Original Meaning

Joseph’s Status (37:1–4)

WHEN THIS ACCOUNT begins, Jacob and his family have been back in the land of Canaan for about a decade. They have resumed their vocations as itinerant herders. The favoritism that Jacob felt for Rachel has apparently transferred to her older son, Joseph, for Jacob bestows special status on Joseph. Most scholars acknowledge that status, not just favor, is what the special coat represents. Nevertheless, the description of the coat remains obscure. The traditional interpretation that it was a coat of many colors1 is still the norm in Sunday school curricula as well as in popular perception (e.g., as in Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat), even though this interpretation has been nearly universally abandoned in scholarly circles. Most commentators favor something more along the line of a full-length coat or a long-sleeved coat,2 either of which would indicate that Joseph is management, not labor. This rendering finds support as early as Aquila’s Greek translation.

The problem with any suggestion is that the adjective used to describe the coat (Heb. passim) occurs only in this passage and for Tamar’s cloak in 2 Samuel 13:19. No cognates from comparative Semitic languages offer any confident clarification.3 The best indications probably come from the art of the ancient Near East. Egyptian paintings of this period depict well-dressed travelers from Canaan wearing long-sleeved, embroidered garments with a fringed scarf wrapped diagonally from waist to knee. From Mari in northwestern Mesopotamia, a fresco from this period pictures important persons (priests) dressed in garments made of rectangular pieces of cloth of various colors sewn together into a long strip that is then wrapped around the body seven or eight turns from the ankles up to the chest and then draped over one shoulder.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Joseph’s Dreams (37:5–11)

DREAMS IN THE ancient world were considered derived from the divine realm and were thus taken seriously. Dreams by prophets and kings often contained theophanies offering divine revelation. The ordinary dreams of common people were believed to contain omens that communicated information about what the gods were doing, though they usually made no reference to deity. Dreams were often filled with symbolism, necessitating an interpreter, though at times the symbols were reasonably self-evident. The information that came through dreams was not believed to be irreversible. Dreams of a rise to power like the ones Joseph had are known in the ancient Near East—notably one by Sargon, king of Akkad, half a millennium earlier than Joseph. Sargon, at that time still cupbearer to King Urzababa, recounts his dream to the king as follows:

There was a single young woman, she was high as the heavens,

she was broad as the earth,

She was firmly set as the base of a wall.

For me, she drowned you in a great [river] of blood.4

Urzababa’s advisors reinterpreted the dream to suggest that it was Sargon who was going to die rather than the king. This demonstrates how even fairly transparent dreams can be reinterpreted to suit the desires of one party or another. Joseph’s dream does not indicate the death of his brothers, simply their subordination to him. There is nothing in it that leads them to consider that Joseph’s eventual prominence will extend beyond the confines of the family. It is only his family members who bow down to him. It would not have occurred to any of them that Joseph would rise to the position of second-in-command of a dominant world power.

A curious feature of the second dream (37:9–10) is the symbolic presence of his mother and all eleven brothers. After all, his mother died giving birth to the last brother. The inclusion of his parents is of significance here, because the dream does not just suggest that Joseph will be first among his brothers (in which case it would be similar to the patriarchal blessings found in 9:26 and 27:29). It suggests Joseph’s eventual prominence in the ancestral line, superseding even his parents in significance. This justifies the inclusion of family members living or dead. Another option is that, since Joseph was less than ten when his mother died, Rachel’s handmaid, Bilhah, has been a surrogate mother to Joseph and Benjamin, and the dream refers to her.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Brothers’ Revenge (37:12–36)

FROM THE HOME base in the Valley of Hebron (37:14) Shechem is just over fifty miles, and Dothan is about fourteen more. The journey would have taken Joseph four or five days. Joseph fails to find his brothers at Shechem and receives direction from a stranger (vv. 15–17). The Hebrew word that the NIV translates “wandering” is generally used when someone is lost or straying from the right path. This same verb described Hagar’s wandering in 21:14. Probably the best English translation overall is “roaming.” We will investigate this “chance” meeting in more detail in Bridging Contexts.

Dothan, a large city, was occupied during this period. It is by a valley that cuts through the Carmel range, joining the coastal plains and the Jezreel Valley. Joseph’s brothers see him coming and begin to formulate a plan. We can imagine that at first the plan is just an idle suggestion, expressing their hatred of their brother. Even so, it quickly takes a serious turn. The text refrains from indicating which brother or brothers make the initial suggestion and in so doing implies that it represents something of a consensus. Reuben is the only objector as he adopts part of their suggestion (the cistern) but seeks to avoid violence. The text reports his intent to get Joseph back to the safety of his father. We do not know whether this reflects Reuben’s sense of responsibility as the oldest and wisest or if he is seeking ways to regain his father’s favor after the debacle of 35:22.

Cisterns were either hollowed out of limestone bedrock or dug in the ground and lined with plaster. Since most of Israel’s rainfall is confined to three or four months of the year, these cisterns collected the rainwater and made it available during the dry period. It was not unusual that during part of the year they were dry. After Joseph is stripped of his status and manhandled, the brothers sit down comfortably to eat. Again, providence is observable as a caravan headed for Egypt chances by just at this moment. Dothan is on the normal caravan route from Gilead to Egypt (crossing at Bethshean, passing through the Harod Valley to Jezreel, then crossing through the Valley of Dothan to the coastal plains and then south to Egypt along the International Coastal Highway). It is no surprise that a caravan should pass that way, but the timing is providential.

This caravan is made up of Midianites and Ishmaelites (vv. 25, 28). Midianites are descendants of Abraham through Keturah (25:2), while the Ishmaelites descended from Abraham through Hagar, so these are kinfolk. The forebears of these two peoples were half-brothers to one another (and to Isaac), and so uncles to Jacob; therefore, these traders are second or third cousins to Joseph and his brothers. It is not unusual to find the two clans together since both occupy the Arabian desert region.

Most commentators consider “Midianite” and “Ishmaelite” as variant terms for the same group. Some suggest that perhaps “Ishmaelite” had already become less an ethnic designation and more a term like gypsy or Bedouin, which describes a way of life.5 This is not impossible, but certainly another alternative is to see the caravan made up of Midianite merchants who serve as middlemen for Ishmaelite businessmen. The Midianites are the negotiators and buyers fronting for their Ishmaelite bosses, who provide them with the capital (like floor traders for investment companies). So the Midianites do the business (37:28, 36), while the goods belong to the Ishmaelites, who finance the caravan (37:25–28; 39:1).

The goods that the caravan is transporting were common commodities for trade. Myrrh was imported from southern Arabia and must have come by caravan up the Incense Road, which traversed the west coast of Arabia to the King’s Highway, which in turn led north-south through Transjordan (east of the Jordan Valley) to Damascus. Perhaps the Ishmaelites purchased this myrrh and other spices from the Arabian caravans passing through Gilead on the King’s Highway and then added to their shipment some of the balm that was native to that region.

Judah is the one who offers the idea of selling Joseph rather than killing him. This is the first appearance of a number of significant actions by Judah in the narrative as he begins his own personal journey. It is probably significant that in all three of the narrative contexts of the Joseph story where Judah plays a role, he successfully persuades others to do as he suggests (whether his suggestions are commendable or not; 37:26–27; 43:3–10; 44:16–34).6 Each speech is longer than the previous one, and each one is more commendable than the previous one.

