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.