Dear church,

Somewhere in the human heart is the knowledge of good and evil. We know the difference. Regardless of where we live, to whom we were born, and of how we were raised, we know these things. 

Systemic rape and torture are wrong in any culture and cannot be chalked up to “different norms” from one nation to the next. And the killing of baby boys – that, too, is wrong. It is a moral affront to our Creator. He created life, and it is very good (Genesis 1:31).

The midwives knew this. Somewhere in them was a deep and abiding fear of God. They knew of God, and they respected his ways as true. And they did this in the face of a tyrant king who had power over their lives.

“But the midwives feared God and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them …”

Everyone can recognize and fear God, whether they meet a Christian or not and whether they ever see a Bible or not. “For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:19-20).

This is why we can say all people have sinned, even if they don’t have the written word of God. It is because everyone knows of God through creation. Knowledge of God and of his ways – of moral rightness and wrongness – emerge from the very hearts he created inside of us. 

And we all have a choice, to fear God or to harden our hearts. As we will see as we continue into Exodus, it is possible to harden our hearts against God – and for God to finish the job by hardening our hearts for good. 

But for today, it is enough to remember these midwives who knew right from wrong and who feared God. Morality is not subjective. We don’t get to make it up as we go along. And our common morality as humans, which is the same from China to Colorado, is only further evidence of God’s existence and of his plan for us.

What does your conscience tell you today about your life? Is there anything today you ought to do? Is anyone or anything pushing you to do something you know is wrong? Fear God.

Chris

Dear church,

The book of Genesis leaves us with a sad picture. Two deaths are paraded in front of us. Jacob was carried home to Canaan and buried with his ancestors. Joseph was embalmed and kept in a coffin in Egypt. 

And nothing really seemed settled in this story. The people of Israel were gathered together as shepherds in Goshen, waiting out the famine. They were a long way from home. The promise of having their own land was still far off. And shepherds were despised by the Egyptians, so Israel’s future was very much in doubt now that Joseph was dead. 

And Jacob’s dead body was carried back to Canaan, to the Promised Land. And Joseph’s dead body remained in Egypt. 

Things weren’t as they should be. The conclusion to this story had not happened yet. It still was out there in the future. The happy ending that we would expect to see – an ending that included the people living in the Promised Land – had not yet come to fruition. 

And death still reigned. 

A good friend of our church, Ernie Bradley, died recently. It is a sad thing. He still had much more that he could have done. More birds to watch and more fish to catch and more elk to spot, certainly. And a wife of more than 50 years close to his side. 

But Ernie is gone, and those who know him are left with grief. 

Death leaves us with grief. Always. Death reminds us that things still are not as they should be. Inside of us, I believe, we know death is a foreign thing to humanity, to we who are made in the image of God. It is an unwelcome interloper in our world. 

When death strikes, we know things are not as they should be. The happy ending we all expect is not yet here. 

And we are reminded: Sin has left its mark on us (Romans 6:23). 

And we are reminded again: God has made a way (Romans 6:23).

When I think of Joseph’s body being embalmed and the coffin lid sliding over the top, sealing the box, I think about how we all must make a choice in life. Do we lean into the promises of God – of good and not harm, of eternity instead of temporality, of imperishability instead of wasting?

Are we certain, like Jacob seemed to be, that the future for God’s people is where God says it will be – and not in any old place where we happen find ourselves? Are we always looking forward to where God is preparing a place for us?

In a world of death, we must rely on the words of hope.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (John 14:1-3).

The thing to do with passages like Genesis 50, and with events like the deaths of good friends, is to turn the page. 

The story is not over yet. For every Genesis in God’s creation, there also is an Exodus. For every reminder of our slavery to sin and death, there is an even greater and more lasting realization that sin and death have been overcome by our sinless Savior who rose from the dead. 

Every unsatisfactory ending in the story of God is not actually The Ending. And so we turn the page, and we look for the hand of God.

Chris 

Dear church,

Can you find Christ in the Old Testament? Have you tuned your eye to see him in these old stories that are so precious to Jews and Christians alike?