As modern readers we must be aware of the role Judah is already playing to most of the ancient audience. While Reuben’s motives are clarified by the text (37:22), Judah’s are left unelaborated. Is he trying to save Joseph or just get rid of him conveniently? From his statement it appears as if he has inhibitions against killing relatives but has no concern for Joseph’s welfare (37:26–27). The twenty shekels sale price is typical for slaves in this period and represents about two years’ wages for a common shepherd. Jacob’s household is fairly well-to-do, so the money is of little consequence to the brothers. Additionally, by the time they divide it up among themselves, they will not have much to show for their treachery.

When Reuben returns (from wherever he has been), his dismay reflects his sense that, as the oldest, he is the one ultimately held responsible for Joseph’s safety—so much for regaining Jacob’s favor! When the text moves on to the cover-up plan, it returns to the anonymous “they.” We are not told which brother comes up with this plot to deceive Jacob about Joseph’s fate. Jacob is allowed to draw his own conclusions and is literally inconsolable. The text leaves the reader to decide whether or not Jacob’s deep grief causes the brothers any remorse for their actions. Indication of a residue of guilt only surfaces in 42:21–22.

The chapter concludes with a note concerning to whom Joseph is sold in Egypt. This is just enough to indicate that he has not been written out of the narrative never to be heard from again. His whereabouts are known, but his fate hangs in the balance. The narrator will now leave the reader in suspense for a while as he formulates an important concept for consideration. We will discuss the author’s literary strategy in the Bridging Contexts section.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Brothers’ Revenge (37:12–36)

FROM THE HOME base in the Valley of Hebron (37:14) Shechem is just over fifty miles, and Dothan is about fourteen more. The journey would have taken Joseph four or five days. Joseph fails to find his brothers at Shechem and receives direction from a stranger (vv. 15–17). The Hebrew word that the NIV translates “wandering” is generally used when someone is lost or straying from the right path. This same verb described Hagar’s wandering in 21:14. Probably the best English translation overall is “roaming.” We will investigate this “chance” meeting in more detail in Bridging Contexts.

Dothan, a large city, was occupied during this period. It is by a valley that cuts through the Carmel range, joining the coastal plains and the Jezreel Valley. Joseph’s brothers see him coming and begin to formulate a plan. We can imagine that at first the plan is just an idle suggestion, expressing their hatred of their brother. Even so, it quickly takes a serious turn. The text refrains from indicating which brother or brothers make the initial suggestion and in so doing implies that it represents something of a consensus. Reuben is the only objector as he adopts part of their suggestion (the cistern) but seeks to avoid violence. The text reports his intent to get Joseph back to the safety of his father. We do not know whether this reflects Reuben’s sense of responsibility as the oldest and wisest or if he is seeking ways to regain his father’s favor after the debacle of 35:22.

Cisterns were either hollowed out of limestone bedrock or dug in the ground and lined with plaster. Since most of Israel’s rainfall is confined to three or four months of the year, these cisterns collected the rainwater and made it available during the dry period. It was not unusual that during part of the year they were dry. After Joseph is stripped of his status and manhandled, the brothers sit down comfortably to eat. Again, providence is observable as a caravan headed for Egypt chances by just at this moment. Dothan is on the normal caravan route from Gilead to Egypt (crossing at Bethshean, passing through the Harod Valley to Jezreel, then crossing through the Valley of Dothan to the coastal plains and then south to Egypt along the International Coastal Highway). It is no surprise that a caravan should pass that way, but the timing is providential.

This caravan is made up of Midianites and Ishmaelites (vv. 25, 28). Midianites are descendants of Abraham through Keturah (25:2), while the Ishmaelites descended from Abraham through Hagar, so these are kinfolk. The forebears of these two peoples were half-brothers to one another (and to Isaac), and so uncles to Jacob; therefore, these traders are second or third cousins to Joseph and his brothers. It is not unusual to find the two clans together since both occupy the Arabian desert region.

Most commentators consider “Midianite” and “Ishmaelite” as variant terms for the same group. Some suggest that perhaps “Ishmaelite” had already become less an ethnic designation and more a term like gypsy or Bedouin, which describes a way of life.5 This is not impossible, but certainly another alternative is to see the caravan made up of Midianite merchants who serve as middlemen for Ishmaelite businessmen. The Midianites are the negotiators and buyers fronting for their Ishmaelite bosses, who provide them with the capital (like floor traders for investment companies). So the Midianites do the business (37:28, 36), while the goods belong to the Ishmaelites, who finance the caravan (37:25–28; 39:1).

The goods that the caravan is transporting were common commodities for trade. Myrrh was imported from southern Arabia and must have come by caravan up the Incense Road, which traversed the west coast of Arabia to the King’s Highway, which in turn led north-south through Transjordan (east of the Jordan Valley) to Damascus. Perhaps the Ishmaelites purchased this myrrh and other spices from the Arabian caravans passing through Gilead on the King’s Highway and then added to their shipment some of the balm that was native to that region.

Judah is the one who offers the idea of selling Joseph rather than killing him. This is the first appearance of a number of significant actions by Judah in the narrative as he begins his own personal journey. It is probably significant that in all three of the narrative contexts of the Joseph story where Judah plays a role, he successfully persuades others to do as he suggests (whether his suggestions are commendable or not; 37:26–27; 43:3–10; 44:16–34).6 Each speech is longer than the previous one, and each one is more commendable than the previous one.

As modern readers we must be aware of the role Judah is already playing to most of the ancient audience. While Reuben’s motives are clarified by the text (37:22), Judah’s are left unelaborated. Is he trying to save Joseph or just get rid of him conveniently? From his statement it appears as if he has inhibitions against killing relatives but has no concern for Joseph’s welfare (37:26–27). The twenty shekels sale price is typical for slaves in this period and represents about two years’ wages for a common shepherd. Jacob’s household is fairly well-to-do, so the money is of little consequence to the brothers. Additionally, by the time they divide it up among themselves, they will not have much to show for their treachery.

When Reuben returns (from wherever he has been), his dismay reflects his sense that, as the oldest, he is the one ultimately held responsible for Joseph’s safety—so much for regaining Jacob’s favor! When the text moves on to the cover-up plan, it returns to the anonymous “they.” We are not told which brother comes up with this plot to deceive Jacob about Joseph’s fate. Jacob is allowed to draw his own conclusions and is literally inconsolable. The text leaves the reader to decide whether or not Jacob’s deep grief causes the brothers any remorse for their actions. Indication of a residue of guilt only surfaces in 42:21–22.

The chapter concludes with a note concerning to whom Joseph is sold in Egypt. This is just enough to indicate that he has not been written out of the narrative never to be heard from again. His whereabouts are known, but his fate hangs in the balance. The narrator will now leave the reader in suspense for a while as he formulates an important concept for consideration. We will discuss the author’s literary strategy in the Bridging Contexts section.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Brothers’ Revenge (37:12–36)

FROM THE HOME base in the Valley of Hebron (37:14) Shechem is just over fifty miles, and Dothan is about fourteen more. The journey would have taken Joseph four or five days. Joseph fails to find his brothers at Shechem and receives direction from a stranger (vv. 15–17). The Hebrew word that the NIV translates “wandering” is generally used when someone is lost or straying from the right path. This same verb described Hagar’s wandering in 21:14. Probably the best English translation overall is “roaming.” We will investigate this “chance” meeting in more detail in Bridging Contexts.

