in.
This was the language of Jacob's request, and Joseph felt it was a serious thing to bring such language to Pharaoh's ear. But he did. Faith triumphed again. In this way he is a witness to us. We should let the world learn plainly from us that, with all its progress and promise, it is nothing to us, while Christ's cause, though in weakness, is our object.
Pharaoh's permission hangs on the oath. Jacob was easy-going about everything else in Egypt, and immovable about this.
We never find him pressing about the conditions of his life in Egypt. He seems willing to take what they give him and to be what they make him. But about his burial he is all urgency and decision. He will have it confirmed by an oath. His son must carry his dead body to the land that witnessed God's promise to him. He is earnest and firm now, as he was indifferent before. For faith likes to read its title clear, full and unassailable.
Pharaoh raises no objection. The funeral that follows shows how far Joseph had risen. Yet the grave itself says something the procession does not.
Jacob's funeral showed how high Joseph had risen in power and influence. Pharaoh gave his permission at once. All Jacob's sons joined Joseph in it, and so did many important people of Egypt. Still, they laid his body in the grave that showed these men of faith were still strangers and pilgrims.
Another writer reads the scale of it as God's doing rather than Joseph's rank alone.
Joseph then gained a favourable response from Pharaoh about burying his father's body in Canaan, as he had sworn to Jacob (vv. 4-6). This called for an enormous funeral procession all the way from Egypt to Canaan... There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. Here God is showing us the sovereignty of His great power and grace, producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel. Though the immediate father of Israel dies, his descendants remain, and God gives them favour among the Gentiles.
The grand funeral is not held up as a model. It suited a time when resurrection was still ahead.
In other days funerals were to be splendid, because resurrection was then still in the future. Funerals then were a kind of pledge of the resurrection they expected. It was fitting that the pledge should be magnificent, matching the glory of what it pledged. But now resurrection has become real in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the splendid funeral is more of a reproach, as though the great mystery itself had not yet become real in its substance and power. For funeral pomp is not now the pledge of our coming resurrection — the resurrection of the Lord is that, the first-fruits of a promised harvest.
- Oath. Jacob took whatever Egypt gave him in life. About his burial he demanded a sworn promise. Faith wants its title clear and unassailable.
- Request. Asking to leave Egypt for Canaan was a quiet insult. It said the poor land of promise beat the rich land of honour.
- Courage. Joseph was second only to the throne, yet he hesitated and got others to speak for him. Still he asked. He tells us to show the world where our real interest lies.
- Permission. Pharaoh gives leave at once. The great funeral that follows shows God producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people.
- Grave. The tomb in Canaan marks these men as strangers and pilgrims. The pomp was a pledge of resurrection. For us that is no longer a pledge — it is accomplished in the risen Christ.
And Joseph went up to bury his father; and with him went up all the bondmen of Pharaoh, the elders of his house, and all the elders of the land of Egypt,
Jacob dies in Egypt, but the funeral that follows heads for Canaan — and the whole Egyptian court travels with it. Why did so much of Egypt's greatness gather around one man's coffin? And why did that coffin not stay in the land that honoured it?
The escort named here is a state escort. Commentators note how much bigger this burial was than any before it in the family. They see God's hand behind the honour.
This called for a huge funeral procession all the way from Egypt to Canaan. It included all the elders of the house of Pharaoh and the elders of the land of Egypt. Joseph's brothers and their families went too, except for their little ones. There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. But here God is showing us the sovereignty of His great power and grace in producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel.
Commentators differ on how far that escort went. One traces the Egyptians only part of the way.
They went to Atad, and Joseph went on to Canaan… Verse 13 would show, I think, that Jacob's sons carried him and buried him in Machpelah. That was not Atad. In verse 10, "beyond Jordan" would mean east of the Jordan, so that the sons of Jacob crossed over, but not the Egyptians.
Joseph was a great man in Egypt. Yet asking to bury his father in Canaan was no small favour to ask. One writer explains why.
Was it not a small thing for so great a man to do? Yes; but a request to be buried in Canaan was, in some sense, putting a reproach upon Egypt. It seemed to say, after all, the Canaan of degradation and poverty was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
Joseph made the request anyway. The same writer sees in him a lesson for us:
Faith won again. In this way he is a witness to us. We should let the world learn clearly from us that it is nothing to us, for all its progress and promise. What belongs to Christ, weak as it looks, is our aim.
A splendid funeral fits Genesis in a way it would not fit now. The reason given is the difference between a pledge and a fulfilment.
In earlier days they were meant to be splendid. Resurrection was then only ahead of them. Funerals were a kind of pledge of the resurrection they expected. It was right that the pledge should be splendid, matching the glory of what it pledged. But resurrection has now become real in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the splendid funeral… is more of a reproach, as if the great mystery had not yet become real in substance and power. Grand funerals are not what pledges our coming resurrection now. The resurrection of the Lord is that pledge, the first-fruits of a promised harvest.
One funeral tells two stories at once: how high Joseph had risen, and what his family still were.
Jacob's funeral showed the extraordinary place of power and influence Joseph had reached. Pharaoh gave his permission at once. People in Canaan saw it as a great mourning of the Egyptians. Still, they laid his body in the grave that showed these men of faith were strangers and pilgrims.
The place where Egypt mourned has a name with a meaning in it. One writer draws the lesson out.
This mourning of the Egyptians is specially marked at "the threshing floor of Atad, which is beyond the Jordan." Atad is the buckthorn. The thorn is the sign of the curse — what grows on barren soil. The threshing floor fits the lesson of Jacob's life of discipline… Only, the world can see the thorns as well as faith can; but faith alone can see the threshing floor. The world mourns the "few and evil days" — the blight and the poverty of life. Faith, smiling through her tears, accepts the needed discipline of a Father's love. Joseph and the Egyptians are not one, although the Canaanites may confuse them.
- Honour given. Pharaoh's servants and all Egypt's elders travel with Joseph. No earlier funeral in the family had anything like it. God was moving the nations to feel for His people.
- Honour risked. Asking for burial in Canaan told Egypt that poor Canaan beat rich Egypt. Joseph asked anyway, and faith won.
- Honour borrowed. The splendour suited a day when resurrection was still only ahead. Christ is risen, so the pledge is no longer needed. He is the first-fruits of the harvest.
- Honour limited. The Egyptians seem to have gone only as far as Atad. Jacob's sons crossed the Jordan and buried their father in the family cave.
- Honour outlived. The procession showed how high Joseph had climbed. The grave in Canaan showed his family were still strangers. The world sees only the thorns; faith sees the threshing floor too.
and all the house of Joseph, and his brethren, and his father's house; only their little ones, and their flocks, and their herds, they left in the land of Goshen.
Jacob has died in Egypt, and his son Joseph is taking the body home to Canaan for burial. This verse counts who went with him — and quietly notes who stayed behind in Goshen.
The funeral party that left Egypt was enormous. One commentator sees God's hand behind its size:
This called for a huge funeral procession all the way from Egypt to Canaan. It included all the elders of Pharaoh's house and the elders of the land of Egypt. Joseph's brothers and their families went too — all except their little ones (vv. 7-8). Not only this, but chariots and horsemen accompanied them (v. 9). There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. But here God shows us the sovereignty of His great power and grace. He is producing sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel. Though Israel's immediate father dies, his descendants remain, God giving them favor among the Gentiles.
Joseph held great power in Egypt. Even so, this was a delicate thing to ask:
Asking for burial in Canaan was, in a way, putting a reproach on Egypt. It seemed to say that, after all, the Canaan of degradation and poverty was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
Joseph passed the request on to Pharaoh anyway:
This was what Jacob's request said, and Joseph felt it was a serious thing to bring such a message to Pharaoh. But he did it. Faith triumphed again. In this way he is a witness to us. We should let the world learn clearly from us that, for all its progress and promise, it is nothing to us, while what belongs to Christ, weak as it looks, is what we are after.
Egypt honoured Jacob highly. Yet the grave he went to told another story:
Jacob's funeral showed the extraordinary position of power and influence Joseph had reached. Pharaoh gave his permission at once. All Jacob's sons joined Joseph in it, and so did many important people of Egypt. It was recognised in Canaan as a great mourning of the Egyptians. Even so, they laid his body in the grave that showed these men of faith were still strangers and pilgrims.
Jacob was not the first in his family buried there. The same choice runs through four generations:
In the land of Canaan Sarah had lived with Abraham as a stranger and a pilgrim; "in the land of Canaan" she had died; and "in the land of Canaan" she was buried. In the same faith, at a later date, the sons of Isaac bury their father at Hebron, in the land of Canaan. So too, in due time, Jacob, though he dies in Egypt, is buried in faith by his sons in the land of Canaan, in the cave of Machpelah. In the same fine faith, Joseph, when he came to die, takes an oath from the children of Israel that they will carry his bones from Egypt to the land of Canaan.
The children and the livestock stayed in Goshen, the part of Egypt where the family lived. So the mourners meant to come back. Yet Egypt was never where their hope lay:
They had never abandoned the hope of returning to Canaan as their land of promise. The burial of Jacob proclaimed this loudly; the unburied coffin of Joseph, still more loudly.
