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The Story Begins
ОглавлениеCall, Creation, and Promise
“ . . . and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”
—Gen 12:3c
Flames threw eerie shapes onto the blue-grey sky, as the women cleaned pots and utensils and the children gathered eagerly around the camp’s main fire. Behind them, the men and older boys were securing the tents, flocks, and herds. Every night watch had been assigned, and each boy knew how vital it was to the voyaging clan that their animals be protected from wild predators. A few stars had begun to twinkle as the young ones settled in. Toddlers sat on laps of older siblings, and a few white-haired women quietly patrolled the circle. Muffled giggles, prankish glances, and wayward elbows quickly ceased, however, as the gathered audience sensed the approach of the one for whom they were waiting.
Roundish in appearance, bent over, with an untamed mane of receding hair matched only by a flowing beard stretching almost to an undefined waistline, one gnarled hand tightly grasping a slightly bowed but sturdy stick, it was as though a magnetic field followed the doddering figure into the center of the circle, not too close to the fire itself. Suddenly still and silent, the children were holding their breath. The figure by the fire now came alive, eyes wide open, head turning from one side of the gathered circle to another, growing in their mind’s eyes to larger than life itself. Then, in a voice that sounded like heaven’s, he spoke deliberately:
“A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, . . . ” (Deut 26:5).
By the time that the old man had finished speaking, the youngest ones were asleep in someone’s arms, and discreet yawns could be detected around the circle. Women signaled to the children from their respective tents, and the spellbound assembly dispersed across the camp almost without a sound. If you had been there, you would have seen how their faces gave off a serene glow. Once again, they had heard from whence they came. Once again, they were reminded who they were—and whose.
“Tell Us a Story”
It is not difficult to imagine such a scene, is it? In days of old, long before social media or television, or radio, or telegrams, or newspapers, or pamphlets, or books, or even hand-printed scrolls—in those days, long ago, people learned many things through storytelling. As I have studied the Bible across many years, I have come to appreciate the power of story. I have realized that, even with all of the academic reading that I have done, what sticks with me most is a good story. Now, I understand more clearly how the medium of storytelling weaves the Bible together—how the strength of what we might sometimes think of as “the message” of the Bible depends on narrative. Now, I can imagine Hebrew nomads transmitting to their children a sense of their identity and purpose by telling a story, their Story—which eventually became The One Great Story.
The medium of storytelling weaves the Bible together.
In many respects, this Story begins not with accounts of the creation of the world, but with a childless couple who might have thought that when they had settled down in a place named Haran, their travels were over (Gen 11:30–32). The man’s father, Terah, had taken the couple—Abram and Sarai—and a few other members of his family with him, from their hometown of Ur. Apparently the plan was to put down roots elsewhere but, instead, they stayed in Haran. Then Terah died.
Sometimes we want to ask the Bible questions that it simply does not answer—the way that a news reporter digs for more details about a breaking story. We are tempted to try to fill in what seem to us to be gaps in the story line, gaps that would help to satisfy our curiosity about what is going on. There are many places in the Bible where we could ask questions like these, and the transition from Terah’s death to what happens next is one of those places. Did Abram and Sarai enjoy living in Haran? They seem to have prospered during the time there (Gen 12:5, 13:2). Did they feel welcome in a place that was not home? Were they bound by custom to remain with Terah as long as he was alive?
When we study biblical stories, it is important to be careful about “reading into” the text something that is not there. Much of the time, the Bible does not provide comment on the inner thoughts and feelings of characters as they decide and act. It was enough, to those responsible for the story as it appears in the text, merely to move to the next episode of Abram’s and Sarai’s life. Terah died in their adopted town of Haran, and—before you know it—God comes into the picture.
“Go,” the LORD said to Abram and Sarai. And so, The One Great Story begins—with a call from God to a childless couple who still must have been grieving their patriarch’s death. It was no small thing, this call from God. The two of them were to leave just about everything familiar and everyone they knew, to venture to a place as yet unknown. This call came with a big carrot dangling on a stick, too: the LORD said that the two of them would give birth to a people of distinguished repute. Not only this, but their pledged high regard would do something good for other peoples, too: “ . . . and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen 12:3c).
God had high hopes for Abram and Sarai. And, again, without any fanfare or stream-of-consciousness commentary, the story continues. They go, Abram and Sarai, taking Lot, the nephew, their servants (slaves?), and “all the possessions that they had gathered” (Gen 12:5b). The entourage was on its way.