The blessing of Judah is interesting for a couple of reasons. The first is the way in which Jacob elevates Judah above his three older brothers – Reuben, Simeon, and Levi. It would be Judah’s family who would rule the entire nation. The “scepter” would not depart from the hand of Judah’s descendants. 

Jacob seems to like doing this – to blessing the younger over the older. He bargained for his own older brother’s birthright, and then he outright stole his brother’s blessing. Jacob then blessed Joseph’s sons, but not in the right order. The old prophecy that the older shall serve the younger stuck with Jacob and never left him (Genesis 25:23).

How does this play out in the Christian life? Can you see Christ here, too?

Another reason the blessing of Judah is interesting is the language Jacob uses. “Binding his foal to the vine and his donkey’s colt to the choice vine, he has washed his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes. His eyes are darker than wine, and his teeth are whiter than milk” (Genesis 49:11-12).

Can you see Jesus here?

Jacob’s blessing of Judah binds the entirety of Scripture together, from beginning to middle to end. Check out the following passages.

“Who is this who comes from Edom, in crimsoned garments from Bozrah, he who is splendid in his apparel, marching in the greatness of his strength? ‘It is I, speaking in righteousness, mighty to save.’ Why is your apparel red, and your garments like his who treads in the winepress? ‘I have trodden the winepress alone, and from the peoples no one was with me; I trod them in my anger and trampled them in my wrath; their lifeblood spattered on my garments, and stained all my apparel’” (Isaiah 63:1-3).

“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey” (Zechariah 9:9).

“Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, “The Lord needs them,” and he will send them at once’” (Matthew 21:1-3).

“Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:11-15).

All of those texts are about Jesus Christ. Now listen again to the blessing Jacob gave Judah, who who was an ancestor of Jesus.

“The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until tribute comes to him; and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples. Binding his foal to the vine and his donkey’s colt to the choice vine, he has washed his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes. His eyes are darker than wine, and his teeth whiter than milk” (Genesis 49:10-12).

At the end of this story of the patriarchs – of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob – we have a pointer to the coming of the Messiah. This would be the King of all kings. Nations would come to him with gifts. Every knee would bow. And he would serve as a judge for the people of the earth. He would demand obedience. 

This is but one facet of Jesus Christ. He also is a sacrificial lamb. But we can think pause in this chapter and think of Jesus as our king. 

Are we obedient to King Jesus?

As Americans, we don’t understand the concept of kingship like many other peoples do. We haven’t grown up viewing anyone as supremely authoritative and powerful – a person who demands our respect and obedience. 

In our country, presidents and governors and mayors come and go, and none of them carry that kind of authority. We have “checks and balances” in our country. There is no one person who issues laws, administers justice, and declares war – all on his or her own. 

And so we might not fully understand the concept of Jesus as King. But we should spend some time thinking about it. 

And, returning to the question that started this post, do we see Jesus in the Old Testament? We need to tune our ear to the story of Jesus as we read the Old Testament. If we can’t see him and hear him there, will we be able to see him and hear him in our own lives? 

The Old Testament is not just an old, antiquated, irrelevant book. It is a book, ultimately, about Jesus Christ. I’m glad you are reading it!

Chris 

Dear church,

Joseph’s name isn’t found in the formal list of the twelve tribes of Israel. How could that be? Here was the savior of the nation, the son through whom the whole family was brought together and preserved during the great famine.

You won’t find Joseph’s name in the list of the twelve tribes. He’s not altogether forgotten, obviously. But his name didn’t carry on. In his place are the names of his sons, Manasseh and Ephraim. 

They became sons of Jacob. In essence, Joseph received a double portion of his family’s inheritance through his two sons. But Joseph’s name? It was left behind.

I hope you noticed the parallels between the story of Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manasseh and the story of Isaac blessing Jacob and Esau. The aged father with poor vision blessed the boys. And the younger was given the greater blessing. 

Joseph wanted it to be otherwise, trying to move his father’s right hand to the elder son. But old Jacob would not have it. Jacob was a crafty one. He knew what he was doing. Yes, the younger son would get the blessing.