This burial also pointed forward:
We have then the lot of the children of Jacob. Two facts stand here: the burying of Jacob, and the command about the bones of Joseph. They are given as a certain pledge that Israel will be re-established. For now the people are left in a strange country, as God had said to Abraham, and to all appearance abandoned there.
The text names several groups, and not all of them went the same distance. Asked whether the Egyptians crossed the Jordan, one writer answers from the wording:
It does not say so. They went to Atad, and Joseph went on to Canaan. "Beyond Jordan" can only be understood according to the standpoint of the writer. Verse 13 would show, I think, that Jacob's sons carried him and buried him in Machpelah. That was not Atad, nor did all the people of verse 9 go over.
- Promise. Canaan was theirs by promise, so they buried their dead there in faith — Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, and at last Joseph's bones.
- Cost. Asking for a grave outside Egypt put a reproach on Egypt. Joseph felt that weight, and spoke to Pharaoh anyway.
- Honour. Pharaoh's elders, chariots and horsemen joined the procession. One commentator traces that favour to God's power and grace.
- Strangers. All that splendour ended at a grave. It marked these men out as strangers and pilgrims still.
- Pledge. The children stayed in Goshen, and the family went back to Egypt. Yet this burial, and Joseph's later charge about his bones, pledged that Israel would one day be re-established in the land.
And there went up with him both chariots and horsemen; and the camp was very great.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And they came to the threshing-floor of Atad, which is beyond the Jordan; and there they lamented with a great and very grievous lamentation; and he made a mourning for his father of seven days.
The last chapter of Genesis carries Jacob's body out of Egypt. On the way the whole procession stops at a threshing floor called Atad, and mourns there seven days. Why the long pause? Why so vast a show of grief? And what did the Canaanites who watched make of it?
Atad is not a settled town but a working floor, and the mourning held there gave the spot a new name. A Bible dictionary notes that the Hebrew allows two readings, and that the surrounding verses settle which one fits:
With the Hebrew vowel points, this name means "meadow of the Egyptians." Read without them, or with different points, it means "mourning of the Egyptians." The context in Genesis 50:11 shows that "mourning" is part of the name. It was the threshing floor of Atad, "beyond the Jordan." That seems to place the seven days' mourning east of the Jordan. If so, the mourning came before they carried the body into Canaan for burial. But some hold that Moses by "beyond the Jordan" means the west, because he was standing on the east side. The people of the land are called Canaanites, which also points to the west. Jerome uses a similar phrase, "across the Jordan," and then says that Atad, the same place, lay between the Jordan and Jericho. The site has not been identified.
A threshing floor exists for one purpose. One writer reads the grief held there in the light of it:
Coming to the threshing floor of Atad, the company mourned deeply for seven days (v. 10). On the threshing floor the chaff is separated from the grain. It speaks of blessing that comes out of suffering. It pictures the nation Israel blessed at last through the tribulation (the threshing).
Scripture sets this week of weeping beside other scenes like it:
It is a divine command to "weep with those who weep," and examples are not lacking in the history Scripture gives. The household of Joseph and his brothers mourned for the death of Jacob with a "very great and grievous lamentation" at Abel-mizraim (Gen. 50:10-11). Job's three friends wept aloud for him in his sorrow. They tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads. Then they sat with him in silence for seven days (Job 2). Jeremiah lamented the death of King Josiah (2 Chron. 35:25).
Why such a grand funeral? One writer explains the splendour as a promise made visible, and draws a sharp conclusion for today:
So it was with funerals, as well as with worship. In earlier days they were meant to be magnificent, because resurrection was then only in prospect. Funerals then were a pledge of the resurrection they expected. It was fitting that the pledge should be splendid, matching the glory of what it pledged. But now resurrection has become fact in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the grand funeral, like ceremonious worship, is more of a reproach. It is as though the great mystery itself had not yet become real in its substance and power. For it is not funeral pomp that is now the pledge of our coming resurrection; the resurrection of the Lord is that, the firstfruits of a promised harvest.
Egypt paid these honours because of Joseph's rank. But the place of burial told another story:
They were in Egypt, so they kept the burial customs of that land up to a point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. Jacob wanted it to lie in the land of promise, and so did Joseph. God's promise was real to their faith. Jacob's funeral bore witness to the extraordinary position of power and influence Joseph had reached. Pharaoh gave permission without hesitation. All Jacob's sons joined Joseph in it, along with many important people of Egypt. Canaan recognised it as a great mourning of the Egyptians. Even so, they laid his body in the grave that testified these men of faith were still strangers and pilgrims.
The onlookers saw only overwhelming grief. Believers now stand somewhere else entirely:
Genesis 49 ends with Jacob's death. The closing chapter (Gen. 50) tells us of his sons carrying him to the field of Machpelah in Canaan, where his fathers lay buried. It was a grievous mourning in the eyes of the people of the land. What a difference for those who know Christ glorified in heaven! Those who are "not of the world" depart to be with Him.
- Place. Atad was a threshing floor "beyond the Jordan," named after the mourning held there. Commentators differ over which side of the river it lay on. No one has identified the site.
- Pledge. Grand funerals belonged to an age when resurrection was still only promised. The splendour matched the glory it stood for.
- Grief. Seven days of loud lament is no failure of faith. Scripture commands us to weep with those who weep. It records the same sorrow in Job's friends and in Jeremiah.
- Pilgrimage. Egypt supplied the honours. But the body went to Machpelah, to a grave that marked these men as strangers and pilgrims.
- Hope. The threshing floor pictures blessing that comes through suffering. Christ is now glorified, and those who leave this world depart to be with Him.
And the inhabitants of the land, the Canaanites, saw the mourning at the threshing-floor of Atad, and they said, This is a grievous mourning of the Egyptians. Therefore the name of it was called Abel-Mizraim, which is beyond the Jordan.
Egypt sends a royal escort with Jacob's body, and on the way to the burial cave the procession stops to mourn at a threshing floor. The local people watch, and the name they give the place says as much about them as about the grief they saw.
The Canaanites named the place, not Joseph's family. What the name means depends on how you read the Hebrew:
With the Hebrew points, the name means "meadow of the Egyptians." Read without them, or with different points, it means "mourning of the Egyptians." The context in Genesis 50:11 points to "mourning" as part of the name. The place was the threshing floor of Atad, "beyond the Jordan." That seems to put the seven days of mourning east of the Jordan, before they carried the body into Canaan for burial. But some hold that Moses means the west by "beyond the Jordan," because he stood on the east side. The name Canaanites for the people of the land also points to the west.
Commentators differ on exactly where this took place. One writer notes that not everyone in the procession went all the way to the grave:
They went to Atad, and Joseph went on to Canaan. "Beyond the Jordan" only makes sense from where the writer was standing. Verse 13 shows, I think, that Jacob's sons carried him and buried him in Machpelah. That was not Atad, and not everyone in verse 9 crossed over.
Strangers named a place after this grief. Joseph is the reason Egypt grieved:
The Canaanites living in the land were so impressed by this sight that they named the place Abel-mizraim, meaning "the mourning of the Egyptians" (v. 11). Joseph had saved Egypt, so the Egyptians recognized that salvation came from Israel (John 4:22). The nations therefore have every reason to show deep respect for Israel. We Christians today must never forget that our Savior came from Israel.
Earlier funerals in this family were nothing like it:
There was nothing like this at the funerals of Abraham or Isaac. Here God is showing us the sovereignty of His great power and grace. He produced sympathy among the Gentiles for His people Israel. Israel's immediate father dies, but his descendants remain, and God gives them favour among the Gentiles.
The Canaanites saw one crowd of mourners and called the grief Egyptian. One writer shows how much they missed. A threshing floor is where grain is beaten loose from the chaff:
Atad is the buckthorn. The threshing floor expresses well the whole lesson of Jacob's life of discipline. The thorn is the sign of the curse — what grows on barren soil… Here are the thorns, and here is the threshing floor; and here, too, is the mourning. The world can see the thorns, and so can faith; but faith alone can see the threshing floor. The world mourns the "few and evil days" — the spoiling and the poverty of life. Faith, smiling through her tears, accepts the necessary chastening of a Father's love. Joseph and the Egyptians are not one, even though the Canaanites may well mix them up.
The funeral showed how high Joseph had risen. The grave said something else:
Jacob's funeral showed the extraordinary place of power and influence Joseph had reached. Pharaoh gave his permission at once. All Jacob's sons joined Joseph in it, and so did many important people of Egypt. Canaan saw it as a great mourning of the Egyptians. Yet they laid his body in a grave that showed these men of faith were still strangers and pilgrims.
The splendour was fitting for its moment, but that moment has passed:
In earlier days funerals were meant to be magnificent. Resurrection was then still ahead. A funeral was a kind of pledge of the resurrection they expected, and it was fitting that the pledge should be magnificent, matching the glory of what it promised. But resurrection has now come true in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the grand funeral, like ceremonious worship, is more of a reproach, as if the great mystery had not yet come true in substance and power.