Dothan, a large city, was occupied during this period. It is by a valley that cuts through the Carmel range, joining the coastal plains and the Jezreel Valley. Joseph’s brothers see him coming and begin to formulate a plan. We can imagine that at first the plan is just an idle suggestion, expressing their hatred of their brother. Even so, it quickly takes a serious turn. The text refrains from indicating which brother or brothers make the initial suggestion and in so doing implies that it represents something of a consensus. Reuben is the only objector as he adopts part of their suggestion (the cistern) but seeks to avoid violence. The text reports his intent to get Joseph back to the safety of his father. We do not know whether this reflects Reuben’s sense of responsibility as the oldest and wisest or if he is seeking ways to regain his father’s favor after the debacle of 35:22.

Cisterns were either hollowed out of limestone bedrock or dug in the ground and lined with plaster. Since most of Israel’s rainfall is confined to three or four months of the year, these cisterns collected the rainwater and made it available during the dry period. It was not unusual that during part of the year they were dry. After Joseph is stripped of his status and manhandled, the brothers sit down comfortably to eat. Again, providence is observable as a caravan headed for Egypt chances by just at this moment. Dothan is on the normal caravan route from Gilead to Egypt (crossing at Bethshean, passing through the Harod Valley to Jezreel, then crossing through the Valley of Dothan to the coastal plains and then south to Egypt along the International Coastal Highway). It is no surprise that a caravan should pass that way, but the timing is providential.

This caravan is made up of Midianites and Ishmaelites (vv. 25, 28). Midianites are descendants of Abraham through Keturah (25:2), while the Ishmaelites descended from Abraham through Hagar, so these are kinfolk. The forebears of these two peoples were half-brothers to one another (and to Isaac), and so uncles to Jacob; therefore, these traders are second or third cousins to Joseph and his brothers. It is not unusual to find the two clans together since both occupy the Arabian desert region.

Most commentators consider “Midianite” and “Ishmaelite” as variant terms for the same group. Some suggest that perhaps “Ishmaelite” had already become less an ethnic designation and more a term like gypsy or Bedouin, which describes a way of life.5 This is not impossible, but certainly another alternative is to see the caravan made up of Midianite merchants who serve as middlemen for Ishmaelite businessmen. The Midianites are the negotiators and buyers fronting for their Ishmaelite bosses, who provide them with the capital (like floor traders for investment companies). So the Midianites do the business (37:28, 36), while the goods belong to the Ishmaelites, who finance the caravan (37:25–28; 39:1).

The goods that the caravan is transporting were common commodities for trade. Myrrh was imported from southern Arabia and must have come by caravan up the Incense Road, which traversed the west coast of Arabia to the King’s Highway, which in turn led north-south through Transjordan (east of the Jordan Valley) to Damascus. Perhaps the Ishmaelites purchased this myrrh and other spices from the Arabian caravans passing through Gilead on the King’s Highway and then added to their shipment some of the balm that was native to that region.

Judah is the one who offers the idea of selling Joseph rather than killing him. This is the first appearance of a number of significant actions by Judah in the narrative as he begins his own personal journey. It is probably significant that in all three of the narrative contexts of the Joseph story where Judah plays a role, he successfully persuades others to do as he suggests (whether his suggestions are commendable or not; 37:26–27; 43:3–10; 44:16–34).6 Each speech is longer than the previous one, and each one is more commendable than the previous one.

As modern readers we must be aware of the role Judah is already playing to most of the ancient audience. While Reuben’s motives are clarified by the text (37:22), Judah’s are left unelaborated. Is he trying to save Joseph or just get rid of him conveniently? From his statement it appears as if he has inhibitions against killing relatives but has no concern for Joseph’s welfare (37:26–27). The twenty shekels sale price is typical for slaves in this period and represents about two years’ wages for a common shepherd. Jacob’s household is fairly well-to-do, so the money is of little consequence to the brothers. Additionally, by the time they divide it up among themselves, they will not have much to show for their treachery.

When Reuben returns (from wherever he has been), his dismay reflects his sense that, as the oldest, he is the one ultimately held responsible for Joseph’s safety—so much for regaining Jacob’s favor! When the text moves on to the cover-up plan, it returns to the anonymous “they.” We are not told which brother comes up with this plot to deceive Jacob about Joseph’s fate. Jacob is allowed to draw his own conclusions and is literally inconsolable. The text leaves the reader to decide whether or not Jacob’s deep grief causes the brothers any remorse for their actions. Indication of a residue of guilt only surfaces in 42:21–22.

The chapter concludes with a note concerning to whom Joseph is sold in Egypt. This is just enough to indicate that he has not been written out of the narrative never to be heard from again. His whereabouts are known, but his fate hangs in the balance. The narrator will now leave the reader in suspense for a while as he formulates an important concept for consideration. We will discuss the author’s literary strategy in the Bridging Contexts section.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Brothers’ Revenge (37:12–36)

FROM THE HOME base in the Valley of Hebron (37:14) Shechem is just over fifty miles, and Dothan is about fourteen more. The journey would have taken Joseph four or five days. Joseph fails to find his brothers at Shechem and receives direction from a stranger (vv. 15–17). The Hebrew word that the NIV translates “wandering” is generally used when someone is lost or straying from the right path. This same verb described Hagar’s wandering in 21:14. Probably the best English translation overall is “roaming.” We will investigate this “chance” meeting in more detail in Bridging Contexts.

Dothan, a large city, was occupied during this period. It is by a valley that cuts through the Carmel range, joining the coastal plains and the Jezreel Valley. Joseph’s brothers see him coming and begin to formulate a plan. We can imagine that at first the plan is just an idle suggestion, expressing their hatred of their brother. Even so, it quickly takes a serious turn. The text refrains from indicating which brother or brothers make the initial suggestion and in so doing implies that it represents something of a consensus. Reuben is the only objector as he adopts part of their suggestion (the cistern) but seeks to avoid violence. The text reports his intent to get Joseph back to the safety of his father. We do not know whether this reflects Reuben’s sense of responsibility as the oldest and wisest or if he is seeking ways to regain his father’s favor after the debacle of 35:22.

Cisterns were either hollowed out of limestone bedrock or dug in the ground and lined with plaster. Since most of Israel’s rainfall is confined to three or four months of the year, these cisterns collected the rainwater and made it available during the dry period. It was not unusual that during part of the year they were dry. After Joseph is stripped of his status and manhandled, the brothers sit down comfortably to eat. Again, providence is observable as a caravan headed for Egypt chances by just at this moment. Dothan is on the normal caravan route from Gilead to Egypt (crossing at Bethshean, passing through the Harod Valley to Jezreel, then crossing through the Valley of Dothan to the coastal plains and then south to Egypt along the International Coastal Highway). It is no surprise that a caravan should pass that way, but the timing is providential.

