Joseph and His Dreams
They said one to another, Behold, this dreamer cometh. — Genesis 37° IQ.
The balances of man are all untrue;
His weight and eyes deceitful; he may write
The story of a pebble or a rock,
The annals of a beetle or a worm;
But the great story of his own vast being,
The hills and valleys of his life, he cannot:
A life made up of but a few short years,
And yet containing in its troubled round
Tempests, and tides, and changes, failures, conquests,
In daily flux and reflux without end.
—Horatius Bonar.
WHEN a Story of providence begins, we never know what the end willbe. In seven chapters will be retold the story whose beginning we have here — a boy coming across the fields garrying a basket. God wanted the family of Israel down in Egypt for a few hundred years. WhyP Was not Canaan promised to them as their own lander Why not keep them there? Several reasons may be given.
Canaan was filled with warlike tribes. While there was only a handful of the Israelites, these tribes let them alone. But they were now to grow rapidly, and as soon as they began to be a multitude, war would be waged against them and they
would have been exterminated. God’s 3 plan, therefore, was to take them away toa place where they could live securely, and grow into a nation, and then to bring them back able to conquer the hordes of Canaan.
There was another reason for getting them away from Canaan. They must grow up separate from the world. They were to be God’s people. They were to receive God’s law and God’s word. From them were to come teachers, singers, prophets. By and by the Messiah, the world’s Redeemer, was to be born of this nation. They must be a holy people, with unmixed blood. If they grew up among the Canaanites this could not be. These tribes would mingle with them. They must be taken to some place where there would be no temptation to inter-marriages and social commingling. The Egyptians were proud and exclusive. They would have no asso-Clations with any foreigners. In Goshen, then, while under the favor and protection of the king, they were effectually shut up by themselves. They were compelled to erow up together, and separate from all other people. There was yet another reason for their removal from Canaan foratime. Canaan was a country of rude and barbaric peoples, without learning, without culture, without the arts and sciences. Egypt was the seat of the world’s highest civilization. It had its great libraries, its colleges, its arts and letters, its culture. By dwelling in Egypt the Israelites would become educated. They would be trained and would learn the arts necessary to fit them for self-government and for being the conservators of the revealed law of God and the teachers of the world. We cannot estimate what the Hebrew nation has been to the world, especially through its laws and its religion. If the people had grown up in Canaan they could never have had the influence they attained.
It was God’s plan, therefore, that the family of Jacob should be taken away from Canaan to Egypt. This boy coming across the fields with a basket is to play a most important part in all this great movement.
He did not know it. We hardly ever know when we are being used of God in doing important things. Joseph had been sent on an errand. He was seventeen — bright, beautiful, innocent, happy. His mother was dead. He had only one own brother — Benjamin, four or five years old. He had ten half-brothers, and with these he was unpopular.
One reason for this unpopularity was that he was his father’s favorite. Doubtless he was better than his brothers. Then he was Rachel’s son — and Jacob loved Rachel most tenderly. Jacob loved Joseph best of his sons and did not hide the fact. Indeed he seems to have taken pains to show it. He gave him a coat which advertised to all that he was his favorite.
Favoritism in a family is most unwise. It is wrong in itself. The dull child, not the bright one, the weak, faulty child, not the strong, perfect one, really needs the
most praise and encouragement, the most help and favor. Then favoritism usually spoils the child, cultivating pride, self-conceit. Not many of us can stand petting, pampering, and flattery. It is unjust to the others, too, to choose one for special preference and distinction. Once more, favoritism naturally draws upon the favorite the,
hatred and envy of the others.
There was a timid knock at a mother’s bedroom door, early one morning. ‘‘Is that you, pet?” asked the mother from within. ‘‘No; it isn’t pet; it’s only me,” was the pained answer. But the sorrowful tone cured the mother. There was no more a ‘‘pet” in that household. There should not be a ‘‘pet”’ in any home.
‘‘Behold, this dreamer cometh.” Joseph had had some dreams. His brothers’ sheaves bowed down to his sheaf. The sun, moon, and stars made obeisance to him. With boyish simplicity he told his dreams, and his brothers never forgave him. The dreams were divine intimations of the boy’s future — they came true by and by. All we need to notice at present, however, is that the dreams and the boy’s telling of them made the brothers hate Joseph the more. The merest hints of his present or possible superiority over them made their envy the more bitter.:
Sixty miles away these brothers were pasturing their flocks. The old father would know how they fared. So he sent Joseph to carry messages and a basket of good things to them, and to bring back word again. It was a long, lonely journey for a boy of his years, but at last he was near the end of his journey. Far off the brothers saw him coming. They knew him by his coat of bright colors. ‘‘ Behold, this dreamer cometh,” they said, one to another. ‘‘ Come now, and let us slay him, and cast him into one of the pits; and we will say, ‘Some evil beast hath devoured him.’” Here we must pause and take a lesson on the fearful danger of allowing envious thoughts to stay even an hour in our heart.