This divinely-selected couple encountered many adventures and moments of trial during the years of their journey. You might remember that the two of them never did make it to the land that God promised. That arrival comes many generations later in The Story. On their part of this long sojourn, Abram and Sarai covered a lot of territory. Based on archeological evidence, the move itself from Ur to Haran would have been no small trip. The latter was a few hundred miles north, up the Euphrates River from Ur. Leaving Haran for Canaan (Gen 12:5de) meant another long trip, this time in a southwesterly direction. Once they arrived, Abram received a promise from the LORD that this land would be given to Abram’s descendants (Gen 12:7; compare Gen 13:14–18). Abram then marked the spot with “an altar.” This act indicates that Abram was trusting the LORD and expressing his devotion to this one god, and not to other deities. As we will see many times throughout This Story, Abram and Sarai’s descendants often waffled over their own ultimate trust and devotion.
Abram and Sarai’s descendants often waffled over their own ultimate trust and devotion.
Many locations appear as stopping points for this entourage, both regions and cities: Canaan, Bethel, Egypt, the Negeb, Mamre, Hebron, Sodom, Gomorrah, Kadesh, Gerar, the cave of Machpelah (where both Abram and Sarai would be buried), and others. These locations often figure later, in subsequent episodes with the couple’s descendants. In our own understandable ignorance of their geography and history, today we probably find it easier just to follow the human interactions themselves, between Abram, Sarai, and others who came into this picture. At the heart of these interactions rested the question of succession and inheritance: who would carry this divine promise once the old couple died? They had no children.
Part of what makes the Abraham/Sarah (God later changed their names) episodes of The One Great Story so intriguing is the couple’s way of handling their barren condition. Sarai was worried that she would not have a child, so she offered Abram her young slave, Hagar, as a second wife. Hagar indeed bore Abraham a son, who was named Ishmael. Yet it becomes clear that Ishmael would not be heir to the divine promise, although Hagar received assurance through a divine messenger that her son would be blessed anyway (Gen 16).
In the meantime, God came to Abram and reinforced the original promise, by making a covenant with him (Gen 15 and 17). This covenant assured the couple a very large number of descendants and their own land, Canaan, where they had been living, but as foreigners. For Abraham’s part, he was to circumcise all males as “a sign of the covenant between me and you” (Gen 17:11b). In one version of this covenant episode, the story comments that Abram trusted in the LORD and the LORD’s promise, which God then took “as righteousness” (Gen 15:6) for Abraham. In later chapters, we will see how this one sentence—like a comment that an early storyteller would have interjected into the account—became a key element of The Story’s theological interpretation.
Pause to Reflect When the LORD made a covenant with Abram, the text says that he “believed the LORD” (Gen 15:6). Three other English versions translate the verb in this clause as “put his faith in” (Revised English Bible; New American Bible; New Jerusalem Bible). In your mind, what are the distinctions between the concepts of “believing in,” “trusting in,” and “putting faith in?”
Still, how could this covenant be fulfilled without a male heir? One hot day, the couple was visited by three guests, for whom Abraham displayed gracious hospitality by providing them rest and a meal. The visitors then delivered a promise that Sarah would bear a son in the following year. Sarah laughed as she heard the promise, listening as she was, outside of the tent flap. The subsequent interchanges between God and Abraham—and then God with Sarah—reveal a very human response to an unlikely prediction. Sarah denied laughing, but God didn’t let her off the hook! Yet it was God’s remarks to Abraham that adds to the central theme of The One Great Story: “Is anything too wonderful for the LORD?” (Gen 18:14a). As with the comment just noted above, about Abram’s trust of God for the covenant, this rhetorical question in the episode of Sarah’s laughter becomes a theological linchpin for later episodes of The Story. It will echo often.
As the LORD promised, Sarah bore a son in due season (Gen 21:1–7), and Sarah marked the occasion with a statement about laughter—her own and that of “everyone who hears” (Gen 21:6b). Now Abraham’s other son, Ishmael, and his mother, the Egyptian slave Hagar, were sent out of the camp; but God promised to Abraham that they would be okay and that the boy would establish a people as well, “because he is your offspring” (Gen 21:13c).
A strange twist comes into The Story at this point: God’s command that Abraham sacrifice his only son, Isaac (Gen 22:1–19). Modern sensibilities leave many readers today wondering about the kind of God being represented in this episode, but the incident emphasizes something else instead. As Abraham was moments away from slaughtering Isaac, God stopped him and provided a ram for sacrifice instead. The death of Isaac would have eliminated Abraham’s and Sarah’s successor to the promise, the offspring who already had been promised for that purpose. Abraham’s actions demonstrated complete trust in the LORD, despite the shocking nature of the divine request. His trust, flying in the face of a perplexing and even cruel command, led to a strengthened commitment by God to the promise. Isaac lived, and that promise still stood a chance.