The same contrast is felt in how the onlookers described the scene:
The closing chapter tells us of his sons carrying him to the field of Machpelah in Canaan, where his fathers were buried: a grievous mourning in the eyes of the people of the land. What a difference for those who know Christ glorified in heaven, when those who are "not of the world" depart to be with Him!
- Named — the watching Canaanites called the place Abel-mizraim, "mourning of the Egyptians." The name records what outsiders saw. Writers differ over whether the spot lay east or west of the Jordan.
- Caused — Egypt wept for Jacob because Joseph had saved Egypt. The nation that received salvation through Israel honoured Israel's father.
- Given — Abraham and Isaac had no funeral like this. The sympathy of the nations was God's own gift of favour to His people.
- Missed — the world saw the thorns of a hard life, but not the threshing floor. Faith takes the same sorrows as a Father's chastening. Joseph and the Egyptians were never one.
- Ended — the grave in Canaan marked these men as strangers and pilgrims. Grand funerals once pledged a resurrection still to come; Christ is risen, so that pledge is no longer needed.
And his sons did to him according as he had commanded them;
Jacob has died in Egypt, far from the land God promised his family. His sons obeyed his burial charge, and that obedience carries a family history, a refusal to settle in Egypt, and a hope that reaches past the grave.
Jacob's sons were doing what Isaac's sons had done before them. This was not one man's private wish. Each generation acted on a promise none of them had yet seen kept.
God had revealed Himself to Abraham as the Almighty, and as the God of resurrection. He had assured him that He had given him the land where he was a stranger — all the land of Canaan — as an everlasting possession (Gen. 17:8). All was his by promise, though not yet in possession... In the same faith, at a later date, the sons of Isaac bury their father at Hebron, in the land of Canaan (Gen. 35:27-29). So, too, in due time, Jacob dies in Egypt, yet his sons bury him in faith in the land of Canaan, in the cave of Machpelah (Gen. 50:13). With the same fine faith, Joseph, when he came to die, makes the children of Israel swear that they will carry his bones from Egypt to the land of Canaan (Gen. 50:25-26; Ex. 13:19).
Egyptian custom shaped part of the funeral. But there was a line Jacob would not let his sons cross.
They were in Egypt, so they kept the burial customs of that land up to a certain point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's desire, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "Faith is the substantiating of things hoped for" (Heb. 11:1, Darby Translation). The things hoped for are real, and faith substantiates them, or makes them real, to us.
Jacob gave this charge more than once, and the repetition carries weight. Death did not cancel what God had promised him.
First, Jacob dies, and is buried. Again we find him charging, this time all his sons, to bury him with his fathers in Machpelah. Do we not need the impressive reiteration that the promise of life is all untouched by death? The living man sends his dead body in to take possession in hope of his inheritance.
The care these men took over their dead bodies can look strange today. It said something about what they expected God to do with those bodies.
The patriarchs of the Jewish family all put special value on their dead bodies. They laid them up with great care in Machpelah. This care and zeal of theirs was the confession of their sure and certain hope of resurrection. But they connected resurrection with the land of Canaan. And so Jacob and Joseph, who died in Egypt, arranged for their bones to be carried over and laid in Canaan. This tells us that their hope of resurrection was the same as their hope of finally possessing the promised land.
The mourning at the threshing floor of Atad happened somewhere on the way, and commentators differ over where. The phrase "beyond the Jordan" can be read from either bank, depending on where you imagine the writer standing.
The context in Gen. 50:11 indicates "mourning" as a part of the name. It was the threshing floor of Atad "beyond Jordan." This would seem to place the seven days' mourning on the east of Jordan, before the body was carried into Canaan, for burial: compare Gen. 50:12-13. But some hold that Moses by "beyond Jordan" means the west, because his own standpoint was the east... It is not identified.
A splendid funeral once carried a meaning it no longer carries.
In other days funerals were to be magnificent. This was because resurrection was then only in prospect, and funerals then were a kind of pledge of the expected resurrection. It was fitting that the pledge should be magnificent, matching the glory of what it pledged. But now resurrection has become real in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the grand funeral, like the ceremonious worship, is instead a reproach. It is as though the great mystery itself had not yet become real in its substance and power. Funeral pomp is not the pledge of our coming resurrection now. The resurrection of the Lord is that pledge, the firstfruits of a promised harvest.
- Charge — Jacob told all his sons where to bury him, and he said it more than once.
- Carried — the sons obeyed, as Isaac's sons had done before them. They buried their father in Canaan, not in Egypt.
- Claim — the grave staked out promised ground. A dying man sent his body ahead to take hold of an inheritance he had never owned.
- Confession — the care over their bones declared one hope. They expected resurrection in the land God had promised.
- Celebration — their splendid funeral pledged a resurrection still to come. Christ has risen, so His resurrection is now the pledge. Ours needs no display.
and his sons carried him into the land of Canaan, and buried him in the cave of the field of Machpelah which Abraham had bought along with the field, for a possession of a sepulchre, of Ephron the Hittite, opposite to Mamre.
Jacob's sons carry his body out of Egypt and bury it in a cave near Mamre, in ground Abraham had bought. Why does Scripture name the field, the seller, and the purpose of the grave with such care?
Abraham paid Ephron for this field. One writer asks what that payment shows about God's promise:
Some say that God did later give him a possession in Canaan: the piece of land he bought from Ephron as a burial-place (Genesis 23:17). That is completely wrong. God's gift is absolute and future. Buying a burial-place from the Hittite confirms that; it does not weaken it. For who that owned this land, or any other, would think of buying what he already owned? There he lays his dead, in land so obviously not his own that he has to buy it for the purpose — the pledge to faith that he will have it another day.
Jacob laid this charge on all his sons. One writer asks what the repeated telling is for:
First, Jacob dies, and is buried. Again we find him charging, this time all his sons, to bury him with his fathers in Machpelah. Do we not need the impressive reminder, said again and again, that the promise of life is completely untouched by death? The living man sends his dead body in to take possession in hope of his inheritance.
Jacob asked more than once to be buried in Canaan. One writer weighs what that insistence shows:
Jacob ends these last conversations with his sons where he had begun them: with Machpelah and his burial (Genesis 47:29; 49:29). He already had Joseph's word and oath on this matter, and now he must put all of them under the same promise to him about it. Death was more important to him than life. Life kept him in Egypt; death would restore him to Canaan. Death linked him with the God and the promise of his fathers. The hopes of faith lay beyond life, and outside Egypt.
Joseph had his father embalmed in the Egyptian way. But there the borrowing stopped:
Being in Egypt, they followed that land's burial customs up to a certain point. But Jacob's body was not to lie embalmed in an Egyptian tomb. By Jacob's wish, as well as Joseph's, it was to lie in the land of promise. The promise of God was a reality to their faith, since "faith is the assurance of things hoped for." The things hoped for are real, and faith makes them real to us.
The writer quoted Hebrews 11:1 from an older translation: "faith is the substantiating of things hoped for."
Burials in that cave began with Sarah and run down to Jacob. One writer traces the line, and names the one man missing from it:
Burial in the land began with Sarah. In Abraham it was no mere feeling or fancy, no sentiment or superstition, but a fruit of faith. He looked to receive from God's hand the land where he laid her body… He knew that all the land of Canaan would be his for an everlasting possession. That is why burial in Canaan mattered so much to the patriarchs, while they kept their character as pilgrims… Joseph also made the sons of Israel swear (Genesis 50:25-26): "God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones from here." So he too was embalmed and put in a coffin in Egypt. But when deliverance came, Moses took the bones of Joseph with him (Exodus 13:19). In due time the children of Israel buried them — not in the cave of Machpelah, but in Shechem.
One writer weighs what a splendid funeral meant then, and what it would say now:
In earlier days funerals were meant to be splendid. That was because resurrection was then only in prospect. Funerals were a kind of pledge of the resurrection they expected. It was fitting that the pledge should be magnificent, matching the glory of what it pledged. But resurrection is now a reality in the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God. So the splendid funeral, like ceremonious worship, is rather a reproach — as though the great mystery itself were still not real in its substance and power. For it is not funeral pomp that is now the pledge of our coming resurrection; the resurrection of the Lord is that, the first-fruits of a promised harvest.
- Bought — Abraham paid for the field. Paying proved the land was not yet his, and the deed was faith's receipt for a promise God would still keep.
- Pledged — the grave was Jacob's claim on an inheritance he had never held; the living man sent his body ahead to take possession in hope.
- Carried — Egypt embalmed Jacob but did not bury him. Life kept him in Egypt; death restored him to Canaan.
- Gathered — Sarah, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob lie in one bought cave. Joseph's bones went to Shechem instead.
- Fulfilled — a grand funeral once pledged a resurrection still to come. Now the pledge is Christ's own resurrection, the first-fruits of the harvest.
And, after he had buried his father, Joseph returned to Egypt, he and his brethren, and all that had gone up with him to bury his father.