And those two tribes – Ephraim and Manasseh – became part of the twelve. Standing in for their father, who was the savior of the whole family. Joseph’s name faded to the background.

Israel has had many saviors in its history. We can think of Joseph and Moses and Joshua. We also might think of Esther and Ezra and Nehemiah. Some saviors physically saved the nation from famine, from slavery, from wilderness wanderings, from annihilation. Others saved the nation in a religious or political sense, bringing them back to the land and back to God’s Word. 

We remember the names. But in light of the Savior, those names fade to the background – like Joseph’s. 

There is only one Name. “Therefore God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:9-11).

The other names are important, certainly. But everything stops at Jesus. He’s the only one worthy of worship.

This chapter might be a reminder to keep people in perspective. We all have been influenced by a wide range of teachers, mentors, celebrities, preachers, parents, grandparents, and cultural influencers. We can give too much adoration to people. We can follow these powerful influences in our lives too closely. 

In the end, these individuals must take a back seat to Jesus. There is only one name that causes us to bow our knees.

Chris

Dear church,

All eyes turned to the government. “Save us! We will do anything if you will only save us!” And so the government, of course, did. And the people were put in slavery, and the land became the property of the government. 

The story of Genesis is primarily about God instituting his plan of salvation for the world. And God did this through a specific person – Abraham – and his very interesting family. Starting at Genesis 12, everything has been about this family that carried with it the promises of God. God would offer salvation to the world through this family, and so the welfare of this family was of critical importance. 

Joseph’s story demonstrates how God provided for the family during a brutal seven-year famine that brought nations and tribes to the brink of starvation. The focus of the story is not about those nations and tribes. No, it is about the family of God, the people of Israel.  

The Israelites found themselves settled securely in the land of Goshen, working as shepherds and prospering in their work. Meanwhile, the rest of the world continued to struggle, and they came to Joseph and Pharaoh for food. 

The people gave up their money and their livestock for food. And then, when all other options were exhausted, they offered up their land and their very own freedom for food. “Give us food,” they said. And they got their food, but they gave up everything to get it. 

I am tempted to see Joseph’s famine-relief plan as part of God’s promise to bless the whole world through Abraham’s family. Here, clearly, was a plan that was hatched by a member of Abraham’s family, and the plan did enable many people to survive when they otherwise might have died. 

But this is not how God ultimately planned to offer salvation to the world. Salvation does not come through a government-run famine-relief program. It does not come by filling people’s stomachs with food. 

God’s salvation plan was in motion, but it had not come to fruition in the Book of Genesis. The Messiah, the Savior, still was to come – and he would offer the bread of life (John 6:35).

It is interesting, however, how important the stuff of this physical and material life becomes to us. And it is interesting where we look for a savior. 

If you add $1,400 to $600, you get $2,000. And that number is critically important to the politicians – because they promised everyone, especially the people in Georgia, that they would hand out $2,000 checks to just about everybody. 

And people clamor for their government checks. And the government is promising more than just $2,000 checks. Some in the government want to give monthly checks to families with children. Others want to forgive all student loan debt. 

The people, perhaps, can be heard saying, “Give us food.” 

But we need to be careful and understand that salvation does not come, ultimately, from the government. 

One line of political thought is that humans are inherently good, and if we work hard enough together and put the right systems in place, we can create a utopia with minimal suffering and equitable outcomes for every person. Everyone will have enough, and everyone will be happy.

This, of course, is different from the biblical picture of humanity. We are sinful people. And, through our selfishness and our lust for power, we eventually will destroy any human system we might dream up.

The only answer is Christ, who grants eternal life and a changed heart. Any human system, like the government, is likely to take as much (or more) than it actually gives – as we see in the famine-relief program of Egypt. 

And the more we look to these human systems, the more likely we are to find ourselves enslaved to the system we thought would be our savior. It would have been better for the people to have looked toward that peculiar family of shepherds out in the land of Goshen.

It was from that family that God brought the Savior. 