Years of travel, temporary residence, international interactions, origins of new peoples, and divine punishment fill the story of Abraham and Sarah. When Sarah died, Abraham negotiated with the Hittites of Canaan for a burial site (Gen 23). Concern for an appropriate line of succession through Isaac led Abraham to arrange, through one of his servants, a marriage for Isaac with one of his own clan. The episode that tells of finding Rebekah carrying a water jar at a well is full of what must be ancient near Eastern customs and good old-fashioned charm (Gen 24). Not only does Isaac marry Rebekah but “he loved her” (Gen 24:67c). Even though Abraham himself married again and fathered several more children, his lineage, his property, and the divine promise, went with Isaac (Gen 25:5). Then Abraham died, “in a good old age, an old man and full of years” (Gen 25:8), and both Isaac and Ishmael oversaw his burial with Sarah. The first major chapter of The One Great Story comes to a close.
Abraham’s lineage, his property, and the divine vow, did not go to his firstborn—Ishmael—but to the son of promise, Isaac.
The Backstory: Creation, Fall, and All That Stuff
You probably noticed that the telling of Abraham and Sarah’s chapter in The Story is not where the Bible actually begins. Most of us have heard something about the creation accounts at the very beginning of the Book of Genesis. In the first chapter, God creates—in six days from “a formless void” (Gen 1:2a)—first light, then separation of waters, then dry land with vegetation, then lights separating day from night, then creatures in water and birds, then creatures on land, then humans. Chapter 2 provides some variation to the account: God makes a man (adam or “earthy”), situating him in the garden to cultivate it; then God makes birds and land creatures, to which the “adam” gave names; then God realized none of these animals would make a fitting companion for the “adam,” so one of his ribs was fashioned into a woman. Everything now was as it should be.
In one of the earliest biblical episodes, both divine judgment and divine mercy appear together. This happens over and over again in the Bible.
Except that something went wrong—very wrong. Surely one of the most well-known of biblical stories—even if it is often misunderstood—is the one that happens next, the one often referred to as “the temptation.” A wily creature is introduced, the serpent, who talked the woman into believing that it was okay to eat fruit from trees in the garden—even though God had said not to do so, or they would suffer terminal consequences (Gen 2:17). This lapse of judgment by the woman and the man led to severe changes in the terms of their circumstances in the world. Everyone would have a hard life from now on—man, woman, and especially the serpent, who received a curse from God (Gen 3:13–19). For centuries, Christian theology has called this change of circumstances “the Fall,” since it represents how the divine purpose had been thwarted by human disobedience. Things never would be the same again.
Pause to Reflect An old joke about the episode of “the Fall” (Gen 3) says that Adam blamed Eve, Eve blamed the serpent, and the serpent didn’t have a leg to stand on! Based on your experience and observations about life, what do you think this episode was intended to say about human responsibility and accountability?
But life would go on anyway, although it was plagued soon enough by strife and murder. We also remember hearing something about Cain and Abel, Eve and Adam’s sons. Cain killed Abel because Abel’s offering to God was accepted, but his was not (Gen 4:2–8). The famous question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” comes from this episode. Yet, even though Cain was driven away, God promised to protect him (Gen 4:15). Thus, judgment and mercy appear together, more than once, in the earliest of biblical episodes. The Bible also demonstrates, early in its first book, an interest in connecting dots between persons and generations. A genealogy in chapter 5 leads from Adam to a character who then dominates the following five chapters, Noah.
Again, we are dealing with an episode from The Story that is fairly well-known, at least in some of its main elements. Things on earth were not going as the LORD had intended. The story says that “the wickedness of humankind was great” and that humans cared only about evil things (Gen 6:5). (This won’t be the last time we hear about this issue before The Story is over!) So God decided that it was time to end the whole business, by eliminating all people, all animals, and all birds. There was only one glimmer of hope in the whole situation, which was this fellow Noah. Noah was “a righteous man, blameless in his generation; Noah walked with God” (Gen 6:9). He must have stood out like a sore thumb! So, as many of us remember, God called on Noah to prepare for a devastating flood by constructing a water-worthy vessel that would carry Noah’s family and pairs of all creatures safely.
We also remember something about rain falling in torrents, the ark floating as the waters rose to cover even mountaintops, the report of complete destruction, and months of subsiding waters (Gen 7:6–24). Once Noah and his family were able to disembark, God commanded them to unload the ark so that the creatures could repopulate the earth (Gen 8:13–19). Noah then constructed an altar and worshipped the LORD, who decided never to do that again. God blessed Noah’s family, as when the first humans were created (Gen 9:1; compare 1:22, 28). God set up a covenant with Noah and his family, using the rainbow as a sign of protection for all creatures on earth (Gen 9:8–17). This covenant brought an upbeat conclusion to an otherwise harsh episode: the Creator has not given up on the human enterprise.