Envy grew to murder in these men — brothers, too. We see here the wisdom of St. Paul’s counsel, not to let the sun go down upon our wrath. We should instantly crush the merest beginnings of envy. The hour of evening prayer, when we bow at God’s feet, should always be a time for getting right all that may have gone wrong in us during the day. Then every feeling of bitterness against any person should be cast out of our heart. It should be a time for forgetting all injury, and unkindness, all hurt done us by anyone.
‘«‘ Life is too short for hate;
We mingle here but one brief day,
Too brief for what we meant to say,
When it is all too late.
«‘ Life is too short for hate; The tree is green that soon shall wave Its leafy plumes above the grave
In that relentless state.”
Joseph was not killed. His errand was
not yet finished. Instead of a tragedy came a providence. Reuben, one of the brothers, was not ready for murder. He proposed that they cast the boy intoadry pit. Reuben intended to come and rescue him afterwards. The suggestion was accepted. So they cast Joseph into the pit, and leaving him there, they went to their accustomed meal. ‘«They sat down to eat bread.”
But there was an Eye on the weeping, Shivering lad, and an Ear that heard his piteous cries in the dark, dank pit. Then there was another providence. The heartless brothers, as they ate and chuckled over their shrewdness in getting the hated dreamer out of their way, looked up and saw acaravan coming. It was going down to Egypt. A bright thought struck one of the brothers. Judah proposed that they sell Joseph to these passing merchants. It would be a good thing for two reasons. They would get rid of the boy’s blood — and blood is always a troublesome thing on one’s hands. It will not washoff. Besides, there would be a little money in the transaction. So the boy was hurriedly drawn up out of
the pit, and after some parleying with the traders, was sold to them for twelve dollars and fifty cents.
The caravan moved away, carrying the dreamer farther onhiserrand. The brothers returned to their unfinished meal. Reuben, who had been waiting apart for an opportunity to rescue Joseph, came, and finding the pit empty, supposed the lad had been killed, and rent his clothes in bitter grief. The other brothers, knowing that some news must be sent to the old father, killed a kid, and dipping the hated coat in the blood, sent it home, innocently explaining: ‘‘We found this coat, in this condition, in the field. Does our father think it is his son’s coat P” The father recognized it and drew the inference the cruel brothers meant him to draw. ‘‘ Joseph is without doubt torn in pieces!” So, for more than twenty years he thought, and all the years were filled with sore mourning.
Dropping the thread of the story for the present, let us gather some practical lessons, as we see the boy carried off to a distant land as a slave.
1. When we say our good-bys at our home doors in the morning, though it be but for a few hours’ separation, as we think, we do not know how long it may be ere we shall meet again. Joseph went out from his father’s door that morning, on a common errand, for but a few days’ absence. We can picture the parting. All the household were much interested in the lad’s journey. All sent messages to the absent brothers. The old grandfather Isaac was still living — a very aged man — and he would have messages and a blessing to send. Little Benjamin would have a deep interest in his big brother’s journey, and would want to go with him. All the family gathered about the door to see Joseph off, and stood there watching him, calling and waving their good-bys, until he was out of sight. But no one was anxious. In a few days Joseph would be home again. No one dreamed that for more than twenty years that bright happy face would not be seen, that some of them should never see him again.
We must not miss the lesson. Even our most casual partings may be for years, may be forever. When we part at our doors in the morning — one to go to business, one to school, one ona short journey, others to stay in the home, we do not know when we shall all look again in each other’s face. We expect to gather at the table at noon, or round the fireside in the evening, — but are we sure of itr Many go out in the morning who never come home at night.
If Jacob and Joseph and the other members of that family had known that morning that for more than a score of years they would not meet again, would not their parting have been very tender? Yet life is quite as uncertain for us and our households as it was for that patriarchal family. Any hurried good-by may be for years, may be final; surely then it should be loving. We should never separate in an angry or impatient mood, with unforgiveness, bitterness, misunderstanding. We should not say our good-bys coldly, carelessly, but always with thoughtful love and gentle feeling.
Suppose that the one who goes out should be brought home dead; or should return to find the one dead whom he left at the door, — if the parting were with harsh word or look or thought, how must the surviving one grieve, when sitting by the flowercovered coffin, to remember the last word or look! The flowers then will not atone for the coldness of the parting on the doorstep, nor will they take the pang out of the: bereft heart. We should make every parting with home loved ones, every briefest good-by, sweet enough, kindly enough, for a last farewell, should it prove to be the last, as it may be.
