Joseph and His Brothers

Moreover he kissed all his brethren, and wept upon them: and after that his brethren talked with him. — Genesis 45: 15.

For life and all it yields of joy or woe, And hope and fear, — believe the aged friend, — Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love, How love might be, hath been indeed and is; And that we hold thenceforth to the uttermost — Such prize despite the envy of the world.

—Robert Browning.

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IT was a startling revelation to the sons of Israel, when from the lips of the great ruler of Egypt there fell the words: ‘‘I am Joseph.” No wonder they could not answer him. No wonder they were troubled at his presence.

But let us bring upthestory. There were seven years of plenty, and then the seven hungry years began. The famine extended to Canaan, where Jacob lived. He and his household began to be in want. Then Jacob heard that there was corn in Egypt. There is a beautiful legend, preserved by the rabbins, which says that one day, in a tender mood, Joseph scattered a few kernels of grain from his full garners in Goshen upon the Nile. These grains were carried to the

sea, on the river’s broad bosom, and were 107 then wafted by winds and currents, until they were lodged on the shores of Canaan, thus telling Jacob of the plenty that was along the Nile.

In some way, at least, the old man learned that there was food in Egypt, and that the hungry people of all lands were flocking thither to buy bread. So he sent his sons to obtain provision for his household. The brothers seem to have been slow to start on this journey. Their father had to urge them. ‘‘Why do ye look one upon another?” he asked them. ‘‘ Get you down thither, and buy for us from thence; that we may live, and not die.” But we are not surprised that they did not set out eagerly for Egypt. It was into Egypt they had sold their brother. That was more than twenty years ago, but the memory was fresh as ever. There are some things we cannot forget. The mention of Egypt was like a sword in the flesh of these strong men. No wonder they had to be urged to Start.

Only ten went. The father would not trust Benjamin away from himself.

Arriving in Egypt, they were ushered into the presence of the governor, and bowed down themselves before him, with their faces totheearth. So Joseph’s dreams were fulfilled at last. He knew his brothers. At first he treated them harshly, made himself strange to them, spoke roughly to them. Why did he do this? Was it resentment? Was he repaying the evil they had done to him so long before? No; he was proving them. He wanted to know if they had grown better through the long years. So he tested them at different points, in different ways.

If one has wronged us, treated us unjustly, shown toward us a spirit of envy, or of ingratitude, forgiveness is not all the duty we owe him. We have a duty to the man’s soul. We should seek the curein him of the evil disposition which caused him to sin against us. Weshouldtry to make it impossible for him to repeat the wrong to another, Joseph sought to know before he revealed himself to them whether his brothers had been cured of the badness of heart which twenty years before had led them to treat him so cruelly. Were they penitent, or hardened yet? He found very soon that they were suffering the bitter pain of remorse. He put them for three days into prison, alleging that they were spies. Again they stood before him. Not supposing that he understood their Hebrew language, they talked among themselves:

‘* They said one to another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon tS.

Joseph heard their words and understood what they said. He saw that they remembered their sin against him. He saw, too, that they were feeling the sense of remorse and conscious guilt, and believed that the calamity which had now befallen them was

in retribution for the great crime they had committed against their brother.

Remember that he was now testing them, to find out whether they were the same men who had dealt so cruelly with him twenty-two years before. The first testing was encouraging. They seemed to be truly penitent. Joseph was deeply affected. The record says ‘‘ he turned himself about from them and wept.” This shows that even at this first interview his heart was tender and loving toward them. Why did he not then make himself known to them at once Instead of doing this, however, he suppressed his heart’s deep feeling, restrained his longing to say to them, ‘‘] am Joseph,” and to forgive them, and turned back to them sternly, saying that one of them must stay in prison while the others returned home with food for their households. Then he took Simeon and bound him before their eyes. Why was this seeming severity, when his heart was so full of love for them P He was not yet sure enough of the genuineness of their repentance. Perhaps it was the prison that had wrought this penitence in them. Perhaps they were not really changed in their heart and character. Mere sorrow for wrongdoing is not enough. One may have bitter remorse for a bad past, and yet not be cured of the spirit which did the evil. Would these men do now the same thing, over which they were grieving so bitterly P Joseph was not yet sure, and he would not make the mistake of revealing himself to them and forgiving them, until he was Satisfied on this point. So he sent them away.

Nine brothers went back to Hebron. On their way home they were startled at finding their money in their sacks with the food. Guilt makes such cowards of men that every new incident fills them with new terror. Finding the money made the brothers afraid. They interpreted this bit of generosity as evidence of enmity, a trick to get some cause of harming them. Even a sweet bird note sounds like a warning of retribution to a conscience in remorse. Our own heart makes our world to us. Peace in the bosom changes a wilderness to a garden, thorns to roses, discordstoharmonies. But remorse makes a hell of the loveliest spot on God’s footstool.