Chris

Dear church,

We know the long story of Israel. This became a people of slavery and of deliverance. Just as Joseph’s story was one of slavery and then God’s providential salvation, so would Israel’s story be the same.

As we read the Bible, we understand it to be the inspired and authoritative Word of God. And so we look to the Bible to learn the character of God. 

God seems to have a deep desire in his heart for his people to be bound together as one people. The story of Joseph is one of reconciliation – of the children of God finding their way back together and overcoming past hurts. It is a story of perseverance in brotherhood. And, of course, it is a story of forgiveness and repentance.

I’m sure God isn’t particularly happy with his church at this moment in time, with all the divisions between brothers and sisters in Christ. Some of those divisions are warranted. Some factions of “Christianity” have strayed from the way of Christ – from salvation by grace alone and by faith alone.  

But some of the divisions between brothers and sisters are petty and small, and it is not good for the church or for the spread of the gospel.

And so I wonder if God sends his people through trials – like the famine or slavery of old – to enable his people to bind back together as one. 

It was one people who ventured into Egypt under the leadership of the patriarch Jacob, shepherded by the favored son, Joseph, and accompanied by God himself. “I myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I will also bring you up again,” God said.

And so we learn God desires his people to be bound together as one, and God also chooses to reside with his people. He is a God who goes with us. 

God goes down with us into slavery, trial, temptation, persecution, failure. And God brings us up out of it. 

Spend some time today thinking about your own attitude toward the unity of the church or about the trials that you find yourselves in today. Where do you see God going with you in those things. 

“And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

Chris

Dear church,

The story of Joseph reaches its culmination at this point. The big question ask as we read through this story is how Joseph eventually will treat his brothers, the same brothers who sold him into slavery so long ago. 

And it was Judah’s act of self-sacrifice that caused Joseph to break down. Joseph seemed to be looking for character change from his brothers as he accused them of being spies, as he imprisoned them, as he held Simeon captive and sent the other brothers home for Benjamin, as he put their money back in their bags, as he planted his own silver cup in Benjamin’s bag. 

Joseph seemed to be looking for what these men were made of. Had they changed at all in those many years since they threw Joseph into that pit and then sold him off into slavery?

And it seems as if Judah finally convinced Joseph that these men had indeed changed. Something in their hearts had softened. We can’t be sure what it was that caused this softening. Perhaps it was the strain of the famine that had jeopardized the family for those two years. Or perhaps it really was the long, slow burn of regret about what they had done to their brother. We don’t really know.

But the surprising self-sacrifice of Judah – a man whom we might least expect to demonstrate this – was the thing that caused Joseph to break down and cry.

This change in these men – what do we call that? As they protected one another and as they protected their father and as they pleaded their case with Joseph and as they responded to the negative things that kept happening to them – what is this?

There is a word that we use in the church for this kind of thing. It is called repentance. Repentance means a person literally turns around. He or she stops going in one direction and begins to move in the opposite direction. 

Repentance is key to our lives as followers of Jesus Christ. Jesus wants us to repent, to leave behind our own ways and to follow him. 

Jesus’ very first recorded sermon was a very brief one and repentance was a major theme. Mark records it like this: “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel’” (Mark 1:14-15).

Because the kingdom of God was now present on earth – it was “at hand” in the form of the life and ministry of the Son of God, Jesus Christ – people should repent of their evil ways, and they should believe in the good news of Jesus. 

Interestingly, one of the very first things Jesus did in his ministry was to issue a command. And it was a command about behavior. He said, in essence, “Turn around. Stop going that way. Go this way instead.”

I find this interesting because so often when we share the gospel, we don’t talk about behavior. We stop short of telling people to stop doing what they’ve been doing, to stop living the way they have been living. Instead, we assure them of God’s forgiveness of their sins, and we encourage them to believe so that they will go to heaven. 

The assurance of God’s forgiveness and the encouragement to believe are both good things to do. But somewhere in the call of Christ is also a call to repentance, to change one’s ways. Many times, we ignore this as an inconvenient truth of the gospel. You’ll notice many of the mainline denominations of Christianity, as well as many so-called evangelical churches, have embraced things like homosexual lifestyles and transgenderism as holy and good. 