This caravan is made up of Midianites and Ishmaelites (vv. 25, 28). Midianites are descendants of Abraham through Keturah (25:2), while the Ishmaelites descended from Abraham through Hagar, so these are kinfolk. The forebears of these two peoples were half-brothers to one another (and to Isaac), and so uncles to Jacob; therefore, these traders are second or third cousins to Joseph and his brothers. It is not unusual to find the two clans together since both occupy the Arabian desert region.

Most commentators consider “Midianite” and “Ishmaelite” as variant terms for the same group. Some suggest that perhaps “Ishmaelite” had already become less an ethnic designation and more a term like gypsy or Bedouin, which describes a way of life.5 This is not impossible, but certainly another alternative is to see the caravan made up of Midianite merchants who serve as middlemen for Ishmaelite businessmen. The Midianites are the negotiators and buyers fronting for their Ishmaelite bosses, who provide them with the capital (like floor traders for investment companies). So the Midianites do the business (37:28, 36), while the goods belong to the Ishmaelites, who finance the caravan (37:25–28; 39:1).

The goods that the caravan is transporting were common commodities for trade. Myrrh was imported from southern Arabia and must have come by caravan up the Incense Road, which traversed the west coast of Arabia to the King’s Highway, which in turn led north-south through Transjordan (east of the Jordan Valley) to Damascus. Perhaps the Ishmaelites purchased this myrrh and other spices from the Arabian caravans passing through Gilead on the King’s Highway and then added to their shipment some of the balm that was native to that region.

Judah is the one who offers the idea of selling Joseph rather than killing him. This is the first appearance of a number of significant actions by Judah in the narrative as he begins his own personal journey. It is probably significant that in all three of the narrative contexts of the Joseph story where Judah plays a role, he successfully persuades others to do as he suggests (whether his suggestions are commendable or not; 37:26–27; 43:3–10; 44:16–34).6 Each speech is longer than the previous one, and each one is more commendable than the previous one.

As modern readers we must be aware of the role Judah is already playing to most of the ancient audience. While Reuben’s motives are clarified by the text (37:22), Judah’s are left unelaborated. Is he trying to save Joseph or just get rid of him conveniently? From his statement it appears as if he has inhibitions against killing relatives but has no concern for Joseph’s welfare (37:26–27). The twenty shekels sale price is typical for slaves in this period and represents about two years’ wages for a common shepherd. Jacob’s household is fairly well-to-do, so the money is of little consequence to the brothers. Additionally, by the time they divide it up among themselves, they will not have much to show for their treachery.

When Reuben returns (from wherever he has been), his dismay reflects his sense that, as the oldest, he is the one ultimately held responsible for Joseph’s safety—so much for regaining Jacob’s favor! When the text moves on to the cover-up plan, it returns to the anonymous “they.” We are not told which brother comes up with this plot to deceive Jacob about Joseph’s fate. Jacob is allowed to draw his own conclusions and is literally inconsolable. The text leaves the reader to decide whether or not Jacob’s deep grief causes the brothers any remorse for their actions. Indication of a residue of guilt only surfaces in 42:21–22.

The chapter concludes with a note concerning to whom Joseph is sold in Egypt. This is just enough to indicate that he has not been written out of the narrative never to be heard from again. His whereabouts are known, but his fate hangs in the balance. The narrator will now leave the reader in suspense for a while as he formulates an important concept for consideration. We will discuss the author’s literary strategy in the Bridging Contexts section.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.

Original Meaning

Elevation of Joseph (41:39–57)31

THE TEXT GOES into significant detail concerning the elevation of Joseph to high office. Similar scenes are depicted in every detail in Egyptian tomb paintings. This section contains the most information that can be checked against Egyptian practice and history. The first step for Pharaoh is to give Joseph his signet ring. This ring was necessary for Joseph to do business in Pharaoh’s name since it was used to seal official documents. The design of the signet featured the name of the pharaoh in its traditional cartouche (an oval surrounding the hieroglyphic characters). The linen robes and the gold chain are part of the investiture that signifies his rank, status, and office. Chariots were the limousines of the day, so it is arranged that Joseph will ride in style. The men going before him clearing the way are the equivalent of the Secret Service protection that is offered to important dignitaries and officers in the United States.

Placing Joseph second-in-command may mean several different things. The second-in-command in all administrative matters in ancient Egypt was the Grand Vizier, also called the “Overseer of the Royal Estates.” It is not impossible that Joseph is given that position. But there are other posts that could make the claim of being second-in-command in the area of their responsibility. This is similar to a company today that has a President/CEO and a staff of vice presidents: Vice President of Production, Vice President of Marketing, Vice President of Legal Affairs, and so on. Each of these individuals can legitimately claim to be second-in-command in his or her particular area.

Similarly, numerous Egyptian nobles could serve in offices and bear titles that identified them as second only to the pharaoh. Such titles include “Great Favorite of the Lord of the Two Lands” and “Foremost Among His Courtiers.” The point is that even if we possessed a complete list of Grand Viziers for this period (we do not) and Joseph was not found on the list, there would be no cause for concern. Certainly one of the most appropriate known titles to describe Joseph’s duties is “Overseer of the Granaries of Upper and Lower Egypt.” It is not unusual to find accounts of officials elevated from lowly status to high positions of authority. Such a display for a non-Egyptian was uncommon prior to the Hyksos period (1750–1550 B.C.), when a greater number of Semites served in Egypt.

The meaning of Joseph’s Egyptian name is uncertain but may be “the God has spoken and he will live” or “the one who knows.” An example of renaming a Semite official elevated to high office with an Egyptian name is also found in the reign of Pharaoh Merneptah (1224–1208 B.C.).32 The marriage arranged for Joseph places him within the circle of one of the most powerful priestly families in Egypt. During the period from 1600–1100 B.C., only the priests of Ptah of Memphis were more influential. The priest of On officiated at all major festivals and supervised lesser priests, who served the sun god Re in the temple-city of Heliopolis (ten miles northeast of Cairo).

The last section of Genesis 41 confirms that everything works out exactly as Joseph has said and that his policies are successful in dealing with the crisis. In 41:56–57 we discover that the famine not only affects Egypt but all the countries around as well. Thus the covenant blessing echoes through the passage with all the nations of the earth being blessed by Abraham’s family, now represented in Joseph, ruler in Egypt.

Bridging Contexts

WHILE EACH OF the accounts of the patriarchs finds opportunity to address every aspect of the covenant, each major cycle takes one element as its most noticeable motif. The Abraham account focused on the possession of the land while the Jacob account focused on the establishment of the family; the Joseph story brings the blessing clause into prominence.

We must address a number of important issues as we try to get to the bottom line of the teaching of this story. (1) I will focus on the literary strategy of the author.47 I do not intend to do a full literary analysis but will comment on some of the major features, assuming that the literary strategies of the author more often than not draw attention to his more important points.

(2) I will probe the significance of the character and characterization of Joseph. Throughout this commentary we have often probed what the author intends us to learn from the characters of the text in terms of role modeling. Joseph offers a number of rich character traits that will bring us back once again to that methodological question.