The brothers went home. At length they are back again in Egypt, and Benjamin is with them. They had a kindly reception. The governor asked after the welfare of their father — ‘‘the old man of whom ye spoke.” He saw Benjamin and his heart yearned upon his brother, and he sought where to weep. He could not keep back the tears, and he entered his own room and there gave vent to his feelings. Gaining control over his emotions, he washed his face, to remove the traces of his tears, and came again to his brothers. He had them dine with him. Still he did not make himself known to them. He let them start homeward again. They are happy now. Benjamin is safe in their midst — that fear is past, the fear that he would be retained.

Simeon is free, too, out of prison and with the others.

But they have not gone far before they are suddenly overtaken by an Egyptian officer who charges them with the theft of Joseph’s silver cup. Sack after sack is taken down and searched, in the order of the men’s ages. At last the missing treasure is found in Benjamin’s sack. Instantly dismay seizes all the brothers. They did not know that Benjamin was innocent, that Joseph had ordered the cup to be put into his sack for a purpose. All the circumstances were against him. It looked as if he were a thief — this youngest brother of theirs, of whom their father was so proud. Here he was, bringing disgrace upon all of them. Now mark where the test of character comes in. If these older brothers had been the same men they were twenty-two years before, they would have made short, sharp work with Benjamin. But what did they dor

They rent their clothes in their sorrow, and went back, all of them, to the city. They hastened to Joseph’s house and fell down before him on the ground. Joseph spoke sharply to them:

‘“What deed is this that ye have done?”

There was another outburst of penitence: ‘“‘What shall we say unto my lord? how shall we clear ourselves? God hath found out the iniquity of thy servants: behold, we are my lord’s servants, both we, and he also with whom the cup is found.” They do not denounce Benjamin and propose to give him up. They will all stand together.

Joseph said he could not punish the innocent with the guilty. ‘‘The man in whose hand the cup is found, he shall be my servant; and as for you, get you up in peace unto your father.”

Here was the test. Would these ten men

go away and leave Benjamin alone, in the grasp of Egyptian justice, to suffer for his supposed offense? Twenty-two years ago they would have done it. Instead of this, however, we have one of the finest scenes in all human history. These brothers will not desert Benjamin. The speech of Judah, as he pleads for Benjamin, is one of the noblest pieces of natural eloquence in any literature, sacred or profane.

‘Then Judah came near unto him, and said, Oh my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, speak a word in my lord’s ears, and let not thine anger burn against thy servant: for thou art even as Pharaoh. My lord asked his servants, saying, Have ye a father, or a brother? And we said unto my lord, We have a father, an old man, and a child of his old age, a little one; and his brother is dead, and he alone is left of his mother, and his father loveth him. And thou saidst unto thy servants, Bring him down unto me, that I may set mine eyes upon him. And we said unto my lord, The lad cannot leave his father: for if he should leave his father, his father would die. And thou saidst unto thy servants, Except your youngest brother come down with you, ye shall see my face no more. And it came to a pass when we came up unto thy servant my father, we told him the words of my lord. And our father said, Go again, and buy us a little food. And we said, We cannot go down: if our youngest brother be with us, then will we go down: for we may not see the man’s face, except our youngest brother be with us. And thy servant my father said unto us, Ye know that my wife bare me two sons: and the one went out from me, and I said, Surely he is torn in pieces; and I saw him not since: and if ye take this also from me, and mischief befall him, ye shall bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Now therefore when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us; seeing that his life is bound up in the lad’s life; it shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will die: and thy servants shall bring down the gray hairs of thy servant our father with sorrow to the grave. For thy servant became surety for the lad unto my father, saying, If I bring him not unto thee, then I shall bear the blame to my father forever. Now therefore, let thy servant, I pray thee, abide instead of the lad a bondman to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brethren. For how shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with meP lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father.”

No one can read these pathetic words of Judah, as he pleads for his brother Benjamin, and not see that these men have been wonderfully changed since that day when they sold another brother into bondage, and were deaf to all his piteous cries and entreaties. Judah evidently speaks for all his brothers. We notice particularly, in these men, a tender regard for their father, which they had not shown before. They had seen his uncomforted sorrow all the years since they had robbed him of Joseph; now they cannot endure to cause him even a single pang. Their gentle thought for him is really beautiful. We notice also a tender love for their youngest brother, which contrasts wonderfully with their hard-hearted cruelty toward Joseph that

day at Dothan. As they were then, they

would not have cared what might happen to Benjamin; now Judah begs to take the boy’s place and bear his punishment, staying in Egypt as the governor’s slave, that Benjamin may return home.