The burial in Canaan is over, and the whole company turns back to Egypt. This verse closes Jacob's funeral and sets Joseph down again in the land where one last test waited for him.
Joseph's journey started with an oath taken at his father's bedside. Carrying it out weighed on him, high as he stood in Egypt.
Jacob, his father, when dying, had made him swear that he would bury him in the land of Canaan. When Joseph comes to act on his oath, he seems to me to feel this, that he was about to venture on a serious and risky matter. He clearly sets himself to a business which had its special difficulties. He was high at court, and the strength and wealth of Egypt were under his hand. But still he hesitates about burying his father in Canaan, and gets Pharaoh's close relatives to speak for him.
Why would so small an errand carry any weight? Because of what Canaan and Egypt each stood for.
Was it not a small thing for so great a man to do? Yes; but asking to be buried in Canaan was, in some sense, putting a reproach on Egypt. It seemed to say, after all, that the Canaan of poverty and low esteem was better than the Egypt of honour and wealth.
The funeral showed Joseph at the height of his influence. The grave told a different story about his family.
Jacob's funeral showed the extraordinary place of power and influence Joseph had reached. Pharaoh readily gave his permission. All Jacob's sons joined Joseph in it, and so did many important people of Egypt. It was recognised in Canaan as a great mourning of the Egyptians. Even so, his body was laid in the grave that bore witness that these men of faith were still strangers and pilgrims.
Everyone who had gone up with Joseph came back with him. So how far into the land did the Egyptian escort travel?
They went to Atad, and Joseph went on to Canaan. "Beyond the Jordan" can only be understood according to the standpoint of the writer. Verse 13 would show, I think, that Jacob's sons carried him and buried him in Machpelah. That was not Atad, and not all the people of verse 9 went over.
Joseph goes back to his post and dies there. Yet he arranged for his bones to leave.
He had been exalted in Egypt. Yet he made the sons of Israel swear a solemn oath: when God visits them, as He surely will, they will carry up his bones from there. He had served God in Egypt, but to him it was always the strange land. He lived there, ruled there, had a family there, and died there at a hundred and ten years old, fuller of honours than of years. Still, he feels that Egypt is not the land of God. He knows that He will redeem His people from it and bring them into Canaan… Earthly honours did not settle him down in Egypt.
Joseph came home to brothers who had never opened their hearts to him.
Seventeen years have gone by… Joseph's brothers lived in Goshen. He had lavished his love on them, but after all they did not know his heart… There had not been any real confession on their side. No wonder they were not perfectly at ease. They thought it was all right as long as their father lived, but when he passed away matters had to be settled.
Their message put Joseph on trial.
Back in Egypt, one last test confronted Joseph. His brothers sent him a message which showed that they had never quite trusted his generous attitude towards them. They felt it was too good to be really true, and suspected it was a kindness put on for the sake of his old father, Jacob.
One writer reads the road from Egypt to Hebron as a picture of the heart's own journey.
Atad means "a thorn bush," and they reached the place as they journeyed from Egypt to Hebron. As we move in our affections along the path from man's world to the sphere of divine purpose, do we not need to face the exercise of Atad's threshing floor? We need to realise how frail the flesh is, and how unsuited it is to the presence of God. … There would be less "returning to Egypt," either in mind or in ways, and a deeper appreciation of what Hebron stands for.
- Oath. Joseph treated his father's dying wish as serious and risky. He carried it out from the top of Egypt's court.
- Grave. Burying Jacob in Canaan put a quiet reproach on Egypt. The tomb marked these men as strangers and pilgrims.
- Return. Joseph went back and stayed. Egypt was always the strange land to him, and its honours never settled him there.
- Test. One last trial waited in Egypt. His brothers suspected his kindness was only a show for their father.
- Warning. The heart can return to Egypt too. Face Atad's threshing floor, and what Hebron stands for grows dearer.
And when Joseph's brethren saw that their father was dead, they said, If now Joseph should be hostile to us, and should indeed requite us all the evil that we did to him!
Genesis 50 closes with Joseph's brothers standing at their father's fresh grave. With Jacob dead, they assume the only reason Joseph ever treated them well has died too.
The brothers had watched Joseph's generosity for years. They still treated it as a performance, and now the man they thought it was for was gone.
Back in Egypt, one last test confronted Joseph. His brothers sent him a message. It showed that they had never quite trusted his generous attitude towards them. They felt it was too good to be true. They suspected it was a kindness put on for the sake of his old father, Jacob. If that had been so, now was the time for the true Joseph to reveal himself in paying off the old score.
But they had read it wrong. Joseph's kindness had never rested on Jacob at all.
But it was not his father standing between them that caused Joseph to show kindness to them for their ill treatment. What moved him was his relationship to God. He had shown them the kindness of God. In a higher way, the Lord Jesus has shown the love and grace of God to sinners who had rebelled against Him. More than that, Joseph's words to them had only been good (ch. 45:4-8). Could they not simply trust his word?
The verse gives their reasoning in their own words: he will hate us, he will pay us back. Notice where that logic came from.
They remember that when Joseph was only a boy of seventeen "they hated him and could not speak peacefully to him." So now they conclude, "It may be that Joseph will hate us." Conscience recalls how wickedly they had acted towards Joseph. So now they say, "He will pay us back for all the evil that we did to him." They judge his thoughts by their thoughts, his heart by their hearts, and his acts by their acts.
They knew Joseph's power and his provision. What they did not know was Joseph himself.
Joseph had saved their lives with a great deliverance (Gen. 45:7); he had put them in possession of "the best of the land" of Egypt, and he had provided them with bread (Gen. 47:12). For seventeen years they had received Joseph's generosity. They had been the special objects of his loving care. Yet when a crisis arises, it becomes clear that they have no personal knowledge of Joseph. They know something of his greatness and glory. They know the great work he has done. They know that every blessing they enjoy comes from his position and work. But they had no personal acquaintance with his mind and heart. It is as if they said, "We know what he has done for us, but we do not know how he feels about us."
They did not go to Joseph in person. They sent a message quoting an order from their father.
And worse, they try to hide their own unbelief and mistrust of Joseph. They pretend they are only carrying out the dying commands of Joseph's father. It is impossible to believe that Jacob left any such command. They have completely forgotten that Joseph forgave all their sad past, and now they beg to be forgiven. Joseph had shown them grace and love all along. Still their uneasy conscience holds on to the thought that Joseph has something against them.
The chapter records Joseph's reaction to the message in a single line: he wept.
He had forgiven them freely and fully. He had spared their lives when they were entirely in his power. How could they suppose that after so many years of kindness he would turn on them in anger and revenge? It was indeed a grievous wrong. No wonder that "Joseph wept when they spoke to him." What an answer to all their unworthy fear and dark suspicion! A flood of tears! Such is love!
The pattern is not locked in ancient Egypt. Commentators apply it to Christians who know Christ's work but not His heart.
We know something of the glory of the Person of Christ. We know something of the power of His work. We enjoy the benefits that flow from His finished work on the cross and His present service in the glory. But when some little crisis arises in our history, it becomes clear how little we know of His heart, and so how little confidence we have in Him personally.
- Trigger. Jacob's death removed the only reason the brothers thought Joseph had for kindness. They had never trusted the kindness itself.
- Mirror. Their fear was a self-portrait, not a prophecy. They judged his thoughts by their thoughts, his heart by their hearts.
- Gap. Seventeen years of Joseph's provision taught them what he had done for them, but not how he felt about them.
- Cover. They hid their unbelief behind a command they said their father left. They never went to Joseph himself.
- Answer. Their suspicion wounded a loving heart. Joseph's answer to years of doubt was tears, not revenge.
And they sent a messenger to Joseph, saying, Thy father commanded before he died, saying,
The brothers have buried Jacob. Now the ten men who once sold Joseph into slavery stand alone with the man they wronged. They do not go to him. They send words ahead instead — words that put their father's dying wish between themselves and Joseph.
For years the brothers had lived under Joseph's care. Nobody raised the old wrong. The funeral changed that.
Let us go into the room where the dead man lies. It will do you no harm. It was not for one day, but for forty days. Every one of those ten men then said to himself, It has come, the old man is gone, and what will happen now? Again conscience woke up. As they look at the body of their father, their conscience works.
The verse turns on one choice: they sent word instead of going themselves. One writer sees in that choice both what kept them unhappy and the only way out.
They send a messenger. They would have been far happier if they had each gone themselves… I have a very grave doubt whether the old man did say this. But they knew the time had now come when they had to get fully right with Joseph, and they could only do that by honestly admitting the past. So with you, my friend, and God. If you do not confess outright you will never get peace.
One writer weighs what the message got right and what it gave away.
Their message was very diplomatic. They invoked the memory of their dead father to shelter themselves. They admitted the wrong they had done many years before, which was good. They also called themselves servants of the God of Jacob. But they still showed all too clearly what they thought: that all his past goodness did not express his real self.
Another writer goes further. He says the command was never given, and he turns the episode into a warning for anyone whose conscience starts to accuse them.