The rainbow is a sign that the Creator has not given up on the human enterprise.
Life started over again. Genesis lists Noah’s three sons—Shem, Ham, and Japheth—and their progeny for a couple of generations each. This list also shows interest in details such as who ended up where and how certain peoples and places became settled—“in their lands, with their own languages, by their family, in their nations (Gen 10:5c; compare 10:20, 31–32).” Chapter 10 seems, in part, to set up the circumstances for the next episode, about the tower of Babel (Gen 11:1–9). Like the other episodes that precede it, the Babel incident appears designed to explain something significant and universal about the general human condition, framed in the setting of the prehistoric Near East. Such is the function and resounding power of the literary form known as “myth,” once we understand it in this way.
In this legendary episode within The One Great Story, all people spoke one language (but compare the verses noted above in Gen 10) and had traveled to a location that looked good to them. They decided to build a city there, including a tower that would go far up into the sky—actually, “the heavens,” where ancient cultures often imagined the gods to dwell. God, the LORD, did not like that idea, commenting (perhaps to the heavenly council) “this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing . . . will now be impossible for them (Gen 11:6cd).” So God intervened, by “going down” and strewing the people every which way (“over the face of all the earth” [Gen 11:8]), which meant the end to their construction project. Hence, the people’s effort to go up to heaven (“Come, let us build ourselves . . . a tower with its top in the heavens” [Gen 11:4]) becomes set in contrast with God’s action in response (“Come, let us go down, . . . ” [Gen 11:7]).
The name “Babel”—“Gate of God”—is used here as a play on the Hebrew verb balal, which means “to confuse.” This episode, coming as it does following the great flood and repopulation of the earth, explains in an epic way how human beings kept trying things that went beyond God’s intentions for them. Peoples and nations are flung across the world, far from each other, unable to communicate or understand each other. The divine purpose and hope waits again to be realized.
The Babel story explains in an epic way how human beings pursue things that are beyond God’s intentions for them.
The Story continues: yet another genealogy completes the chapter, filling in the names of several of Shem’s descendants, all the way to a fellow named Terah, who lived in a Mesopotamian city called Ur. Terah had three sons, one of whom died young. Terah then moved from Ur with one of his surviving sons to another city, known as Haran. Then Terah died there in Haran, and Genesis says nothing else about it. What happened to his family? Ahh! We have heard their story already—that of Abram/Abraham and Sarai/Sarah.
Looking at the sequence of these mythical episodes early in Genesis, we can see how they are linked within this composite narrative. God, Creator of all that exists, had something wonderful in mind for Creation, but the humans went astray early on and brought pain and hardship on themselves. It got to a point at which God decided to get rid of the whole mess. And yet, God didn’t want to give up on one character who still was devoted, so God spared that character, Noah, and his family, so that the Great Idea for Creation could stand another chance of working. After the Flood, God made a covenant with Noah and marked it with the rainbow in the sky. Sadly, though, things started getting out of hand again, many generations later. The humans again sought to become more than they were meant to be, by building a tower that would reach to the entrance of divine abode. God was not pleased with their intent and therefore dispersed them hither and yon. As the human generations continued, one line produced a man in whom God apparently had high hopes. His name was Abram, and his wife was Sarai.
Twins! Oy, What Trouble!
The second major chapter of The One Great Story continues through Abraham and Sarah’s “only son,” Isaac. He married Rebekah after Sarah’s death, and Rebekah became pregnant after Isaac prayed about her being “barren” (Gen 25:21). Rebekah hardly could have imagined what would transpire! She gave birth to twin boys, the second one with his hand on the first one’s heel as they were born (Gen 25:25–26). What a great metaphor for the brothers’ lives! They contended with each other for years, while their parents played favorites between them. Esau, the eldest, was a hunter and his father’s favorite. Jacob, the one who “takes by the heel,” was more of his momma’s boy.
Because, in those days, inheritance went from the father to the eldest son, the first twin born received the favored birthright. In the case of Jacob and Esau, however, the younger twin outwitted his outdoorsy brother, tricking him out of that birthright (Gen 25:29–34). In the meantime, Isaac became wealthy through agricultural pursuits, although he moved around to some extent. He expressed his devotion to the LORD, whose favor for Isaac was acknowledged even by the king of the Philistines (Gen 26, esp. vss. 23–31). We will hear more about rivalry with the Philistines in later chapters of The Story.