(3) Finally, we will turn our attention to the theological contribution of the passage. This includes the question of how the Joseph story contributes to the development of the covenant. Throughout the commentary the covenant has been presented as the major theme dictating the choices of the author. In the Joseph story, the covenant is much less visible, so it is important to address how the story is used to contribute to the covenant story.

Literary strategy. Most of the episodes included in the Joseph story need no explanation or justification. They are essential to the development of the plot line. So, for instance, the episodes recounting the giving of the coat, or Joseph’s dreams, or Potiphar’s wife, or Joseph’s elevation are all transparent in the role they play in the larger narrative. Our attention needs to focus on those episodes or small sections whose purposes for inclusion are not as transparent. This is an important procedure if we are convinced that the author is intentional about his work. There is little in the narrative that we should be content to label incidental. Often attention to the odd verses can help identify or at least clarify the agenda of the author. If too many passages don’t fit into the proposed overall purpose of the author, then the interpreter must reconsider whether he or she has identified the author’s purpose correctly.

In addition, the odd sections often make theological contributions when they are carefully investigated. In the following paragraphs, I will analyze three sections. (1) Genesis 37:14–17 initially appears incidental—a detail that serves no purpose; I will suggest otherwise. (2) Genesis 38 has long been an interpretive crux. It appears to be a digression that has nothing to do with Joseph’s story. Recent interpreters who are alert to literary strategies have offered some attractive alternatives that draw the passage into the circle of the Joseph story. (3) Finally, I have chosen 41:42–45—a section that may not strike the reader as odd at all. In this case, it is easy to justify its presence on the surface, but there is more to it than meets the eye.

Joseph gets directions (37:14–17). Why does the author recount the detail of how Joseph cannot find his brothers and gets directions from a stranger (37:15–17)? In previous chapters, unnamed men usually turn out to be angels (esp. 18:2 and 32:24; exception in 4:23), but neither this text nor any other offers such an identification of this man. C. Westermann takes the verses as an indication of Joseph’s naiveté and inability to function well apart from his father.48 N. Sarna, in contrast, takes it as an indication of Joseph’s persistence.49 Other commentators draw literary significance from the passage rather than character significance. Hamilton sees it as a transition from Jacob’s protection to his brothers’ victimization; Wenham sees it as building the suspense.50 There are problems with all of these approaches. If the section is intended to reveal something of Joseph’s character, it does not do so effectively since two scholars draw very different inferences from it. The suggestion that the verses serve as a literary transition or suspense builder are not necessarily wrong; they are simply insufficient.

I see the main thrust of the passage neither as a literary device nor as character development, but as subtle theology. In our worldview it may be considered serendipitous that roaming about in the unsettled areas, Joseph just happens to encounter a man who has overheard the conversation of his brothers and can direct him to them. Otherwise, he most certainly would not have found them (fourteen miles away), would have returned home, and theoretically saved himself a long tour of duty in Egypt. But the Bible knows only of providence, not serendipity. As a result, the author expects the reader to infer from this incident that behind the scenes God is at work.51 God made sure that Joseph hooks up with his brothers, despite what his brothers are going to do to him. We cannot shy away from this theology given the clear statement of 50:20, “God intended it for good.”

Judah and Tamar (ch. 38). When Genesis 37 draws to its conclusion, Joseph is sold as a slave in Egypt. What is going to become of him? Will we ever see him again? Does he still have any role in the covenant people? These are normal questions to ask if you have never read the story before. At first reading we are baffled at the sudden intrusion of Genesis 38.52 What is it doing here in the middle of the Joseph story? Why should we care about this disturbing tale of Judah’s family history? What does it have to do with the covenant?

I am most persuaded by the interpretation that sees Genesis 38 not only as having literary links to the previous narratives but also as a montage paving the way for the surprising conclusion to Joseph’s story. Linkage can be seen as Judah is asked to identify his belongings at the climax of the narrative, just as he and his brothers asked Jacob to identify Joseph’s coat. In both of these cases, the identification is at the core of the hidden information featured in the narrative. A retaliation element was explained under Original Meaning to the effect that the deaths of Judah’s sons can be correlated to his role in the disposal of Joseph. But these are minor elements in the justification of Genesis 38. The more significant role is accomplished through its function as part of a montage.

Montage involves the juxtaposition of apparently unrelated material in such a way that the one can create an impact on the other. Such a role for Genesis 38 does not emerge until the episode draws to its conclusion. On the surface, it appears to end abruptly with an odd detail about the circumstances of the birth of these twins. But it is precisely when the narrative seems odd that we must pay closer attention. By concluding with the account of the birth of Perez and Zerah, the text portrays a situation in which the younger son triumphs—makes a breach for himself.53 Though Judah currently occupies a privileged position in the family, Joseph is going to emerge on top, even if after Genesis 37 all seems lost. We are left only to anticipate what sort of breach Joseph will make for himself as the narrative unfolds.

Joseph’s elevation (41:42–45). No interpreter would question the need for this section of text. Joseph must be elevated to high office for the plot to reach its conclusion. The literary task here, then, involves the more subtle question concerning why the text pauses to note all of the titles, regalia, and instructions of how Joseph is to be treated. The Egyptian detail in Joseph’s elevation to high office accomplishes two goals. (1) By showing Joseph to be totally Egyptianized, the stage is set for the most elaborate masquerade yet in the book of Genesis. All of the trappings of the Egyptian elite serve to make Joseph entirely unrecognizable to his brothers. As with earlier important masquerades in the book, the titles, regalia, and so forth provide him his disguise when they arrive.

(2) The details also contribute an important irony that is theologically significant. On the surface, Joseph is being “made” by Pharaoh. Everything he is given comes from Pharaoh’s hand: his office, status, privilege, name, wife—everything. He is “reborn” as a servant of Pharaoh. The irony is that from the standpoint of Genesis, it is not the hand of Pharaoh that has remade Joseph but the hand of God. For all that Pharaoh did, God brought Joseph to the recognition of Pharaoh, and God gave Joseph wisdom and success. In the end, Joseph is not first and foremost Pharaoh’s man, but God’s man. He is not Pharaoh’s instrument of economic survival; he is God’s instrument of salvation. So Pharaoh too is an instrument (as is often the case with kings and emperors in the Bible), with no choice but unwittingly to carry out God’s plan.

In conclusion, each of these “odd” sections has a theologically significant role to play. In the two shorter sections, God’s providence is seen to be active on both ends of Joseph’s destiny (his sale and his elevation). In the larger text (ch. 38), God’s sovereignty is previewed as the younger son (Joseph, like Perez) is about to make a breach for himself and emerge from his slavery and imprisonment to become a ruler in Egypt, first among his brothers, and deliverer of the world from famine. God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages.

Character of Joseph. There is no question that many of us could grow and mature if we accepted the challenge to be like Joseph. There is much to admire about this man. He possesses an integrity to which we can all aspire. Of course, the same could be said of Abraham Lincoln. As interpreters of the Bible, we cannot stop at the question, “Does this person have admirable qualities that I could benefit from emulating?” We must go to the next step of asking, “Does the Bible present the character of this person as a model to be emulated?” If not, then the admirable qualities we may observe in a Joseph or a Moses or a David are no different from the admirable qualities of any other individual we read about in history or literature.