They try to hide their own unbelief and mistrust of Joseph. They pretend they are only carrying out the dying commands of Joseph's father. It is impossible to believe that Jacob left any such command. They have completely forgotten that Joseph forgave their whole sad past, and now they beg to be forgiven… And it is the same with us. Suppose we are not living close to Christ, and have never come to know His heart. Then sin, failure, and a careless walk may leave us thinking, once conscience begins to work, that Christ is against us for something we have done.
The brothers' whole plan assumes that Jacob was the reason Joseph had been good to them. That assumption was false.
Joseph's kindness, after the way they had treated him, did not come from his father standing between them. What moved him was his own relationship to God. He had shown them the kindness of God. In the same way, but higher, the Lord Jesus has shown the love and grace of God to sinners who had rebelled against Him. More than that, Joseph's words to them had only been good. Could they not simply trust his word?
The brothers expected anger. What they got was tears.
Joseph had forgiven them freely and fully. He had spared their lives when they were completely in his power. How could they suppose that, after so many years of kindness, he would turn on them in anger and revenge? It was indeed a grievous wrong. No wonder that "Joseph wept when they spoke to him." What an answer to all their unworthy fear and dark suspicion! A flood of tears! Such is love!
The same writer applies this to us, because we repeat the fault.
We are troubled and upset when we ought to be calm and trusting… Surely few things should humble us more deeply than our tendency to distrust the Lord when difficulties and trials come. And we do grieve the heart of Jesus when we distrust Him, for distrust must always wound a loving heart.
- Conscience. Forty days beside their father's body woke the guilt the brothers had buried for years.
- Fear. They sent a messenger instead of facing Joseph, and hid behind a dying command. Going themselves would have made them happier.
- Cover. Naming their dead father showed what they believed: Joseph had been kind only for Jacob's sake.
- Truth. Joseph's goodness came from his relationship to God, and his word to them had only ever been good.
- Trust. Joseph answered their suspicion with tears. The same distrust still grieves the heart of Christ.
Thus shall ye speak to Joseph Oh forgive, I pray thee, the transgression of thy brethren, and their sin! for they did evil to thee. And now, we pray thee, forgive the transgression of the servants of the God of thy father. And Joseph wept when they spoke to him.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And his brethren also went and fell down before his face, and said, Behold, we are thy bondmen.
After Jacob's funeral the ten brothers stand alone before the man they once sold into slavery. They fall at his feet and call themselves his servants — but is this true repentance, or fear dressed up as humility?
The brothers act only once their father is buried. They had feared his kindness was really for Jacob's sake.
Back in Egypt, one last test confronted Joseph. His brothers sent him a message. It showed that they had never quite trusted his generous attitude towards them. They felt it was too good to be really true, and suspected that it was a kindness put on for the sake of his old father, Jacob. If that had been so, now was the time for the true Joseph to reveal himself and pay off the old score.
Before this they sent their words through a messenger. Now they come themselves.
They would have been far happier if they had gone themselves, one by one... They knew the time had now come to get thoroughly right with Joseph. That could only happen by an honest acknowledgement of the past. So it is with you, my friend, and God. If you do not confess outright you will never get peace.
They came in person once they knew what sort of man they were dealing with.
"His brothers also came and fell down before him," when they found what was in his heart — tenderness, nothing but love. They are at his feet in earnest, and their confession is completely real.
Not every commentator hears the words as pure humility. Their offer shows how little they had taken in Joseph's earlier forgiveness.
The message his brothers sent shows how little they knew of Joseph's heart — and so how little they trusted him. Worse, they try to hide their own unbelief and mistrust. They pretend they are only carrying out the dying commands of Joseph's father. It is impossible to believe that Jacob left any such command. They have completely forgotten Joseph's forgiveness of all their sad past, and now they beg to be forgiven. Joseph had shown them love and grace. Even so, their uneasy conscience leads them to hold on to the thought that Joseph still has something against them.
Joseph does not deny the fact behind their words. He refuses to use his power the way they expect.
His position in Egypt did make them his servants, as they confessed. But he would use his power to feed and protect them. He comforted them by speaking kindly.
Joseph answers their suspicion with grief, not anger.
This lack of confidence, after all the love that had been poured out on them, broke Joseph's heart. He "wept when they spoke to him." The saddest thing in all this sad world is love that is not returned. But though his tears showed how deeply he felt it, he speaks no word of reproach.
His settled goodwill did not rise or fall with their confidence in it.
Yet his attitude towards them did not change in the face of this display of unbelief... The goodness of his rule was real whether they fully relied on it or not. The smallness of their faith in no way changed the largeness of his heart.
As a boy Joseph had dreamed that his brothers' sheaves bowed to his. Here they bow in person.
Joseph probably did not understand God's purpose in the dream. It was a prophecy that his brothers would one day bow to his authority, as Genesis 42:6 tells us they did. Of course, the most vital lesson here is that all Israel will yet bow to the Lord Jesus, whom they have despised and hated.
Another writer measures the scene against both of Joseph's dreams.
There was a figurative fulfilment when his brothers did homage to him in Egypt. Their sheaves bowed to his. Nor did they fail in homage after they knew him. But this did not meet the full meaning of Joseph's prophetic dreams. The sheaves of Israel are to bow to the Messiah. The second dream goes further. It shows the sun, the moon and the eleven stars bowing to Christ in the person of His representative. They stand for all the appointed authority of the world, whether Gentile or Jewish.
- Fear moves them. They had suspected Joseph's kindness was really for his father's sake. With Jacob gone, they thought their shield was gone too.
- Confession comes close. A messenger was not enough. Only when they came in person and fell at his feet did their confession ring true.
- "Servants" reveals the gap. Offering themselves as servants shows they had never taken in the forgiveness already given. Their uneasy conscience still imagined Joseph held something against them.
- Love answers with tears. Joseph meets their distrust with tears and not one word of reproach. Then he turns his power to feeding and protecting them.
- The bowing points on. The brothers bowing is only a partial fulfilment of Joseph's dreams. Israel is yet to bow to the Lord Jesus.
And Joseph said to them, Fear not am I then in the place of God?
Joseph's brothers have just buried Jacob, and now they panic: they expect the man they once sold to settle the account at last. His answer — a question about who may judge — is the last thing Genesis says about their crime.
The brothers had been living on the wrong security. One writer notes that Joseph's kindness had never depended on the old man who had now died:
When their father had died, Joseph's brothers were afraid. They thought his attitude toward them would turn hostile as he recalled the way they had treated him (v. 15). But it was not his father's mediation that caused Joseph to show kindness to them for their ill treatment. It was rather his relationship to God that moved him... More than that, Joseph's words to them had only been good (Gen. 45:4-8). Could they not simply trust his word? Sometimes those who have trusted the Lord Jesus still have lingering fears that they might be lost. Why is this? Because they do not simply take His word, such as John 5:24, at face value.
Before Joseph says anything, he weeps. A commentator reads those tears as the pain of love that is not believed:
This lack of confidence, after all the love that had been lavished upon them, broke the heart of Joseph. He "wept when they spoke to him" (v. 17). The saddest thing in all this sad world is unrequited love. But though his tears showed how deeply he felt, he speaks no word of reproach. The very tears would surely be enough to wither up their unbelief.
Their suspicion made no sense against Joseph's record:
Joseph had freely and fully forgiven them. He had spared their lives when they were entirely in his power. How could they suppose that, after so many years of kindness, he would turn on them in anger and revenge? It was a grievous wrong, and no wonder that "Joseph wept when they spoke to him." What an answer to all their unworthy fear and dark suspicion! A flood of tears! Such is love!
The question in the verse is a refusal. Joseph will not be the judge of a case in which he is the injured party:
Joseph's reply is beautiful: "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?" (v. 19). Joseph would not think of judging his own case, for only God is Judge. Also, despite his high position in Egypt, he stayed a faithful brother to all Jacob's sons.
The same words also shape what Joseph does next:
Having wept, Joseph replied, and his words show again how consistently God was before him. He was not in the place of God, and therefore not free to act without reference to Him. God had acted in the whole matter, and meant it for good. Since that was God's intention, he would not for a moment turn aside from it. His acts toward them would also be consistently for their good.
Joseph names the evil and still tells them there is nothing to dread:
"As for you," he can say, "you meant evil against me," but he can add, "Do not fear." He says, as it were, "I know all the evil of your hearts toward me, but there is nothing to fear, for there is nothing but love in my heart toward you." And so once again he removes all fear about the past and all anxiety about the future. He adds, "I will provide for you and your little ones."
This answer was not a one-off flash of nobility. It matched how Joseph had spoken in every setting of his life:
Wherever he was found, God was in all his thoughts. When tempted, he said, "How can I... sin against God?" When brought to Pharaoh, his first words are, "God will give...". When he makes himself known to his brothers, he says, "Do not be distressed or angry with yourselves, for God sent me before you." When they distrust him, he says, "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?"