“If thou dost bid thy friend farewell, But for one night though that farewell may be-Press thou his hand in thine. How canst thou tell how far from thee Fate or caprice may lead his steps, ere that to-morrow comes?
Men have been known lightly to turn the corner of a street,
And days have grown to months,
And months to lagging years, ere they
Have looked in loving eyes again.
Parting at best is underlaid
With tears and pain:
Therefore, lest sudden death should come between,
Or time, or distance, clasp with pressure firm the hand
Of him who goeth forth:
Unseen, fate goeth, too.
Yea, find thou always time to say some earnest word
Between the idle talk, lest with thee henceforth,
Night and day, regret should walk.”
2. We never know when we set out in the morning, what misfortune or calamity may befall us before the night comes. See that happy lad leaving Hebron, and passing on his way to Shechem. He had no apprehension of danger. With a pure heart and a quiet trust in God, he went along without fear. He was expecting a kindly welcome from his brothers, — certainly he never expected for a moment the cruel reception they gave him. After a short visit away, he hoped to return to the old home where there was so muchlove for him. Yet see to what fate he was blindly going!
So we all go on continually, unaware of what lies before us. We spend to-day in gladness, not knowing that to-morrow will bring us tears. We move on through the flowers, heedless of danger, not suspecting that at our next step we may fall into some hidden pit. We boast of our sturdy health, our rugged strength, not dreaming that to-morrow we may be stricken down by disease. We rejoice in our prosperity, unconscious of the fact that disaster may come any hour and sweep it all away. We set out on the happy journey, without thought of the possible accident on the rail, which may leave us crippled or dead.
What is the lesson? Should this uncertainty of all human affairs sadden our lifeP Should we tremble at every step we take lest the next may be into some grief or calamity P No; that is not the lesson. That would take all the joy and all the energy out of life for us. God does not
want us to be unhappy while the sun is shining because by and by it will pass under a cloud. He does not want us to bring back to-morrow’s possible shadows to darken our bright to-day. He does not want us to dim and spoil youth’s gladness by gloomy forecastings of the trials of old age. He wants us to live in to-day, to enjoy its blessings, and do its work well, though to-morrow may bring calamity. ‘« Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.”
How can we do this, you ask, if we know that any bright future has in it possibilities of sudden darkness P Only by calm, quiet, trustful faith in God and obedience to him at every step. We sometimes wish we could see into the future, that we might choose our way and avoid the rough paths. But suppose that Joseph had been told, on his way to Dothan, how his brothers would treat him, and that he would be sold asa slave; would he have gone forward? Would he not have turned backe Then what a wonderful story of providence would have been spoiled! Joseph himself would have missed all that bright future which lay beyond the period of wrongs and cruelties into which he first plunged. Then think what his people would have missed, what the world would have missed.
It would not be well for us to know what is before us; we would often meddle with God’s plans and spoil them, marring our own future and harming others. Nor is it well for us to be made afraid and over-cautious by the thought of our day’s experiences. Yet this uncertainty ought to hold us near the side of Christ at all times. ‘Nothing can ever go really wrong with us if he is leading us and we are quietly following him. Though he take us through pain, misfortune, suffering, it is because that is the path to true blessing and good.
3. Take a lesson on the heartlessness of some human nature. When these brothers had cast Joseph into the pit they sat down to eat bread. Not far from where they were feasting lay their own brother, suffering untold anguish. They had decided not to kill him, but to leave him in this pit to die. They seem to have forgotten that this was no less cruel than if they had slain him outright.
We see how envy freezes out of the heart all warmth of affection, turning it to stone. Unmoved by the thought of their brother’s suffering and indifferent to his cries of anguish which rang in their ears, these men sat down to selfish enjoyment. Let us study the picture closely. A boy who had left his happy home only two or three days since, finds himself in a dark pit or tank. He cannot escape out of it. His feet sink in the mire. Slimy creatures creep about him. He can only die.
Does not a like fate befall many a young man in these daysP That region was full of these pits; life about us is full of worse pits, deeper because their bottom is hell — into which thousands of young men and young women, too, are cast.
Brothers cast Joseph into this tank. There are brothers who evermore are dragging down their brothers into dark snares. Are we our brothers’ keeperP Yes; yet see how many who bear the image of God and who ought to be the loyal guardians of other lives, rest not unless they cause some one to sin. It is a terrible thing to sin, to debauch one’s own conscience, to stain one’s own soul; it is a far worse thing to cause others to sin, to put the cup to clean lips, to whisper impure, unholy words in innocent ears. Yet there are brothers who are leading brothers into snares and causing the young and innocent to fall into evil pits.