They do this because they have left Jesus and God’s Word behind. They don’t want to tell people to repent. They wantto say, “Neither do I condemn you.” But they don’t want to say, “Go, from now on sin no more” (John 8:11).

In what ways have you repented of sin in your life as you have followed Jesus? Is your life moving in an entirely different direction now that you know him?

Repentance is critical to the life of a follower of Jesus Christ. Listen to the way the apostle Peter responded to the crowd on the day of Pentecost:

“Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, ‘Brothers, what shall we do?’ And Peter said to them, ‘Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit’” (Acts 2:37-38).

Again, repentance is linked closely to our being followers of Jesus Christ – of our becoming followers of Jesus Christ. We are to repent and receive baptism. And we are forgiven for our sins and receive the Holy Spirit. It’s pretty simple. Peter doesn’t leave much room for ambiguity. Repentance is required if we are to become followers of Jesus Christ.

We can’t be followers of Jesus if our lives are not changed, if we are not seeking to please him with our actions. That’s why James said, “faith apart from works is dead” (James 2:26). James said, “But someone will say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’ Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works” (James 2:18). In essence, James said a person doesn’t have faith if he continues to move along in his old ways and never repents of those things and turns around to follow Jesus. Our works are the evidence of our faith.

Well, Joseph got the evidence for which he was looking. Seeing his older brother Judah pleading for the life of Benjamin, and offering to sacrifice his own life for Benjamin, put Joseph in tears. I suspect he barely recognized these men. 

These were not the brothers Joseph knew in his formative years. These brothers loved each other dearly. They were willing to pour out their lives for each other and for their father. These brothers honestly gave back the money that was not theirs. These brothers demonstrated remorse and guilt for the way they had treated Joseph.

Again, we don’t know what caused this change, this repentance. All we can do is see it in their by their works. These men were different.

The question that we Protestant Christians always have to put to bed is this: What comes first – forgiveness or repentance, grace or works? It’s like that nail in your deck that keeps working its way up. You have to keep pounding it down – because we want to make salvation about ourselves. We want to make it about our own works rather than the grace of God. We mostly do this subconsciously, I think. We want to be in control of things when we are not in control of anything, really.

Joseph’s brothers were not in control of anything. Joseph was very much in control. He called the shots. And it is clear to me from this story that forgiveness came before repentance. The free gift of grace came before any of those brothers had shown Joseph one scrap of repentance. 

Why do I believe this? Because if I was Joseph, those men likely would have been dead the moment I laid my eyes on them. If they had thrown me into a pit with the intention of killing me and then decided instead it would be better to sell me into slavery, I would have been upset. And then the long years of languishing in slavery and prison would have worn on me. I would have remembered those brothers. No one deserves to be treated as I was treated. 

And so the fact Joseph didn’t execute his brothers immediately speaks to some kind of forgiveness that was at work in Joseph. He was moving on, and he was letting go, and he was beginning to see God had a purpose in the hardships he faced.

Joseph already had forgiven his brothers by the time he saw them. And he tested them, as God tests and disciplines us. God takes our repentance, and he continues to push and push and push. He pushes us. What are we made of? Have we reoriented our lives toward Him? Have we left the evil of our past lives behind us, and are we continuing to root out the evil in our lives as we find it? 

Repentance is a continual act, not a one-time event.

Listen to what the writer of Hebrews says about this kind of thing: 

“Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary and fainthearted. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons? ‘My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.’ It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:3-11).

God is pruning us through his testing of us, through his disciplining us. Remember the text we discussed recently about Satan’s request to sift Peter and the disciples like wheat (Luke 22:31-32). Who approved that request? Jesus did. The sifting was a test, a moment of seeing what the disciples were made of. Where was their allegiance? What did they really think of Christ? 

