I guess what I was most touched by this year was how love grew up in the relationships in this family as the years passed and their understanding deepened. How much Joseph loved Benjamin, how Jacob said he would go to his grave mourning over Joseph (all those decades later when the famine drove them to Egypt, Jacob was still mourning the loss of his cherished son), and how dearly Jacob loved Benjamin, all he had left of Rachel. And how the brothers had actually grown to love their father, finally understanding that it would kill him if he lost Benjamin too- how Reuben offered his two sons if anything happened to Benjamin—remember how Reuben had planned to come back and rescue Joseph from the well? But he didn’t have the guts to stand up to his brothers to their faces, and now he seeks redemption. Now he is a father himself and he understands what he did to his own father by letting them do away with Joseph. And he offers his own two sons in Benjamin’s place. Remember also that Jacob named him Benjamin-son of my right hand, reminding everyone how important he was to him. And then Judah took personal responsibility for Benjamin and made good on his promise when he offered himself as a substitute for Benjamin. . . a foreshadowing of the Lion of Judah, substitution for us all.
When Judah made his plea to Joseph (not yet knowing his true identity-and realize that there would be no way to know how his heart had changed if he did know Joseph’s identity- how would we know whether his motive was pure? This is why the tests are so poignant and pivotal-Jospeh wanted to hear the brothers tell the narrative from their perspective-he wanted them to tell the story so that he could see who they were, who they had become, through their narratives).
When Judah made his plea, he said, “His brother is dead, and he is the only one of his mother’s sons left, and his father loves him,” (44:20b). Here I began to weep. (And I had recently lost a dear, dear friend and watched her father lose her five years after he lost her mother).
Judah continues, in verse 30. . “If the boy is not with us when I go back to your servant my father and if my father, whose life is closely bound up with the boy’s life, (31) sees that the boy isn’t there, he will die. . . please let your servant remain here as my lord’s slave in place of the boy. . . (34) No!! Do not let me see the misery that would come upon my father.”
Those boys did suffer from their crime. They had to watch the agony of their father all those years. And Judah cries out for compassion on his father, and on himself, not to have to see how much more agony would be wrought for his father and how it would destroy him. Judah was shining—the love that had grown in his heart was shining brightly and everyone could see it. Here I cried a lot, and re-typing it now I am crying again. Perhaps before I had watched my friend dying of a horrible cancer, I didn’t have the depth of experience with grief that would cause this story to take on this infinitely more meaningful and powerful understanding for me.
This time Judah’s cry pierced my heart and I understood. As I had never understood those hundred other times this story was presented to me. It is not clear how Judah or the others actually felt towards Benjamin himself, but perhaps it does not matter so much. They loved their father, and this meant that they made choices motivated by love about who and what Jacob loved most. Love for one person calls you to love those that they love, as Love for God calls you to love His cherished humanity . . . You cannot love the One without loving the other.
Finally, at the end of Genesis, the point. The point of the whole book perhaps, perhaps of the whole human project. . When Jacob died and the brothers still feared retribution from Joseph, Joseph said, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. So then, don’t be afraid. I will provide for you and your children. And he reassured them and spoke kindly to them.” (50:19-21) And I don’t think Joseph was strutting now. As his brothers had learned to love by loving whom their father loved, Joseph had learned to love his brothers through humility, as well as by protecting them.
There is so much of the gospel in this narrative. A beloved son’s life is taken, but in the taking, their salvation is won. After the taking, watching Jacob’s heart aching, the boys became so aware of their sin. They knew what they deserved. But they had also learned to love through this horrible ordeal. They sought redemption. Reuben offered his sons, Judah offered himself, both foreshadowing the sacrifice of Christ.
And in the end, Jacob lived his last days in the presence of all 12 of his living sons and his one daughter. And they were all in position now to spend 400 years gestating and becoming a great nation, to emerge from its chrysalis in the Exodus. Indeed, what Satan meant for evil, God meant for good.
You cannot catch Him by surprise. You cannot sin so much that He is not still able to take deviance, death, decay, disease or disaster and transform them into something beautiful and glorious, weaving them into the exquisite tapestry of His extravagant love story with humanity. He is ready to weave you in. He's just waiting for your consent. You have not because you ask not. . . (oh, do I detect schema from the book of James working itself into Genesis? Weird how that happens . . . (: ). Ask and you will receive.
And that’s just one or two layers of the Joseph narratives. But let’s move on for now and leave that for the next time you read Genesis.