One writer hears Joseph's opening words later on the lips of the Lord Jesus:
"And Joseph said to them, Do not fear." That is just the way the Lord Jesus loves to comfort the soul. To win the confidence of the heart, He says to the trembling one, "Do not fear: I am Jesus."
- Fear — the brothers dreaded a change of heart. They leaned on their father's mediation instead of on Joseph's own good word.
- Tears — disbelief wounds love; Joseph wept, but sent back no reproach.
- Refusal — "am I in the place of God?" is Joseph declining the judge's seat in his own case, since only God judges.
- Restraint — because he is not God, he is not free to act apart from God, so he uses his power for their good.
- Comfort — Joseph names the evil, does not excuse it, and takes away the fear anyway. The Lord Jesus speaks the same "do not fear" to a trembling heart.
Ye indeed meant evil against me God meant it for good, in order that he might do as [it is] this day, to save a great people alive.
Joseph's brothers have just buried their father. Now they expect the man they sold into slavery to take his revenge. Joseph's answer does not deny what they did. It also does not leave them sitting in their fear. In one sentence he puts their evil and God's purpose side by side.
Joseph refuses the judge's seat while still calling their act what it was. One writer holds both halves of the verse together:
Joseph's reply is beautiful: "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?" (v. 19). Joseph would not think of judging his own case, for only God is Judge. Also, though he had been raised to power in Egypt, he still kept his place as brother to all of Jacob's sons. He did not excuse their evil thoughts against him (v. 20). But he insisted that God had used their evil to bring about great good, saving many people from death.
The brothers aimed to destroy Joseph's future. What they aimed at became the very road to it:
What his brothers did to Joseph was evil, and Joseph had done nothing to deserve it. But God was at work behind it. He turned the very harm they intended into the means of carrying out His good purpose. Joseph deserved honour, yet he was pushed from one humiliation down to a worse one. God used that road to bring him to honour in the end.
That God used their sin was no excuse for it, yet it was a mercy to men carrying a heavy conscience:
Their wrath had sold Joseph into Egypt. God used their sin to make Joseph the great organizer of that time, and he saved countless lives. Nothing could excuse the terrible sin of Joseph's brothers against him. Yet their consciences accused them, and it must have been a great comfort to find that God used the anger of man to praise Him.
Commentators read this verse as the pattern of something far greater than a famine in Egypt:
Verse 20 is a fine summing up of the whole story. They had committed a grievous wrong but God had overruled it for salvation. This at once directs our thoughts to the Lord Jesus Christ. His brothers plotted evil against Joseph. That was nothing compared with what the Jews did when they rejected and crucified their Messiah. God allowed it because He meant it for good. Through it He carried out an eternal redemption. He laid the foundation on which the whole building of blessing rests, in a new creation that matches His eternal purpose.
Joseph did not say this to just anyone. Notice who was standing in front of him:
But to whom were these wonderful words of grace addressed? To broken hearts and repentant spirits, and convicted consciences. To men who had learnt to say, "In truth, we are guilty concerning our brother." Only people like that can take in the truth we are looking at here.
The brothers' dread came from measuring Joseph by themselves. Their fear exposed how little they had come to know him:
They judged Joseph by what was in their own hearts. They thought he would pay them back for the evil they had done to him. Joseph wept again when they came and confessed their sin. And again he told them he would care for them and provide for them (Gen. 50:21).
Joseph's answer settles both the past and everything still ahead of them:
He can say, "As for you, you meant evil against me." But he can also say, "Do not fear." It is as if he said: "I know all the evil in your hearts toward me. Yet you have nothing to fear. There is nothing but love in my heart toward you." So once more he takes away their fear about the past. And he takes away their worry about the future.
Joseph could see God's hand when he looked back. In the middle of things, we usually cannot:
We cannot see how everything fits together. We cannot follow the turns of God's providence as it works. And we cannot weigh up how His dealings will finally turn out. So we badly need to wait on God. Above all, we need to hold on to our confidence in His love, which never changes, never fails, and never gets anything wrong. He will make everything plain. He will bring light out of darkness, life out of death, victory out of apparent defeat.
- Evil — real. Joseph never rewrites what his brothers did; their guilt stands, and only God is Judge of it.
- Overruled — higher. God worked above their crime, so the very act meant to ruin Joseph carried out His purpose of good.
- Cross — greater. Commentators see the same pattern at the cross, where man's worst act became the foundation of an eternal redemption.
- Fear — removed. The brothers judged Joseph by their own hearts; his answer told them there was nothing but love in his.
- Today — trusted. We cannot follow God's providence while we are living through it. So we hold to His unfailing love and wait for Him to bring light out of darkness.
And now, fear not I will maintain you and your little ones. And he comforted them, and spoke consolingly to them.
Their father is dead, and Joseph's brothers are afraid. They expect him to pay back the old wrong at last. Instead he promises them food and speaks to their hearts. Every guilty conscience asks the same question: does forgiveness hold when the person who shielded us is gone?
Joseph does not deny what his brothers did to him. He sets their evil and his own heart side by side, and the second one settles the matter.
"As for you," he can say, "you meant evil against me," but he can add, "Do not fear." He says, as it were, "I know all the evil of your hearts toward me, but there is nothing to fear, for there is nothing but love in my heart toward you." And so once again he removes all fear about the past and all anxiety about the future. He adds, "I will provide for you and your little ones." That was how "he comforted them and spoke to their hearts" (margin). Perfect love casts out all fear.
The phrase rendered "spoke kindly to them" carries in the margin a warmer sense: he spoke to their hearts. God wins back His straying people the same way.
How did Joseph dispel the lingering doubts of his brothers, who had treated him so shamefully? We read that "he comforted them and spoke to their hearts" (Gen. 50:21, margin). He confirmed his love to them. And how will the Lord at last restore His backsliding people? We read these touching words in Hosea: "I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her" (Hosea 2:14; older translations read "speak to her heart"). In wilderness circumstances God speaks to her heart and opens a door of hope to her. There, when love has done its work, she sings again as in the day when she came up out of the land of Egypt.
Joseph promises all this to men who had just shown they did not trust him.
Yet his attitude toward them did not change in the presence of this display of unbelief. His answer was, "Do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones. Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them." The benevolence of his rule was a reality whether they fully relied on it or not. The littleness of their faith in no way altered the largeness of his heart.
Joseph had already revealed himself to them years before. Their panic showed how little they had learned about the man himself. One writer applies that failure to older believers today.
Again Joseph wept when they came confessing their sin to him, and again he told them he would care for them and provide for them (Gen. 50:21). This loss of their peace showed that they had not grown in the knowledge of Joseph himself since he had made himself known to them. Had they grown, they would never have held such wrong thoughts about him. And this is just what explains the unhappy state of soul that sometimes overtakes older believers. They may have gathered a great deal of knowledge about various things, but the knowledge of God's Son — their Lord and Saviour — has been neglected.
The brothers had just called themselves Joseph's servants. He turns that power into their food supply, so forgiveness comes with a future attached.
He was so exalted in Egypt that they were indeed his servants, as they confessed. But he would use his power to feed and protect them. He comforted them by kindly speech.
What he asked in return was not payment but confidence.
For those who have repented there is not only the fullest forgiveness, but a provision of great blessing. There are words of kindness and comfort too, as we see in Joseph's assurance of blessing for his brothers (v. 21). He simply wanted them to trust him and believe his word. This is what the Lord Jesus desires of us.
The scene also points ahead. One writer sees in it a picture of how Christ will meet Israel.
Just as Joseph spoke kindly to his brothers, so will Christ speak to the repentant of Israel. He will bring them to share in the fruits of His work, with rich provision and blessing.
- Fear — Their fear grew out of how little they knew Joseph, years after he had made himself known to them.
- Love — He knew every wrong they had done and still had nothing but love toward them. Fear about the past and anxiety about the future both fell away.
- Word — "Spoke kindly" reads in the margin as spoke to their hearts. God promised to speak to His straying people the same way in the wilderness.
- Provision — Forgiveness came with food: Joseph spent his power on feeding them and their little ones.
- Trust — Their small faith never shrank his large heart. All he wanted was their trust in his word — and that is what Christ asks of us.
And Joseph dwelt in Egypt, he and his father's house; and Joseph lived a hundred and ten years.
Genesis ends with a long, quiet stretch of years. Joseph stays in Egypt, and that raises a question: what does a believer do with comfort and honour in a land that was never promised to him?
The famine had ended long before this verse. L. M. Grant notes how long Joseph lived past it, and what did not change in him:
Joseph remained in Egypt till his death at 110 years of age, far beyond the end of the famine. Before his death he became a great, great grandfather of Ephraim's descendants and also of those of Manasseh (v. 23). But his years in Egypt did not change his attitude as regards the promise of God. He still had his heart set on the land of Canaan. Though Joseph himself would not enjoy the land, he fully desired that the nation Israel would, as was true of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
He stayed, but he never belonged. William Kelly sets Joseph's whole career in Egypt beside what he still believed:
He had served God in Egypt, but to him it was always the strange land. He lived there, ruled there, had a family there, and died there at 110 years old, fuller of honours than of years. Yet he feels that Egypt is not the land of God. He knows that God will redeem His people from it and bring them into Canaan. It was beautiful fruit in its season: no change of circumstances interfered with the promises of God to the fathers. Joseph waited as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Earthly honours did not settle him down in Egypt.