Joseph was now satisfied. At their first visit he had seen their deep consciousness of guilt, as they remembered their sin

against him. In this final testing he saw

more — he saw that they were changed men. The grace of God had been at work in them. The sin of twenty-two years ago they could not now commit. Penitence had wrought deeply in them, softening their hearts. They were prepared now to stand together as brothers and together to lay the foundation of national life.

The time has come therefore for disclosure. All doubts are gone from Joseph’s mind. As soon as Judah had finished his eloquent plea, Joseph caused all strangers and attendants to go out of the room. No eye must witness the sacred scene which was about to be enacted. When they were altogether alone — those twelve men — Joseph, with streaming eyes and loud weeping made himself known to his brothers. ‘‘Tam Joseph,” he said to them.

Who can imagine their feelings as these words fell upon their ears? First there must have been terror mingled with the amazement. Again all their sin against their brother rose before them. Here was Joseph whom they had so cruelly wronged. He was lord of Egypt, and they were in his power; what would he do with them? Twenty-two years ago they had put him in the pit to die, and then had hastily lifted him out only to sell him as a slave. They had supposed that they were now done with that ‘‘dreamer.” But here they are before him in utterly reversed position. Is it any wonder they stood dumb in the presence of Joseph, or that they could not answer him, or that they were troubled?

But Joseph’s heart was too full to prolong the scene. ‘‘Come near to me,” he said. ‘lam Joseph your brother, whom ye sold into Egypt.” But he hastened to comfort them. ‘‘And now be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life... to preserve you a remnant in the earth, and to save you alive by a great deliverance.” Then he added, ‘‘So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God.” Then he bade them hasten to his father with the news and to return, all of them, with their father and their families, to dwell in Egypt, to be near to him. The wonderful scene closes with Joseph’s falling upon Benjamin’s neck in loving embrace, then kissing all his brothers and weeping with them in the joy of reconciliation. The barriers were all now broken down. The old sin was forgiven. The long-sundered family was brought together again. Estrangement had been healed by love and peace.

Here we may pause in the narrative, to gather some of the practical lessons.

Joseph’s dealing with his brothers is an illustration of Christ’s dealing with us when we have sinned. When the brothers came the first time to Egypt and stood before Joseph, he was ready to forgive them, to be reconciled to them, and to take them into his favor. When he heard them talk in confidence among themselves of their sin against him, he was so moved that he had to turn away from them and weep. There was no bitterness even then in his heart toward them. Yet he did not at once say to them, ‘‘I am Joseph,” and fall upon their necks in forgiving love. He restrained his tender feelings and impulses. He let them go away and for months longer remain uncomforted by the forgiveness which was even then warm in his heart. He did it because he believed it were better for them that he should do this. He was not satisfied that they had yet reached the experience in which forgiveness would be the full, rich blessing it should be to them.

In all this we have an illustration of the way Christ ofttimes deals with us in forgiving us. There is forgiveness in his heart the moment we stand before him. We have not to excite and kindle love in him. He loves us in our sins. He is always ready to forgive. But ofttimes he leads the penitent through experience after experience, before he reveals himself in full, rich love. These brothers were sorry for their sin when they first stood before Joseph. ‘““We are verily guilty,” they said among themselves.

That was confession. But had their sorrow for their sin cured them of their wickedness of heart? Joseph was not sure at first. Mere consciousness of guilt is not enough when we stand before Christ. It is not enough to say, ‘“‘I have sinned.” There is a sorrow of the world which works death. It is a sorrow because the sin is found out, because it brings shame and reproach upon us, because it hurts us among men, or because it must be punished. Such penitence as this does not satisfy Christ. He does not yet declare himself to the man who stands before him, weeping over his sins, but with heart unchanged. He does not yet forgive him. He may even seem cold to him and may treat him with apparent harshness. The sorrow for sin which God wants and waits for is godly sorrow, which works amendment of life, which is not only sorry for past sins, but which can no more repeat those sins. When Joseph learned at last that his brothers were new men, gentle-hearted toward their father whom they had once so cruelly and with such heartlessness, wronged, and loving and noble-spirited toward their brother, instead of manifesting the spirit of envy and wickedness which they had shown toward himself, he quickly revealed his identity to them, forgave them, took them into his heart, and lavished his generous love upon them.

So Christ does. When our repentance is

ee ee sincere, true and deep, he reveals himself to us, makes himself known to us, grants us forgiveness and gives us his peace. As Joseph invited his brothers to come to Egypt, where they would be near him and where he could nourish them, so Jesus invites his forgiven ones into fellowship with him, into the family of God, to share all his blessedness and glory.

This story teaches us the duty of forgiving those who have wronged us. It would be hard to conceive of any sorer wrong that could be done to another than was done to Joseph by his brothers. There was no cause for it, either, no provocation. It began in a feeling of envy because their father loved him more than he loved them and weakly showed his preference. It was aggravated by the boy’s dreams which he in a naive and childlike way told them. Envy grew to hate, and hate ripened into ) the intention of murder, which by God’s providence was softened into selling as a slave. Cruel wrong, it was, and causeless.