This wasn’t an effort to tear them down or to cast them out. No, it was an effort to build them up and to grow them. And Jesus said, “but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” There’s that picture again of repentance, of turning around. Peter would seem to fail the test in his denial of Jesus. But he would turn again. He would repent. And he would be used by God to strengthen the family of faith.

There’s a picture here in this story of Joseph and his brothers that ought to be meaningful to us. Joseph had been watching his brothers. He’d seen their lives. He knew them well. And Joseph pushed everyone out of the room – all the Egyptians, that is. This was a family matter. No one but he and they needed to know the depth of their sins. Like a good ancient Mediterranean family, they concealed one another’s faults.

And Joseph was in that room alone with his brothers. The interpreter was gone, too. And Joseph wept. He wept so loud that everyone on the block could hear him. This was deep grief and deep joy. And Joseph said, in their own language – and I assume it was for the first time – “I am Joseph!”

This was an extraordinarily tender scene. This was a scene of full forgiveness and of the speaking of the truth. “And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life. … And God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors.”

This is the way of God. This is the way of Christ. Peter said, “this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it” (Acts 2:23-24).

God has a plan for his people. It started with Abraham, a single man who responded to God in faith. It grew to encompass an entire nation. And then it reduced down again to a single man, Jesus Christ. 

On the cross, speaking of how we know forgiveness comes first, he looked out on those who were putting him to death. “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

The question we must ask ourselves is whether we have come into that forgiveness. Have we accepted it? Have we reoriented our lives now toward Jesus? Have we repented and believed in the gospel?

Chris

Dear church,

I think something important happened in Genesis 44. Judah offered himself up in place of his brother Benjamin. Do you remember how Cain despised his brother and eventually killed him, and then Cain asked God, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9).

Judah moved in exactly the opposite direction. Judah became his brother’s keeper.

This is pretty amazing when you consider the course of Judah’s life. Think about the way Judah withheld his only son from Tamar, whom he seemed to think was some kind of man-eater. And now Judah was giving himself up for the sake of his brother – and his father.

This is called sacrifice. And perhaps we can understand how it might be fitting that Jesus emerged from the tribe of Judah. 

We don’t know everything that motivated Judah, but we can construct a best-case scenario for the things that drove Judah to do what he did. We can make Judah look pretty good, and I am OK with that.

Judah must have looked around and seen that his family was on the brink of starvation. And his father, Jacob, was worried. He told his sons to go back to Egypt to buy more food. Of course, they could not do that. The overlord in Egypt – Joseph – told them not to come back without their youngest brother, Benjamin, the favored son of Jacob. 

Jacob did not want to let Benjamin go. Benjamin was the remaining son of Jacob’s favorite wife, Rachel. And I suspect Jacob figured the heritage of the family of God would pass through Benjamin. Or perhaps Jacob only hoped so. Being the oldest son wasn’t a guarantee of being the one with the birthright and the blessing, as Jacob’s own life proved. 

So Jacob said he wouldn’t let Benjamin go. 

This was a real predicament. The family was starving. Food was available. They just had to pry Benjamin away from his father for a short period of time. And, of course, we can’t forget the fact that their brother Simeon already was held captive in Egypt. I’m sure Simeon also was hoping Benjamin could come down.

And so Judah must have figured this was his time. At least this is how I picture it. Again, I am happy to paint Judah in the most positive light possible in this moment.

This was Judah’s time to do something important – to put his life aside for the sake of his family’s. 

Perhaps Judah also was remembering his lost brother Joseph. It was Judah’s idea to sell Joseph into slavery (Genesis 37:26-27). 

Maybe Judah looked at his father and looked at his brothers and their wives and children. And Maybe Judah knew in a moment that this was his calling in life – to serve as the substitute, to give his life as a ransom for many.

And he did the same thing once the brothers got to Egypt and Joseph schemed them into a bad situation. Judah was ready to give up his life for Benjamin. “Now therefore, please let your servant (Judah) remain instead of the boy …”

This is powerful stuff. As we will see, it changed the whole trajectory of the family. It showed Joseph what he needed to see about his brothers. They did care for one another. This was a family. 