The phrase in the next verse about "the third generation" has been counted in different ways. Darby gives the reckoning plainly:
The third generation means three, not counting the point of departure, and as Jacob's sons' sons went down, there is nothing to fix the fourth generation necessarily within seven from Jacob inclusively.
By now the family looked permanent in Egypt. Hamilton Smith shows what faith saw instead:
Joseph had been long in Egypt; he saw Ephraim's children of the third generation (v. 23). They were thoroughly established in the land of Egypt. To nature, nothing looked more unlikely than that a day would come when they would leave Egypt for a land they had never seen. But faith rises above the things it can see, and refuses to reason the way nature does. Faith sees clearly that the people of God may live for a time as strangers in the land of Egypt, and yet Egypt is not the land of rest that God has promised for His people.
Nothing in the family's circumstances hinted at trouble ahead. Bellett paints the scene as anyone living in it would have seen it:
The children of Israel were at that time very happy in the land of Egypt. They had the king's full favour. They held the richest district in the country. And they saw one of their own as the second man in the kingdom. Not a single symptom of danger or of change appeared in all their condition. And Joseph himself was as happy as circumstances could make him.
Joseph still expected trouble ahead. Bellett names what shaped his view of the future:
God's word was his wisdom. God's word in Genesis 15 had warned that Egypt would afflict Israel, but that God would befriend them and bring them back to Canaan. This word from God was everything to Joseph, everything to faith. Appearances were nothing. God had spoken it. Joseph believed it and remembered it. And so by faith Joseph saw Israel's suffering on the day of Israel's brightest promise and prosperity. He saw Egypt's hostility in this day of Egypt's friendship. He saw brick-kilns and taskmasters in the fair fields and sunny harvest of Goshen.
- Length. Joseph's 110 years ran far past the famine that made him great; the crisis was brief, the staying was long.
- Honour. Those years brought him rank, family and comfort. He died "fuller of honours than of years" — Egypt could decorate him, but it never owned him.
- Reach. He saw Ephraim's children of the third generation. The family was settled in Egypt for good, as far as anyone could see.
- Sight. Faith read the situation by God's word, not by the view from the window. It saw taskmasters in the middle of a prosperous harvest.
- Result. A lifetime of changing circumstances never loosened his grip on the promise. His heart stayed set on Canaan to the end.
And Joseph saw Ephraim's children of the third [generation]; the sons also of Machir the son of Manasseh were born on Joseph's knees.
Genesis closes with Joseph, an old man in Egypt, seeing his great-grandchildren counted as his own. The verse shows a settled, prosperous family — so why are Joseph's next words about leaving Egypt?
Joseph's own comfort was matched by the standing of his whole family in Egypt:
The children of Israel were at that time very happy in the land of Egypt. They had the king's full favour. They held the richest district in the country. And they saw one of their own as the second man in the kingdom. Not a single symptom of danger or of change appeared in all their condition. And Joseph himself was as happy as circumstances could make him.
Joseph's sons had an Egyptian mother. By birth, then, their children had no claim to a place in Israel's line. That changed when Jacob took the two boys as his own:
He then adopts the sons of Joseph. This was needed to give them the rights of children, because in a strict legal sense they were strangers to Abraham. Their mother was an Egyptian. They were a seed, therefore, whom the law would, in its day, have put away... But Jacob adopts them. He takes them into the family. He says to Joseph, "And now your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Egypt ... are mine." They are made of the seed of Abraham, and made children of Jacob.
Machir is the only descendant the verse names. Older translations say his sons were born on Joseph's knees. His line did not stay in the background:
Eldest son of Manasseh, and father of Gilead. His descendants were warlike and were the foremost in the tribe.
Joseph's family had been in Egypt long enough for any move to Canaan to look impossible:
Joseph had been long in Egypt; he saw Ephraim's children of the third generation (v. 23). They were firmly established in the land of Egypt. To nature, nothing looked less likely than that a day would come when they would leave the land of Egypt for a land they had never seen. But faith rises above the things that are seen. It refuses to reason the way nature does. It sees clearly that the people of God may live for a time in the land of Egypt, yet Egypt is not the land of rest that God has promised for His people. Being strangers in the land of Egypt may be part of God's ways with His people. But it has no place in God's purpose for His people.
Joseph's certainty rested on what God had already said, not on what he could see:
This was strange, very strange! Who could believe it? Statesmen and politicians might have said, "Was Joseph dreaming?" But no, Joseph was not dreaming. God's word was his wisdom. God's message in Genesis 15 had warned that Egypt would oppress Israel, but that God would befriend them and bring them back to Canaan. This word from God was everything to Joseph, everything to faith. Appearances counted for nothing. God had spoken it. Joseph believed it and remembered it. And so by faith Joseph saw Israel's suffering on the day of Israel's brightest promise and prosperity. He saw Egypt's hostility in this day of Egypt's friendship. He saw brick-kilns and taskmasters in the fair fields and sunny harvest of Goshen.
Joseph had rank, family and long life in Egypt. None of it changed what he was waiting for:
He lived there, ruled there, had a family there, and died there at a hundred and ten years old, fuller of honours than of years. Yet he feels that Egypt is not the land of God. He knows that God will redeem His people from it and bring them into Canaan. It was beautiful fruit in its season. No change of circumstances got in the way of the promises of God to the fathers. Joseph waited, as Abraham, Isaac and Jacob had waited. Earthly honours did not settle him down in Egypt.
- Fruitful — Joseph lived to see his great-grandchildren, and Machir's line became the foremost branch of its tribe.
- Adopted — those Egyptian-born children belonged to Israel only because Jacob had taken Joseph's sons as his own.
- Established — three generations born in Egypt made leaving look impossible to anyone who judged by sight.
- Undeceived — Joseph read the future from God's word, not from his comfort. He saw taskmasters while Goshen's harvest was still golden.
- Unsettled — a hundred and ten years of honour never made Egypt home. Joseph died still waiting for the land God promised.
And Joseph said to his brethren, I die; and God will certainly visit you, and bring you up out of this land, into the land that he swore unto Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.
Joseph dies at the top of Egypt, second only to Pharaoh. His last words look past Egypt to a land his family had left and to God's oath to their fathers.
The verse holds two facts side by side: a man is going, and God stays. One commentator shows how Joseph turns his brothers' eyes off himself and onto the One who does not die. The quote below keeps an older wording of the promise: "God will surely visit you."
So he speaks no more of man and man's small world, but of God — the living God, of the faithfulness of God, of the power of God, and the land of God. "I die," says Joseph. The life of the man who had saved other lives by a great deliverance is fast slipping away, but if Joseph dies, God lives; if Joseph departs, God remains. And into the hands of the living and unchanging God he commends his brothers. Though he may be taken from them, he can still say with full assurance of faith, "God will surely visit you."
They had Pharaoh's favour, the best land in Egypt, and one of their own running the country. Yet Joseph speaks of a God who must come and bring them out.
Strange this was, very strange! Who could believe it? … God's word was his wisdom. God's message in Genesis 15 had warned that Egypt would afflict Israel, but that God would befriend them and bring them back to Canaan. That word from God was everything to Joseph, everything to faith — appearances were nothing. Joseph believed it and remembered it. And so by faith Joseph saw Israel's affliction on the day of Israel's brightest promise and prosperity. He saw Egypt's hostility in this day of Egypt's friendship. He saw brick-kilns and slave-drivers in the fair fields and sunny harvest of Goshen.
The same writer turns this into a rule for every believer.
Circumstances never give faith its object. It is the word of God that does that. Never let circumstances and appearances take the eye of faith off its object.
"Bring you out of this land" assumes the people are somewhere they do not belong.
Joseph had been long in Egypt; he saw Ephraim's children of the third generation. They were thoroughly established in the land of Egypt. To nature nothing looked more unlikely than that a time would ever come when they would leave Egypt for a land they had never seen. But faith rises above things seen and refuses to reason the way nature does. Faith sees that though the people of God may stay for a time in the land of Egypt, it is not the land of rest that God has promised for His people. Being strangers in Egypt may form part of God's ways with His people, but it has no place in God's purpose for His people.
Joseph's rank in Egypt did not dull his hope.
No splendour in Egypt dimmed the light of promise to his faith. The man nearest to the throne of the world is a stranger. He looks for resurrection, and he expects Israel's restoration to the land according to the oath God swore to their fathers.
Joseph's certainty rests on three names: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob.
God will visit His people in grace to bring them out of Egypt. Just as surely, He will stretch out His hand in mighty delivering power to bring them into the land of His purpose … This good land, with all its blessing and glory, unrolled before the faith of the dying Joseph. God's own unconditional promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob makes it sure. Joseph is dying, but no shadows darken the hour of his passing.
Joseph backed his words with an oath about his bones, and Scripture records the outcome.