What makes the Bible different from all of these others is its authoritative teaching. As we have mentioned before, though every detail of the text is inspired and has a role to play, the details do not carry authoritative teaching on their own. Solomon is not offered as a model of setting up an administration (1 Kings 2); Esther is not offered as a model for how to change government policy (Est. 4–7); David is not offered as a model for how to get out of a rough spot (1 Sam. 21:10–15)—though each is successful and receives no condemnation for how they conduct themselves. We must take our lead carefully from what can be determined to be the agenda of the text.

Joseph’s character as a model versus God as character builder. If the casual reader were asked to assess the character of Joseph, his sterling moment would undoubtedly be his persistent refusal of the advances of Potiphar’s wife.54 Other high points can be found in his humility regarding his skills (41:16) and his willingness to forgive his brothers’ treacherous behavior.

On the negative side of the ledger, Joseph has often been accused of being a tattletale or a spoiled brat, based on the information given in 37:1–11. But it is difficult to make that case from the text. One can interpret the “bad report” Joseph brings concerning his brothers (37:2) as bringing their nasty words to his father—that is, that they are verbally abusing him.55 Even if he does bring a negative report about his brothers’ work, there is no indication that his assessment is spiteful or unjustified (though the word used in the text often has slander in its undertone). As another instance, we may criticize Joseph for telling his dreams, but most of the criticism must come from the tone of voice that he uses—which, of course, we do not know.

Consequently, it may be unjustified to see young Joseph as a “spoiled brat.” But is the text promoting Joseph as a pillar of integrity and urging us as readers to emulate his character? We can admire Joseph and aspire to be as firm in our resolve in the face of repeated temptation. But has the narrator given us this account for that purpose? Though we dare not deny multiple motivations on the part of the author, the selection, placement, and emphasis given any passage must be identified within the scope of the larger literary piece.

In the context of the discussion of the book of Genesis and its purpose, the integrity of Joseph is not a major point the author pursues at any length. In most cases, Joseph’s conduct is capable of being interpreted in a number of different ways. No clear model is presented, and no exhortations or statements of approval from the narrator urge us to go and do likewise. The narrative of Genesis 39 fits in the larger scheme portraying how God, in his sovereignty, brings his plans to fruition through what appear to be the most devastating of circumstances. This explanation commends itself as the reason that the narrator has told the story of Potiphar’s wife, for he gives it a purpose in the larger scope of the book.

One can easily make the case that the methodology espoused here is too demanding and too narrowly restricted. What does it matter if Joseph is given the benefit of the doubt, interpreted as a fine, outstanding individual, and adopted as a role model for those who struggle with some of the same situations that Joseph overcame? The problem is that methods must be applied consistently, not arbitrarily, if we are to view them as credible and acceptable. If a particular method may be applied in such a way that readers can prove whatever they want, it is flawed. In Fiddler on the Roof, Perchik, the young revolutionary, takes a job teaching Bible to Tevye’s younger children. As he tells the story of Leah being handed off to Jacob surreptitiously, he informs his young students that here the Bible teaches that you should never trust your employer. What makes his lesson wrong and another moralization right?

Likewise, if a particular method works in one case but gets the interpreter in real trouble in another, it is an unacceptable method. So, for instance, we must ask what criteria are to be used to determine whether or not a biblical character’s behavior should be adopted as a model for our behavior. (1) If we reply that we make that determination through our own common sense and good judgment, then the text is not teaching us—we are merely reiterating things we are convinced are true. (2) If we reply that the behavior can be adopted as a model as long as it is explicitly taught somewhere else in Scripture, we have tacitly admitted that it is not taught here, and perhaps we should then be content with the teaching as it occurs where it is being taught.56

Joseph’s economic policies. Aside from methodological theory, however, we need to be aware that faulty methods will eventually get us into trouble. For an example, Joseph’s economic policies hold the same level of approval in the narrative as Joseph’s character. God uses both to accomplish his ends, and both lead to success. Does this mean that we should be as ready to admire, approve, and adopt Joseph’s economic policies as we do his character? Was this a fair and equitable economic policy for the Egyptians? Their surplus was commandeered, which meant that they could not profit from it. Then it was sold back to them in their need until they were devoid of personal possessions and had no alternative but to work for the government at subsistence-level compensation.

This is close to the modern Israeli kibbutz system, and it can work very well. But our American capitalistic mentality finds such a system extremely hard to swallow, and we undoubtedly would label it repressive. Yet, if there could be a third hand in the equation, God blessed it and used it to help the Egyptians and their neighboring countries survive the famine, and they themselves considered it a life-saving strategy.

Given the methodology that accepts role models in the text, only an arbitrary judgment can dismiss this economic policy as inapplicable for today. It is only when we consistently adopt the criteria of taking our lead from the overt teaching of the text that the morass of subjectivity can be avoided and the text can retain its clear vision and voice.

Theological contributions.

Covenant obstacles. We have seen a gradual change over the chapters of the patriarchal narratives. In the earlier episodes, the obstacles were related directly to the covenant and therefore concerned land and family. As the narrative has progressed, those issues have moved more into the background (without disappearing altogether) while other obstacles have emerged. In the process the question has shifted from whether God can deliver the covenant benefits that he has promised to Abraham’s family to whether God can use this family to bring blessing to the world. Can all the nations of the earth be blessed through individuals and a family who are constantly on the brink of self-destruction? To this end the text continues its attention to the obstacles that were introduced in the Jacob cycle and that have now become recognizable motifs.

(1) Favoritism/conflict. In the Jacob cycle, the favoritism of Rebekah for Jacob and of Isaac for Esau was responsible for the conflict that tore the family apart and threatened its demise. Though the conflict between Esau and Jacob is eventually resolved, the same issues of favoritism and conflict recur in the Joseph cycle. Their reincarnation brings renewed jeopardy to the effectual operation of the covenant. The first segment of the Joseph story (chs. 37–41; resolved in 42:1–9a) opens with the cause for the conflict—Jacob’s favoritism and the resulting jealousy of the brothers. The stage for ongoing conflict is set with Joseph’s dreams foretelling his eventual rise over his brothers. The conflict is overcome when Joseph’s dreams come true and his brothers bow down to him (42:6–9).

(2) Character. A second obstacle that becomes reality in the Jacob cycle is the jeopardy posed by the character flaws of the heirs to the covenant. Both Jacob and Esau are presented as flawed, and God has to reform Jacob before he can take his place in the unfolding drama of the covenant. As concluded above, the portrayal of Joseph as a spoiled brat is somewhat subjective. Even given the worst-case scenario, however, taunting his brothers with the dream hardly registers on the scale of character flaws that the text has posed as obstacles.

The most persuasive evidence against the idea that Joseph’s character flaws constitute an obstacle is that the text shows no sign of them in Egypt. In fact, his character is exemplary in every way. The hardship he experiences in being sent to prison is borne of his integrity, not of the need for him to be broken. In the end it is just the path that the Lord uses to get him into the position where he can fulfill his role in God’s plan. Though Joseph undoubtedly matured through the narrative and inevitably experienced character refinement through his trials, there is no evidence that some mending of his character is necessary or that some flaw is resolved. God is involved in character building, not character transformation.