In the end, Judah’s offering of himself was the catalyst that brought the family of Israel back together. The man who once sold his brother into slavery was offering to go into slavery for the sake of his brother. The man who once abandoned his daughter-in-law into widowhood was asking to be abandoned himself. 

Judah seemed to have made up his mind. He was resolute. He was pouring himself out for his brothers.

The apostle Paul used that terminology in his letter to the Philippians. “Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you” (Philippians 2:17).

Paul gave us the idea of faithful service as a sacrifice. Paul was pouring himself out for God, and he was pouring himself out of the sake of his fellow Christians, his brothers and sisters in the faith. And we know the various ways Paul sacrificed for Christ and the church (2 Corinthians 10:24-28).

Judah and Paul give us a picture of living for a higher purpose, something more lasting than our own individual lives. And that purpose was the gospel of Jesus Christ. Judah didn’t know this in full, of course. But he knew something about brotherhood and family, and he likely knew something about the promise of God to his great-grandfather, Abraham. 

Judah’s sacrificial act was part of the advancing of the gospel of Jesus Christ. And so, of course, was Paul’s.

What about us? Are you willing “to be poured out as a drink offering” for the sake of Jesus Christ and his church?

Sacrifice is not something that comes easily to us, and it gets harder as we go along. 

As children, we sacrifice very little. We are people who simply take. We are consumers. We want, and we receive. We might say “thank you,” and we might not.

As we grow up, we learn to sacrifice ourselves. 

The first major sacrifice many of us make is to our spouses. We learn to set aside our own preferences in order to love this other person. 

Frankly, this is relatively easy. But sacrifices get harder as we go along. 

The next major sacrifice many of us make is for our children. We give up A LOT of things we might like to do for the sake of these little ones. And these little ones may not be grateful. There may be times when they give us headaches in return for our sacrifices. But again, this is relatively easy. But the sacrifices get harder.

The next major sacrifice is likely to involve one’s aging parents. This gets difficult quickly – financially, emotionally, logistically. And some of you know better than I how difficult it can be. And the question becomes at some point: What am I willing to give up in order to honor my parents as I’ve been commanded by God? (Ephesians 6:1-3).

I’ve seen a lot of Christians shirk this command and avoid this sacrifice. This is difficult. Judah didn’t shirk this sacrifice. Neither did Jesus.

I think one of the final major sacrifices for Christians, and this is a persistent one throughout our walk with Christ, is the one we make to our church families. This is the most difficult sacrifice of all, I think – to pour ourselves out as drink offerings for our brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s a difficult sacrifice because it’s so easy to shirk. We can find easy excuses to avoid making sacrifices for our church families.

This sacrifice is harder than sacrificing for our spouses. It’s harder than sacrificing for our children. And it’s harder than sacrificing for our parents. Oftentimes, we don’t even like some of the members of our church families. And again, it is so easy to find reasons to avoid it. Just say you are too busy or too tired, and you are good to go. Sacrifice avoided. The temptation is real and persistent. And that’s what makes the sacrifice so difficult to make.

And I’ve seen a lot of Christians shirk this sacrifice. It is difficult. But Paul didn’t shirk this sacrifice. Neither did Jesus.

So here is a question for you today: What are you willing to give up of yours for the sake of your spouses, your children, your parents, and your church family? Christians are responsible for all these relationships in their lives. If you care to look it up, you will find ample biblical evidence for that. 

And this is the way of Christ (Galatians 2:20).

Chris

Dear church,

Sometimes our efforts at reconciliation are shallow. Our kids sometimes try to say they are sorry to one another, and the “I’m sorry” that we hear sounds something kind of like “I don’t like you at all.” I am sure you know what I mean.

True reconciliation in our relationships requires the rebuilding of trust. And trust takes time. Joseph could have revealed himself to his brothers in an instant, at the first moment, and they probably would have begged him for mercy and forgiveness – and grain. And Joseph always would have wondered how sincere those brothers were.