When Joseph lay dying, the natural eye saw little chance that his people would ever leave Egypt. But this dying saint rested on the sure word and promise of God … Years had passed away — nearly four hundred. Then God did visit His people. He remembered the oath, and the bones of the patriarch went with them when they left Egypt.
Another writer draws the pattern for anyone finishing a life of service:
As a faithful servant, he closes his course, testifying to the proper object of hope. While he lived, he served the people of God fully, according to their need. When he was dying, he led them to the only true prospect and hope of their souls — the inheritance of the promised land.
- Visit — Joseph's whole confidence rests on one promised action of God: He will come for His people. The servant dies; the living God remains.
- Vision — Faith saw slavery coming while Goshen was still sunny. God's word, not the current outlook, told Joseph what was ahead.
- Out — Egypt could be part of God's ways with His people, but never part of His purpose. Comfort there was temporary lodging, not home.
- In — God had already sworn the land to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. That oath fixed the destination, so no shadow fell on Joseph's deathbed.
- Kept — Four hundred years later God came for His people, kept His oath, and Joseph's bones travelled with them. A dying believer's last work is to point others to that hope.
And Joseph took an oath of the children of Israel, saying, God will certainly visit you; and ye shall carry up my bones hence.
Joseph's last recorded act is not a farewell but an oath. He makes his family swear to carry his body out of Egypt — a promise no one could keep for centuries.
Joseph's confidence no longer rests on man. It rests on the God who lives on after he dies.
So he speaks no longer of man and man's small world, but of God — the living God, His faithfulness, His power, and His land. "I die," says Joseph. The life of the man who had saved other lives by a great deliverance is fast slipping away. But if Joseph dies, God lives. If Joseph departs, God remains. And into the hands of the living and unchanging God he commends his brothers. Death may take him from them, yet he can say with the fullest assurance of faith, "God will surely visit you." The living God is their unfailing resource in the presence of the dying Joseph.
Jacob asked for burial with his fathers, and he got it. Joseph asks for something else.
"By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave directions concerning his bones." He firmly charged his sons not to bury him with his fathers, as Jacob asked and received. Instead they were to embalm him, as the pledge that they would leave Egypt in God's time for the land of promise. No splendour in Egypt dimmed the light of promise to his faith. The man nearest to the throne of the world is a stranger. He looks for resurrection, and he expects Israel's return to the land, just as God swore to their fathers.
Joseph's oath rests on God's promise, not on the odds.
Joseph had taken an oath of the children of Israel in dependence upon God. He believed, and so he spoke. He trusted God, so he could never be ashamed. To the natural eye, when Joseph was dying, there was little chance of his people leaving Egypt. But this dying saint rested on the sure word and promise of God. So with confidence he "gave directions concerning his bones." Nearly four hundred years passed. Then God did visit His people, Israel remembered the oath, and the bones of the patriarch went with them in their exodus.
The unburied body preached to every generation that carried it.
His bones are not to be left in Egypt. What a witness to the Israelites the coffin of Joseph must have been through the long centuries! It reminded them always that not even death can stop the living God from doing all He pleases and carrying out His purpose for His people. So, keeping the oath made to Joseph, when at last they leave Egypt, "Moses took the bones of Joseph with him" (Ex. 13:19). Those bones still witnessed to faith in God through the forty years in the wilderness. And when at last they reach the land of promise, they bury his body in the piece of land that Jacob bought from the sons of Hamor (Joshua 24:32). There he sleeps in the dust of the earth until he awakes to everlasting life and stands in his lot at the end of days.
Care for a dead body here is a confession about the future.
The patriarchs of the Jewish family all put special value on their dead bodies. They were laid up with great care at Machpelah. That care and zeal was their confession of a sure and certain hope of resurrection. But they connected resurrection with the land of Canaan. And so Jacob and Joseph, who died in Egypt, arranged for their bones to be carried over and laid in Canaan. This tells us that their hope of resurrection was one with their hope of finally possessing the promised land.
Genesis ends with no grave for Joseph. One writer turns that open ending toward our own walk.
Now Joseph himself departs; but we have not lost him: here is an exception to everything else we have seen. He is not to be buried. Why? In this book there is no thought of burial at all. By faith he sees Israel's future departure from Egypt. When God visits them and they set out as pilgrims, they are to carry his bones with them on their pilgrimage. He is no longer dead, but living. Even so, are we not also told to be "always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies"?
- Visit. Joseph dies; God does not. "God will surely visit you" hands his brothers over to the living God as their one unfailing resource.
- Pledge. He refuses burial with his fathers. He asks them to embalm him instead, so his body stands as a pledge that Israel will leave Egypt in God's time.
- Witness. The coffin travelled with Israel for centuries. It kept reminding them that death cannot stop God from carrying out His purpose.
- Hope. He wanted his bones in Canaan. That was his confession of resurrection hope, tied to the land God promised.
- Kept. Nearly four hundred years later, Moses took the bones with him. Israel buried them in the land Jacob had bought. A faithful God honoured the oath of a dying man.
And Joseph died, a hundred and ten years old; and they embalmed him; and he was put in a coffin in Egypt.
Genesis opens in a garden and closes with a coffin in Egypt. Yet the last verse is not only an ending: Joseph was embalmed instead of buried, because he had made his family swear to carry his bones out.
Look at where the book ends.
One cannot close the book of Genesis without being struck by the last four words. It opens with a couple created in innocence and placed in a garden of delights. It closes with a coffin in Egypt, and in that coffin a dead man, though he was an eminent saint. Sin had come in, and death by sin.
Joseph's rank makes the closing line sharper, not softer.
The pleasures of this world are only for a season, and all the treasures of Egypt end in a grave. Joseph found this in an earlier day, for he had occupied a great place in Egypt. Next to the king he had wielded a power that no mortal man before or since had ever wielded in this world. Still, it all ended in a coffin. The last words of the Book of Genesis are these: "Joseph died … and he was put in a coffin in Egypt." So much for Egypt's pleasures and Egypt's treasures. All the glory of this world at last sinks down to a coffin. Pharaoh's mighty empire contracts to a narrow grave.
Egypt had its own way of preparing the dead.
Joseph's coffin was made in Egypt for an embalmed body, so it probably looked like the ancient mummy cases. These were ornamental cases, larger than European coffins.
Joseph asked for something his father had not.
He also charged his sons not to bury him with his fathers, as Jacob had asked and received. They were to embalm him instead, as the pledge that they would leave Egypt in God's time for the land of promise. No splendour in Egypt dimmed the light of promise to his faith. He stood nearest to the throne of the world, yet he is a stranger. He looks for resurrection, and he expects God to bring Israel back to the land, as He swore to their fathers.
The coffin stayed above ground, and it kept speaking.
So in the power of faith's vision of the living God he gives directions concerning his bones. They are not to be left in Egypt. What a witness to the Israelites the coffin of Joseph must have been through the long centuries! It reminded them always that not even death itself can stop the living God from doing all He pleases, and carrying out His purpose for His people. So, in keeping with the oath made to Joseph, when at last they leave the land of Egypt, "Moses took the bones of Joseph with him" (Ex. 13:19). The coffin still witnessed to faith in God through the forty years of wilderness journeys. And when at last they reach the land of promise, his body is buried in "the piece of land that Jacob bought from the sons of Hamor" (Joshua 24:32). There he sleeps in the dust of the earth until he awakes to everlasting life and stands in his lot at the end of days.
At the time nothing made this look likely.
To the natural eye there was little likelihood, when Joseph was dying, that his people would ever leave Egypt. But this dying saint rested on the sure word and promise of God. So with confidence he "gave directions concerning his bones." Years passed away — nearly four hundred. Then God did visit His people, and they remembered the oath, so the bones of the patriarch went with them in their exodus.
Joseph's hope reached beyond his own lifetime.
No doubt he looked further ahead still. He wanted his body to be in the land of Israel, looking to the day of resurrection, and to the day when God would carry out His promises to Abraham in full. At that time the truth that resurrection happens at the coming of the Lord for His saints was not known. Christ had not yet come in flesh. But there is no doubt that Joseph believed in the God of resurrection, and in the coming of the promised Messiah.
Genesis stops here; God's revelation does not.
This deeply interesting book of Genesis is the book of life and of origins. It ends in great contrast to its beginning — "in a coffin in Egypt." For it is only the beginning of God's revelation. How much more wonderful and beautiful is the last word from God in the book of Revelation: "The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen."
- Coffin — Genesis begins in a garden and ends in a box. Sin brought death, and even the world's highest place ends in a narrow grave.
- Command — Joseph chose embalming instead of burial. It was his pledge that Israel would one day leave Egypt for the promised land.
- Carried — the unburied coffin stood as a witness that death cannot stop God's purpose. Moses carried the bones out at the exodus.
- Canaan — nearly four hundred years later Israel kept the oath. They buried Joseph in the land Jacob had bought, where he sleeps until he rises.
- Coming — faith looks past the coffin to the God of resurrection. Genesis ends in shadow; the Bible ends with grace.