Though there may be no character flaw in Joseph that poses an obstacle, the character flaws in the brothers present a major obstacle, not to the covenant as a whole but to Joseph and his covenant role (Gen. 37). This character obstacle is brought to resolution by Joseph’s testing of the brothers in the second segment of the Joseph story. This test extends from their bowing down to him (42:6–9) to their passing of the test he devised for them leading to revealing his identity to them (42–44; resolved in 45:1–15). Joseph intentionally seeks to discover whether the character of his brothers has been transformed. God not only overcame the obstacle of their character flaws by transforming them; he overcame the obstacle posed by the crimes they perpetrated in their jealousy by using those very criminal acts to accomplish his plan.

(3) Land. If the first segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of conflict (37:1–42:9a) and the second segment of the cycle addressed the obstacle of character (42:9b–45:15), the third segment of the cycle introduces an obstacle concerning presence in and possession of the land (45:16–47:27) as it details the resettlement of Abraham’s family in Egypt (and therefore out of the Promised Land). Here the apparent obstacle to the covenant promises does not find resolution but is deemed tolerable in light of the fact that God has commanded it, indicates that he is going with them, and promises to bring them back. This obstacle is not going to find resolution until the Exodus and the Conquest, which put them back in the land.

Sovereignty: God intended it for good. Joseph is told at the beginning of the story to see to the welfare of his brothers (37:14). It is all but impossible at that point to anticipate the way that he will eventually accomplish that on a grand scale (47:11–12). The cryptic comment in 37:14, like the ones in 22:5 and 29:14, contains more truth than is apparent at first. In his sovereignty and related to the covenant, God is going to use Joseph not only to see to the welfare of his family but to see to the welfare of the world.

But God’s timetable doesn’t always move as quickly as we might like. It takes thirteen years in slavery and prison before Joseph is elevated. Even once Joseph has established his reputation as one who can interpret dreams, two whole years go by (41:1) until God gives the dream to Pharaoh that stirs the memory of the cupbearer and gets Joseph out of prison.

Not only is God’s timetable difficult for us to anticipate, God’s methods may be difficult for us to recognize. This is illustrated in a minor vignette in which, when the brothers discover the silver in their sacks, they conclude that God has done this to punish them (42:28). In contrast, they discover that things are not as they appear when Joseph’s steward indicates that the silver is God’s gift (43:23). What they see as God’s action against them is actually a blessing in disguise.

In the end, that is the bottom line of the Joseph story, as 45:5–8 clearly articulates. God’s sovereignty and blessing can be found in what appear to be the most heinous crimes and the most disastrous circumstances. This does not mean that God approves of the crimes or that he enjoys bringing disaster into our lives. It is simply a testimony to his ability to bring good out of evil. The depths of God’s sovereignty are not demonstrated by his repression of our choices that inevitably reveal our sinfulness and fallen self-will, but by the fact that there is no choice that we can make, however sinful or fallen, that can interfere with his plan. In fact, often enough, as in the case of Joseph, those choices end up furthering his plan.

God did not approve of the treachery of Joseph’s brothers. They were fully responsible for their crime. He did not make them do it. He did not need their treachery to accomplish his plan. But some way or other, Joseph was going to get to Egypt and come to the place where God’s blessing and deliverance could come through him. If God cannot use the sinful choices that we make, his sovereignty is limited and there is no hope for any of us.

Contemporary Significance

“DO YOU KNOW why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief, God uses it to serve his own righteous purposes.”

“So God uses wicked people as his tools?”

“God gives us the freedom to do great evil, if we choose. Then he uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what he chooses.”

“So in the long run, God always wins?”

“Yes”

“In the short run, though, it can be uncomfortable.”57

God’s sovereignty. When I play the computer in chess, it is an exercise in futility and inevitability. Since I am not very good at chess, I usually find that the computer continually puts me into positions where I have to respond with certain moves, yet those very moves lead inevitably to further the computer’s strategy and ultimate victory. In the rare cases that I feel free to choose a move that furthers my game strategy, I usually discover that my choice is not a particularly good one. If I inadvertently try to make an illegal move, the computer does not allow it. If I make a stupid move, the computer makes me pay for it as it weaves my stupidity into its strategy. If I make a move with evil intent, the computer parries it (handily) and usually uses it to its own advantage.

Compared to God, we are all like bad chess players competing against a computer. There are differences, of course. God is not just in it to win, and God’s moves are not mechanically programmed. In one sense it can be said that when he wins, we win. He is driven by love and compassion. Yet, just as in the illustration, we can at times feel caught in the current of the events that surround us, not understanding how we can be winning when it feels so much like losing.

When life seems to be going terribly wrong, as it did for Joseph on a few occasions, it is difficult to affirm God’s sovereignty. Joel Sonnenberg is a modern-day illustration of someone who had cause to question God’s sovereignty and love. He was not yet two years old when a tragic chain-reaction car accident changed his life. A truck crashed into the back of a line of cars that was stopped at a toll plaza, and the car Joel was riding in was engulfed in flames. Agonizing minutes went by before he could be rescued. Though he survived, he was faced with excruciating pain, and even then the fifty-plus surgeries have still left him severely disfigured.

Bitterness would have been easy. But instead of rejecting God as powerless or cruel, Joel has allowed God’s love to fill him, and he has had opportunity to testify to what God can do in someone’s life. He has been featured in national news programs such as 48 Hours and Public Eye with Bryant Gumbel.58 Special reports by Chicago anchor Carol Marin have also followed Joel’s story over the years. He graduated from Taylor University in the spring of 2000. The university’s website listed some of Joel’s achievements and honors: Eagle Scout, Discover Tribute award winner, Western North Carolina Citizen of the Year, and high school student body president, to name just a few.59

Like Joseph, Joel could not have known what God would eventually accomplish through the crises and tragedies of his life. We are not in a position to argue with God about why he sovereignly allows the difficult things that come into our lives. As the prophet says in Isaiah 45:9–10:

Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker,

to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground.

Does the clay say to the potter,

“What are you making?”

Does your work say,

“He has no hands”?

Woe to him who says to his father,

“What have you begotten?”

or to his mother,

“What have you brought to birth?”

Unlike Joseph, Joel’s troubles were not caused by someone’s evil intentions. The fact is, however, that even when evil intentions are involved, whatever people intend for evil God can use to bring about good. God does not promise to shield us from all evil. But we can believe that whenever evil comes, God is able to accomplish good through it.

Like Joseph, some have experienced preparation for ministry as a result of undeserved incarceration. John Sung, though not as well known as some of his contemporaries, was one of the great revivalists of the twentieth century. His pivotal role in the Chinese revival from 1927–1937 earned him the epithet the “John Wesley of China.” Sung was converted to Christianity as a boy and in his late teen years came to study in America. In a little over five years, he earned bachelor’s, master’s, and doctoral degrees, even though he had to work full time to support himself. At the same time, however, his seminary studies led him away from his childhood faith into the critical skepticism of his professors.