And so Joseph hatched a plan. He wanted to see who these brothers of his had become. What did they think of their brotherhood? How did they treat one another? Would they indeed come back for Simeon, or would they tell their father that he’d simply lost another son? Joseph wanted to strip them of all insincerity and to see what they were made of.

True reconciliation takes time and frequent interaction between those who have been hurt. Often, we will find that one conversation does not do the trick. Helpful things might be said in one conversation, and it might be a good start, but reconciliation between brothers and sisters is a process of rebuilding trust and affection with one another. 

Forgiveness is the same way. It is not accomplished in an instant. Old feelings do not die easily. Again and again, we must come back to the issue, at least in our minds, and deal with it. 

And this back-and-forth travel of the brothers, the waiting, the renewed conversations, the carrying through with special requests and demands – all of this was part of the process of reconciliation, of building trust, of seeing the other in clarity (even if it was rather one-sided because the brothers had no idea at this point who Joseph was).

And so you might think about your brothers and sisters in Christ and the rubs that sometimes occur in those relationships. If there are no rubs, you aren’t close enough to them yet! Think about how the reconciliation process is going. What more do you need to do? How can the insincerity be stripped away? How can you see one another clearly? How can you rebuild trust?

Chris

Dear church,

“Joseph saw his brothers and recognized them.”

Do you recognize your “brothers” and “sisters”? One of the chief themes of the story of Joseph – and indeed of the whole Bible – is the connectedness of the people of God. In the story of Joseph, we learn whether this chosen family will remain together or not. We learn whether the old ways of betrayal and violence – the ways of Cain – would rule over this family, too. 

The old animosities are present. Joseph locked up the whole bunch of them. He gave them a taste of their own medicine. Here was a new pit, big enough for ten brothers. 

And he could overhear his brothers arguing among themselves, blaming each other. Reuben said, “Did I not tell you not to sin against he boy? But you did not listen.” It was a classic case of, “I told you so.”

This was a troubled family with a troubled history. It was full of people who could not seem to get along. There was jealousy and criticism. And yet the family began to bind together, as we shall see, through trial and tribulation.

It was a famine that brought them all together again. 

And Joseph had a decision to make about his family. Was he still a member of this chosen family or not? Because if he was to be a part of this family, it would require something very important from him. He would be tasked with the heavy work of forgiveness. This burden fell upon him. 

Four-hundred years before God gave the Law through Moses, Joseph had to decide whether to live it. In this way, the Law really is eternal. “You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord” (Leviticus 19:17-18).

And so the question remains, do you recognize your brothers and sisters? The people of God have always been a family. They were a family in the days of Joseph. And they are a family today. “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone” (Ephesians 2:19-20).

The church is a family. We are brothers and sisters. You can find a lot more evidence of this in the New Testament. Ask me about it if you want to know more. 

And yet sometimes churches don’t seem much like a family. The recognition of the brothers and sisters does not seem to occur, and members speak “roughly” to one another, not in disguise but in all seriousness. And brothers and sisters are quite happy sometimes to walk away altogether from their church families over trivial issues. We’ve had this happen in our own church family, and recently.

But the binding of the household of God was never far from the mind of Jesus. We are to forgive our brothers and sisters in Christ as Joseph forgave his own brothers and sisters. Jesus told us reconciliation with our “brothers” is more important even than formal worship. “First be reconciled to your brother, and then come offer your gift” (Matthew 5:23-24).

Jesus commanded his disciples to love one another as he loved them – with selfless service and patience. “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35).

And the story of Joseph and his brothers gives us a picture of the people of God, and of the church. We are a family, siblings in Christ, and we fracture ourselves from time to time. And the long journey of our lives of faith can’t be separated from how we treat each other. 

I have met many Christians who have been disgruntled with their churches – with their brothers and sisters. I’ve been one of them on numerous occasions! But unless some faith-killing doctrinal issue is involved, the answer is not to abandon one another.

There is much that could be said here, and it requires sensitivity. But the story of Joseph and his brothers in these chapters is the first biblical sign of the eternal binding together of the chosen people of God as a family. We are bound together despite all our efforts to split apart.

Chris