Every drinking saloon is a pit, a thousand times darker and more deadly than Joseph’s, into which hundreds of the noble boys and young men of the country are entrapped, never to come out as they went in. Every gambling den is such a pit, where honor and truth and character are the real ventures, where immortal souls are the fortunes lost. Every house of the strange
woman is such a pit. ‘‘ Her feet go down to.death! Her house is the way to hell.”
Men hang red lanterns on the streets where there are pitfalls. Red lights should be hoisted over these pitfalls of death which are open everywhere. He who loves his own soul, who loves peace, honor, purity, life, should shun them. Those who fall into them can be rescued only by the strong hand of Almighty God.
But we are not done with this picture. See the brothers feasting while this lad, their own brother, lies yonder in the pit. ‘‘How cruel! How heartless!” one says. Yes, but is there no such heartlessness in our own lifer The world is full of want, suffering, need. Go where we may, we find anguish and distress. Here, it is sickness. There, the fluttering crape tells of death within. Inside this door it is poverty — little children are crying for bread. Next door it is sin — drunkenness, vice, crime, turning God’s blessing of life to cursing.
oP) THE STORY OF JOSEPH
On all hands are our brothers who have fallen into sin’s pits and are perishing there
in the darkness. There are homes close to
ours where there is no prayer — and that is worse than no bread. There are little children on our streets who are being lured into hell’s pitfalls and no one seems to care. This sad, heart-rending picture of the bright, pure, noble boy, in the pit at Dothan, is no strange sight to heaven’s angels.
What are we doingp Are we any less heartless than were these inhuman brothers? Do we not sit down to our meals and eat them with relish, unmoved by the cries of hunger that come in at our windowsr? ‘‘Heartless,” does any one say they werer Yes; but is much of our Christian charity any betterP In one home, feasting, affluence, luxury; at the back gate, beggary timidly knocking. Out in the chill darkness the child of poverty crouches, peering into the brilliant parlors. But where are the hearts that have pity P
Souls are perishing. Young men are being snared in pits of hell. Young women are being lured away to wretchedness and degradation. Children are being entrapped and dragged into pits of shame.
And what is the church doing? What are the greater number of Christian people doing? Are we trying to rescue these ensnared ones? In our own hearts we have Christ and the joy of his love and grace. We sit down to our communion tables and feast on heavenly provision. We sing our songs. We clasp our hands in Christian love. But do the cries of the perishing outside never break upon our ears as we sit there? Do the visions of our brothers and sisters in their peril and woe never flit across our eyes, as we look with rapture into the blessed face of Jesus? There is wonderful response to calls for physical relief when people are in need. Christian people open their hands to the hungry. But there are sorer, bitterer needs. In sin’s dark pits where they have fallen, there are dying ones, with none to care. Is there no pity in our heart for these? They are all about us — brothers, fallen into pits, brothers, cast into pits by brothers, and with none to heed their cries. If we found a dog, or an ox, or a horse, fallen into a pit, we would hasten to lift it out. Shall we pass by our brothers and not lend a hand to save them P
One tells of a man in a New England town who walks about always with his head bent down as if in sad dejection. Once this man was captain of an ocean vessel. One day, as his ship was speeding through the waters, a signal of distress was observed some distance away. A glass was turned to the spot, and it was seen that there was a man on the piece of wreck. To go to his rescue the ship would have to be stopped and turned back, losing much time. ‘‘ No,” said the. captain; ‘‘some other vessel will pick him up.” He speeded on and was in port in good time, and was commended for his swift passage.
But the captain could not get out of his * mind the memory of that signal of distress - out there on the wild sea, and the sight, through the glass, of that one man on the - piece of wreck — left there to perish. By day and by night that picture haunted him. He has never gone to sea since; and when he walks on the street, people know him by his downcast face, and remember the pathetic story of his last voyage.
As we are hurrying on these busy days, do we see no signals of distress on life’s broad sear Do we hear no cries — no wails of anguish from souls that are out on the angry wavesP Do we heed the signals and hearken to the criesP Do we turn away from our business, our pleasure, our ease, our money-getting, our personal ambitions, to carry rescue to those who are perishing? Or do we hurry on and say that we have no time for these things — no time to try to save our brothers, to lift out of sin’s pits those who have fallen into them, to wipe away a tearP If we do not reach out our hand to help, may not our sorrow in eternity be the memory of cries of distress unheeded? May not the visions of perishing ones neglected haunt us forever
Listen to the words of Scripture: ‘‘If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, ‘Behold, we knew it not;’ doth not he that pondereth the heart consider itp and he that keepeth the soul, doth not he know ite and shall not he render to every man according to his works P”