Pause to Reflect As some of the episodes in Genesis suggest, marriages in that time and place often were arranged for the benefit of the families involved. Given this context, what do you think is the significance to The Story that Isaac is reported to have “loved” Rebekah (Gen 24:67c)?
Speaking of rivalry, things got worse between Isaac’s twin sons. Their father had become old and could not see well anymore. He asked Esau to make him a tasty meal from game that he would kill, after which Esau would receive Isaac’s blessing. That blessing would overturn Jacob’s tricking Esau out of his birthright. Rebekah overheard Isaac and quickly arranged with Jacob to prepare his own meal for him, one that he could take into his father by pretending to be Esau. She rigged up a “costume” of Esau’s clothing and lambskin and dressed Jacob in them. When Jacob went into his father with the meal and the costume, he fooled his father into granting him the blessing. Esau returned with his meal just moments after Jacob left their father’s tent. Isaac and Esau both were very upset when they figured out the deception; however, in those days, a blessing granted could not be revoked. Isaac could not take back his blessing. Esau wept and vowed to kill his brother after their father had died (Gen 27:1–41).
Jacob tricked their father Isaac and received the blessing meant for his brother Esau.
This episode is told in quite dramatic detail and captures well the cunning and emotion among its four main characters. As a result, Jacob left their home—at his mother’s urging—to live for a time with her brother (Gen 27:42–45). Jacob then dominates the story line for several chapters. He lived for a time as a vagabond, receiving assurance from the LORD that the promise given to Abraham surely would be his (Gen 28:10–22). Deceit followed Jacob, however; his uncle tricked him into marrying the older daughter (Leah) before being able to marry the one whom Jacob wanted, Rachel (Gen 29). Uncle Laban also cheated Jacob on wages for taking care of flocks of sheep (Gen 31:7). In spite of these circumstances, Jacob managed to trick Laban back in the matter of breeding sheep (Gen 30:25–43) and, as a result, became quite wealthy himself.
An angel of the LORD told Jacob in a dream to return to his homeland, so Jacob gathered up his family and all his property and left Laban, without telling him. When Laban finally heard of their departure, he took off after Jacob. Catching up to him, Laban chastised his son-in-law for leaving secretly without a proper farewell. He also asked for the return of the figurines of his gods (“the household gods” [31:35c]). Rachel was sitting on a camel’s saddle, hiding them, so they were not discovered. After Jacob replied, by dumping his years of frustration about Laban in the father-in-law’s lap, the two tricksters agreed to a deal. “The LORD watch between you and me, when we are absent one from the other (Gen 31:49),” known in many circles as the “Mizpah benediction,” actually feels more like a mutual threat: neither man can depend on the other one, so God is invoked to make sure they both toe the line!
Pause to Reflect Have you ever recited the “Mizpah benediction” or heard it used? How does its place in the episode between Jacob and his father-in-law, Laban, (Gen 31:43–50) change your understanding of the saying’s original purpose?
Laban returned home, but Jacob’s challenges were not over yet. He arranged to meet his estranged brother, Esau, and another dramatic episode develops. After praying to the LORD for deliverance, Jacob made careful plans, sending a huge gift of animals ahead of him to Esau (Gen 32:9–21). Now traveling alone (he sent his wives and children out of harm’s way), Jacob spent the night in a wrestling match with a figure who is identified as “a man” but who seems at the end of the exchange to be something quite different. Some of what happens here is hard to interpret: the match appeared to be a stalemate, so the man injured Jacob’s hip; Jacob wouldn’t let go of the man without a blessing, which he received in the form of a new name—Israel (“the one who strives with God”); and the “man” would not tell Jacob his name. As often occurs in Old Testament stories, the main character—here, Jacob—names a location on the basis of a significant, often religious, event that took place there (Gen 32:30). The name Peniel means “face of God,” so now the audience realizes that the “man” was a divine figure from the LORD.
It was morning, and Esau was on his way. Reunited with his family, Jacob approached his brother, bowing several times. Esau ran up to his brother, hugged and kissed him, and they wept together. The rest of their meeting was quite conciliatory, and they parted that day on good terms (Gen 33). With God’s bidding, Jacob traveled back to Bethel, where the LORD had met him in a dream before his marriages and affirmed the promise with him (Gen 28:10–22). He traveled again, and Rachel died en route, giving birth to Jacob’s twelfth and final son, Benjamin (Gen 35:16–20). Jacob finally made it back to Isaac, before the patriarch died. Once he had passed on, the twin brothers gave Isaac a proper burial (Gen 35:27–29).