When John Sung finally took a step back and looked at who he had become, he realized that he was a person of doubt, not of faith, and that he had lost his love of the Lord. He recommitted his life to Christ and began preaching to his classmates and professors with a fervent zeal. As a result, they concluded he was mentally unstable, and he soon found himself committed to an asylum for the mentally impaired. For six months he was thus unjustly imprisoned with only his Bible. This turned out to be a time of spiritual incubation that was instrumental in his preparation for ministry. He emerged with a strong resolve and fiery zeal that launched a decade of revival in China. He died of tuberculosis at the age of forty-three, just a few years before the communist takeover in that country, but his work can be said to have laid the foundation for the church in China to survive the dark days that lay ahead.60

God’s revelation of his power to the world sometimes comes in the most unlikely packages—whether in the effervescence and joy of a Joel Sonnenberg, who emerged from the flames to show the world what it means to rejoice in the Lord regardless of one’s circumstances, or a John Sung, who emerged from the insane asylum to prepare his people spiritually for the crisis that loomed invisibly on the horizon.

It would be inappropriate to say that God “caused” the fire that disfigured Joel Sonnenberg or that God “caused” either John Sung’s skepticism or his incarceration. Yet perhaps it would be too large a step away from God’s sovereignty to say simply that he “allowed” these things to happen. We do not want to be guilty of the reductionism that is so interested in insulating God from damage to his reputation that it cripples his sovereignty. But is there some language that falls between “cause” and “allow” that fully retains God’s sovereignty, yet does not impugn him with capricious acts of injustice?

Perhaps we can begin by viewing the big picture rather than addressing individual cases. In this sense we can affirm that God sustains a cosmos that temporarily accommodates the presence of evil. He grants evil a certain latitude with the sovereign confidence that even when it does its worst, he can outflank it. That he often chooses to outflank it rather than prevent it defines what we mean when we say that he accommodates its presence.

To return to the illustration of computer chess, the computer does not make me move one way or the other, but it limits my choices and sometimes forces my hand. It is in absolute control of the game, even though I am making independent choices. Whatever choices I make are powerless to hamper its strategies. Neither the word “cause” nor the word “allow” describes the computer’s role in my moves. Since I cannot find a word that describes the computer’s role in my moves, it is only possible to describe the computer’s role in the game (of which I am involved). It accepts me as an opponent, but its mastery is complete. It controls the game, and I cannot even minutely divert its strategies, let alone defeat it.

I cannot pretend to offer any language that resolves all the problems of reconciling God’s sovereignty with the presence of evil in the world. It should be noted, however, that the Bible’s own attempt to reconcile these issues is not represented by detailed and technical philosophical treatises. Instead, the important theology is clarified by illustration because, as we all know, where language may fail, illustration can succeed. The story of Joseph, therefore, can stand as a living treatise on the theology of God’s sovereignty.

God’s timetable. In Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, the narrator encourages the imprisoned Joseph not to despair because “I’ve read the book and you come out on top.” Unfortunately, neither Joseph nor any of us has the benefit of such a prognosticator. Our books are written as we live them out, and none of us knows what the ending will look like. Too often we may feel as if we are languishing in the doldrums of life, waiting for God to bring our work or talents to fruition. It is true that life is more often like the Sargasso Sea than the Gulf Stream. But God wants us to be faithful (as, for instance, Joseph was in Gen. 39) where we are, in whatever phase our life or ministry may be in. Our service to God is not just comprised of the end result of our life or ministry; it includes the process by which we get there.

I once heard a story (which I have been unable to trace) that tells of a missionary who was getting ready to go home after long years of service to an African tribal people. As the people gathered on the last day to bid their farewells to this beloved woman who had served so faithfully, they brought gifts to express their gratitude. One man presented her with a shell whose appearance was entirely unremarkable. The missionary, however, recognized it as a shell that could only be found in an area several weeks’ journey from the settlement. When she commented to the man about this, his reply was that the journey was part of the gift.

In the same way, we must realize that the value of the service we render to God is not just measured by how remarkable the end result is. God also finds value in the effort of the journey. In this sense, it can be said that Joseph’s consistent faithfulness in slavery and in prison was every bit as valuable to God as the deliverance he brought while second-in-command in Egypt. Faithfulness is faithfulness, regardless of the scale on which God chooses to use it.

In God’s timetable some people emerge to positions of importance only after a lifetime of struggling in obscurity. Stories of emergence can be multiplied endlessly. I think of Lech Walesa, who, in the aftermath of communism, emerged from the obscurity of a union shipyard to win the 1983 Nobel Peace Prize and eventually, at age forty-seven, to become the president of Poland. Or even more poignantly, I think of Nelson Mandela, unjustly imprisoned for nearly thirty years under the repression of apartheid but who emerged to become the president of South Africa at age seventy-six. But we need develop no more illustrations because Joseph is the illustration par excellence of this type of emergence.

But we must also remember that not everyone emerges. God’s plan for some is to serve him in anonymous obscurity for their entire lives, receiving no recognition and no thanks, gaining no office and enjoying negligible results. We would not recognize their names; we do not know their stories—but they will be told in eternity, because God does not forget. Maybe you are one of their number. Be encouraged that God knows your faithfulness and is doing his work through you.

Breakout Points

THE JOSEPH STORY is not about envy, but the obvious effects that envy had on Joseph’s brothers give us an opportunity to observe the power with which it depraves. They did not just want what Joseph had; they wanted to ruin him. This, C. Plantinga reminds us, is the difference between covetousness and envy.

What an envier wants is not, first of all, what another has; what an envier wants is for another not to have it. . . . To covet is to want somebody else’s good so strongly that one is tempted to steal it. To envy is to resent somebody else’s good so much that one is tempted to destroy it. The coveter has empty hands and wants to fill them with somebody else’s goods. The envier has empty hands and therefore wants to empty the hands of the envied. Envy, moreover, carries overtones of personal resentment: an envier resents not only somebody else’s blessing but also the one who has been blessed.61

Envy has historically been classified as one of seven deadly sins, but in our culture it has, along with lust, established a certain level of prestige in recent times. Our advertising does not teach that envy is good, but that it is good to be envied. Advertising encourages envy (and lust) by implying that if one is inspiring it in someone else, he or she is achieving an admirable thing. If someone tries hard enough to make someone else envious, one is likely eventually to succeed. Unfortunately, when we convince ourselves that someone is trying to make us envious and is therefore earning our resentment, we come to excuse our sins and portray ourselves as victims of someone else’s excesses. Joseph’s brothers would undoubtedly have excused their behavior by the claim that Joseph deserved what he got, that he had earned their spite.

Perhaps none of us would allow our envy to take us as far as Joseph’s brothers, but envy has far more subtle effects that can be just as damaging. Perhaps our envy and resentment of a coworker will not drive us to try to arrange for his or her dismissal or transfer, but it may lead to a steady onslaught of put-downs, insults, and ridicule. We express our resentment by trying to make a colleague look bad at every opportunity, and in the process we hope to make ourselves look better in comparison. We express concern over their poor performance; we pity their naiveté; we chuckle at their blunders; we mock their idiosyncrasies. While we devalue them as individuals, we tacitly put ourselves forward as being beyond such foibles. Such is the more common face of envy, and we need to learn to recognize its pale green in our mirrors if we hope to overcome it.