Another major chapter closes. Even though Esau and his descendants and clans are listed (Gen 36), the attention shifts back again to Jacob’s family. In spite of all the years of trickery within this extended family—all the calculating and questionable behavior that we would not want our children to emulate!—The Story maintains its underlying movement. God, the Creator of all, continues to hold a claim on the life and fortunes of this particular lineage. God—who is called “the LORD” in perhaps the oldest tradition that constitutes the Book of Genesis—continues to initiate contact with, and provide assurance and guidance to, a key figure in every generation of this clan. They are not ideal role models, but they are chosen.
After Isaac’s death, the central character in the upcoming chapter of The Story is not so much Jacob, but his son Joseph. The fellow first appears as an indulged younger child who gets on his older brother’s nerves. Yet, it is Joseph’s faith and wit that help him to survive and, in the long run, to save his clan. Hence, the grand promise made to Abraham and Sarah will be rescued, once more.
Joseph’s faith and wit help him survive and then save his family.
The Man Who Would Be Pharaoh
He seems to have been a dreamer, this Joseph lad. All of Jacob’s other sons were older, except for Benjamin, the only other son from Jacob’s favorite wife, Rachel. The old man seemed to play favorites with her boys, especially with Joseph, who received a lavish gift from their father. It was a special garment of some kind, one that none of the other brothers possessed. This was not, however, the only reason that Joseph was not popular with them. He also told his brothers about two dreams of his—dreams suggesting that he, Joseph, would rise in authority and stature above them. Even Jacob was a bit perturbed in hearing about the second of the two dreams (Gen 37:3–11).
Joseph’s brothers had had enough. They found a way to get rid of him, first by throwing him into a deep pit out in the hinterlands, then by selling him to some traders, who carried him with them to Egypt. Taking the fancy robe, the brothers covered it with goat’s blood and took it to their father, saying that Joseph was killed by a wild animal. Jacob sorely grieved the news, but Joseph actually was very much alive, having been sold to none other than the captain of the Egyptian Pharaoh’s guard (Gen 37:12–36).
Joseph’s situation improved greatly—at least, for a time. Rather than ending up outside in a barn or field, Joseph must have impressed captain Potiphar with his skills. More to the point, the storyteller in Genesis emphasizes that “His master saw that the LORD was with him, and that the LORD caused all that he did to prosper in his hands” (Gen 39:3). Joseph thus was put in charge of the captain’s house, which benefited greatly from the young man’s acumen. Again, the storyteller is eager for the audience to see what is taking place from a particular vantage point: Potiphar’s profit by Joseph’s hand was “for Joseph’s sake,” not the captain’s (Gen 39:5bc).
Trouble came calling, however. Potiphar’s wife took a shining to the handsome young overseer and invited him to her bed. Joseph refused, out of his faith in God and loyalty to his boss, her husband. After days of tempting him, Potiphar’s wife grabbed his shirt one day when they were alone and implored him to go to bed with her. Joseph ran out of the house, but the shirt stayed in her hand. She kept the shirt, fabricating a story that set up Joseph as the offending party. When she told her husband, Potiphar was enraged and threw Joseph in prison (Gen 39:7–20).
Pause to Reflect In your own experience, what do you know of deep ill will and deception? Who was involved, and what took place? How did it affect you? What has it been like for you to come to terms with that experience?
This drastic turn of events could have been the end of the line for Joseph; he could have starved to death or contracted a deadly disease. But the storyteller continues to emphasize the LORD’s favor with Joseph—so that he impressed the head jailer, who put Joseph in charge of all the other prisoners (Gen 39:21–23). As time went by, two of Pharaoh’s top employees got on the king’s bad side and ended up in prison with Joseph. Both of these men—the chief cupbearer and the chief baker—had dreams that they wanted to understand: in antiquity, dreams were thought to carry messages of a person’s fate or destiny. Joseph interpreted their dreams, attributing the understanding to God. The cupbearer’s dream was favorable, the baker’s dream unfavorable. Soon, both interpretations came to pass, but the cupbearer forgot to credit Joseph before the Pharaoh (Gen 40).
The storyteller continues to emphasize Joseph’s favor with the LORD.
Two years later, Joseph still in prison, Pharaoh himself had a couple of troubling dreams one night. His usual entourage of wizards and wise ones were at a loss to explain them. Then the cupbearer remembered Joseph, so the Pharaoh brought him from the dungeon, and he was allowed to clean up and dress. When Joseph heard Pharaoh recount the two dreams, the young Hebrew explained that Egypt had seven years to prepare for a major famine, itself to last seven years. Joseph gave credit where it was properly due: “God has shown to Pharaoh what [God] is about to do” (Gen 41:28b). Joseph urged the Pharaoh to appoint competent people to make proper arrangements, so Pharaoh looked at his servants and appointed Joseph! The monarch said to them, “Can we find anyone else like this—one in whom is the spirit of God?” (Gen 41:38).
This appointment was no minor decision or position. Pharaoh took off his own signet ring and placed it on Joseph’s hand; he dressed him up in fancy clothing and gave him a gold necklace; Joseph rode in a big chariot, and the people shouted accolades (Gen 41:41–45). Now, the man who had been his father’s pet child, who was sold away by his brothers, who managed a military officer’s household, and survived in a dungeon caring for other prisoners, ascends to the second-highest rank of authority in the most powerful nation of the time. It is clear in the story that the listener is to see, not only the hand of God at work, but also Joseph’s trust in God—and even the mighty Pharaoh’s acknowledgement: “Since God has shown you all this, there is no one so discerning and wise as you” (Gen 41:39).
A Blast from His Past
Joseph proceeded with the plan of storing food all across Egypt. As he foresaw, the seven years of plenty ended, and a famine gripped the land, not only in Egypt, but it “became severe throughout the world” (Gen 41:57b). Word got out that Egypt had grain to sell, so “all the world” traveled to Egypt to buy some from Joseph. Even Joseph’s father, Jacob, heard the word and sent his ten oldest sons to Egypt to buy grain (Gen 42:1–5). Once more, The Story becomes filled with intrigue and deception.
Once more, The Story becomes filled with intrigue and deception.
When the brothers arrived, they had to meet with Joseph in order to make the transaction. Recognizing them (although they did not recognize him), Joseph acted as though they were strangers. He accused them of spying on Egypt and threw them in prison. Then he made a deal with them: leave one brother in Egypt, take your purchased grain home, and bring back your youngest brother (Benjamin). The brothers consented, and then began fussing with each other about this turn of events being retribution for what they did to Joseph—although they had no idea that it was with Joseph with whom they had just made this deal, and that he could understand everything they were saying (Gen 42:6–23)!
This segment of The Story—about Joseph, Egypt, and the eventual rescue of Jacob’s clan—is the longest section in the Book of Genesis, comprising eleven or so chapters in a fifty-chapter book. It is filled with elaborate details, an intricate story line, dramatic dialogue, emotional outbursts, and surprising turns of events. On their return to drop off the grain and retrieve Benjamin, the brothers discovered that their money was back in their sacks and became terrified. Once home, they told their father all that had transpired in Egypt and the request by “the lord of the land”; but Jacob still grieved for Joseph and would not let Benjamin go, even though Simeon was imprisoned in Egypt (Gen 42:24–38).
The Joseph episode is filled with elaborate details, an intricate story line, dramatic dialogue, emotional outbursts, and surprising turns of events.
Yet the famine worsened, and Jacob told the brothers to return for more food. After a long conversation with them, Jacob agreed that Benjamin would accompany his brothers, along with extra money and gifts. All of the remaining brothers traveled again to Egypt, and this time Joseph—still incognito—arranged a small banquet with them. He released Simeon, asked about the family, and met Benjamin; the sight of his only younger brother moved Joseph so deeply that he left the room for a time and wept in private. During the meal, the brothers were stunned to see food from Joseph’s table brought to theirs (Gen 43).
At this point, it looks like this episode with Joseph and his brothers would be drawing to a warm outcome. Not so! Joseph sent the brothers back on their way but secretly planted an expensive religious object in Benjamin’s bag. Then Joseph sent his steward after the brothers, accusing them of theft. They denied the act, but the object—a silver cup—turned up in Benjamin’s sack, for sure. On returning to Joseph’s house, Judah pleaded their case, offering to become Joseph’s slave if Benjamin were allowed to return home to Jacob (Gen 44).
Finally, the pressure overcame Joseph. He sent all of his Egyptian assistants out of the room and then began weeping, “so loudly that . . . the household of Pharaoh heard it” (Gen 45:2). He told his brothers who he actually was and asked about their father. Incredulous, the brothers stood dumb, so Joseph repeated himself and assured them that their action against him so many years earlier was used by God: “for God sent me before you to preserve life” (Gen 45:5c). Joseph urged them to return for the rest of the family, whom he would settle in Goshen, since the famine would last for five more years. Once the explanations were over, the brothers hugged Joseph, wept heartily, and talked together (Gen 45:1–15).
Pharaoh heard of this revelation and gave Joseph’s brothers a royal escort for their return. Of course, Jacob was astounded when he heard the story that his sons recounted about Joseph, the “ruler over all the land of Egypt” (Gen 45:26b). So the old man and all of his family journeyed to Egypt to live. At night, Jacob had visions of reassurance from God that the trip to Egypt would turn out for good (Gen 46:2–4). Father and son wept together freely when they met in Goshen. Jacob’s family settled with their flocks and herds, and Joseph supported them with food. As time went by, the clan grew in number and thrived there (Gen 46:5—47:12).
Jacob had visions of reassurance from God that the trip to Egypt would turn out for good.
Joseph had wanted to see his father Jacob before the old man died, and his wish had come to pass. As Jacob’s death drew near, the patriarch granted many blessings—first, to Joseph, through his sons Manasseh and Ephraim (Gen 48:8–22) and then to all his sons (Gen 49:1–28). His final request was to be buried in the cave near Mamre with Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Leah. Then Jacob died (Gen 49:29–33). Joseph wept over Jacob and then instructed the Egyptian doctors to embalm Jacob according to Egyptian custom. Pharaoh honored Joseph’s request to take Jacob’s body back to Canaan, to Mamre, for the burial that he requested. A grand procession with chariots and a large party accompanied Joseph. They all returned to Egypt following the burial (Gen 50:1–14).
For the last time in this segment of The Story, we encounter fear and deceit, but they are trumped by words that reinforce a key theological message throughout it. Joseph’s brothers worried that he would seek revenge against them, now that their father was gone. So they made up a story that Jacob had asked them to ask Joseph to forgive them for harming him. Once again, Joseph expressed deep emotion—and honorable faith—as he responded to their effort to save themselves through their father’s name. Once again, Joseph wept freely and assured them of his continued care for them and their families. He insisted that he could not act for God and that God had turned their harmful intentions into good: the clan was preserved (Gen 50:15–21).
Pause to Reflect What is the most dramatic moment of forgiveness about which you have knowledge? What were the circumstances, and who was involved? Do you know what motivated the person to forgive? How did it change the situation, if at all? In what ways did blessing result?
This clan, as Joseph remembered and reaffirmed here, carried a promise from God, a promise that it would receive a land of its own. Before Joseph died, his kinfolk agreed to carry his bones with them, once God “comes to you” to take them to that land. And so Joseph died in Egypt and was buried there—for the time being (Gen 50:22–26).
This clan carried a promise from God, that it would receive a land of its own.
Closing This Chapter
Creation, Fall, Flood, Rainbow, Babel, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob, Rachel and Leah, Joseph and his brothers—The One Great Story starts out in a cosmic-style setting and introduces one colorful set of individuals after another. Over their generations, these people visit, mark, and live in a number of locations, regions, and place names that will become central “players” in the journey to a fulfilled promise—and beyond. Not only the people, but place holds striking theological significance along the way. Every episode in the Genesis narrative leads to a moment or two that leaves the listener hanging. Characters display lapses of judgment, wily calculations, and sometimes ill intentions; even the righteous Noah got drunk and passed out (Gen 9:20–21)! As more chapters are added to The Story, however, many of these characters dominate. They will become part of The Story’s appeal to later generations, in their own particular chapters.
In spite of all the questionable behavior from less-than-perfect men and women, The Story presses ahead. How? Through the unremitting persistence of the one character whose presence and purpose shadows every scene. The One Great Story contains a dizzying host of actors, but none is as central or as significant as God. That for which the Creator unceasingly hopes and adjusts impels The Story all along the way. We leave the Book of Genesis with a clan of folks whose tales of danger and exploitation remind us of a cat always landing on its feet. God has not given up on them.
The One Great Story contains a dizzying host of characters, but none is as central or as significant as God.
For the Reader
1.Have you ever sat around a campfire at night and listened to someone tell stories? What was it like? How does that experience help you imagine the effect of these episodes of The One Great Story in Genesis on its early audiences?
2.What is a question or two that you wish you could ask the final editor of Genesis concerning details in one of its episodes? Why do you think your questions are not addressed there?
3.The chapters in Genesis about Joseph do not show him performing any religious acts or even praying. Yet at key points in several episodes, Joseph refers to God and God’s purposes. What might this absorbing account be suggesting about how Joseph’s faith developed?
Suggested Activities
•Select one of the characters from Genesis who is mentioned in this chapter and read all the sections in which he or she plays a part. In what ways is his or her trust in God (or apparent lack thereof) portrayed?
•Find a map displaying locations mentioned in Genesis; these would include areas around the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, northwest to Haran, then roughly south, parallel to the eastern shore of the Mediterranean Sea, down to the Nile River in Egypt. What do you know about this region of the world? What questions come to mind as you look at the map? How do the places where you have lived and traveled affect who you are and what is important to you?