But we have seen how freely and how beautifully it was forgiven.

There does not appear ever to have been any revengeful feeling in Joseph’s breast toward his brothers. He seems to have kept his heart free from any trace of bitterness and full of sweet, gentle love, through the years. When his brothers bowed before him, and he had them in his power, all his old affection for them revived. He forgave them completely. He took them to the old place in his love. He confessed them as his brothers before the king. He had them come and live close beside him, and nourished them with affectionate tenderness.

Surely it is a beautiful picture — Joseph loving and blessing those who had sought to kill him, who had caused him years of sorrow. It is more than a mere human sweetness and gentleness of heart that does this. Centuries before Christ came to teach the world the blessedness of forgiving, before the cross was raised up, before the gospel was written, Joseph had learned the whole lesson. How? He must have lived close to the heart of God all those years, and thus he became the interpreter of the divine forgiveness.

And the lesson is for us. We live more than as many years after Christ’s birth as Joseph lived before he came: have we learned this lesson of forgiveness as well as Joseph had learned it? Are there any of us who have been ill-used by brothers as he wasp Are we keeping our own heart sweet and loving under the ill-usage P Or have we allowed bitterness to creep in, a feeling of resentment, a desire for revenger Let us study the picture of this badly-treated brother forgiving those who had so sorely wronged him, until its spirit sinks into the depths of our spirit. Life is too short for us to carry in our heart, even for one little day, a feeling of bitterness.

As we forgive, forgive us ’ — so we pray. We are bidden to ask God’s pardon every day, According to the measure of our own — What if the lips pray when the heart is stone?

Christ might have bidden us beseech of heaven:

‘ May we forgive, Lord, as we are forgiven!’

But no! He set his bounds of pardon thus

That love, through need, might be more generous. What if we shut our ears to begging breath

And turn our backs on him who trespasseth? How do we then forgive our debtors, friend? That daily prayer we ought to comprehend.

Our measure of forgiveness, small or great,

Will be returned to us, or soon, or late.”

We are taught here, too, that God uses even men’s evil to help advance his kingdom. Joseph said to his brothers: ‘Be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither; for God did send me before you to preserve life.” We can readily see how blessing and good came out of all the evil done by the brothers of Joseph. Had not Joseph been sent to Egypt, no preparation would have been made for the famine. Even the men who did the cruel wrong themselves ate the bread which through their sin had been laid up. This is a wonderful truth. God’s hand is on everything. No evil deed of worst men is allowed to run riot among ’ the divine plans and purposes, or to defeat his love and grace. This does not make sin less sinful; but it assures us that even the wrath of man shall be made to praise God.

It has been said that some of the greatest treasures in heaven will be blunders which God’s children have made when trying their best to do something to show their love. The soiled and puckered handkerchief the little girl is trying to hem, because she loves her mother, has a value away beyond anything a seamstress can do. Many a piece of marred work, marred by one who wanted to help Christ, and did her best, will have immeasurable value in God’s sight. Many of us in looking back over our life can see many things we thought were mistakes, but which now appear to have been the very best things we could have done. It seems as if the ‘‘ mistakes”’ were all the while intended to be there, so thoroughly have they become part of the fabric of our life and work.

Indeed we may go further, and say that the errors, yes, even the sins of our life, when repented of, forsaken and forgiven, are taken into the hand of the great Master builder, and used in the temple walls. The result of Peter’s fall was so transmuted that it became a great blessing to him. Some one says, ‘‘God does not need our sins to work out his good intentions, but we give him little other material;” and it is surely a comfort to us in our penitence to know that even out of such material he can build beauty and good. It is a comfort to know that while we cannot undo our wrong deeds, God can keep them from undoing us and can even use them in his kingdom.

This truth should not make any one think less penitently of his sins. We may not do evil that good may come, depending upon God to bring good out of it. This would be presumption and blasphemy. The lesson is for those who have sinned and done wrong and foolish things. They never can be as if they had not done evil. The memory of transgression will always give pain. Penitence is not the best thing — innocence is far better. But, having sinned, penitence is blessed; and even out of the hurt and the marring God ‘can build good. ‘““Ye meant it for evil; but God meant it unto good.”

We must all stand one day before him whom by our sins we are grieving and wronging these passing days. The brothers never expected to meet again the lad whom they had sold away as a slave. But one day, in Egypt, they found themselves face to face with him, and heard from his lips the startling words, ‘‘I am Joseph.” Pilate had Jesus before him, pale and despised, and sent him to his cross. In judgment, Pilate will lift up his eyes on Jesus and hear the words, ‘‘] am Jesus.” Are you wronging Christe? Are you grieving him, rejecting hime Are you harming any of his little ones? There will be a day when you shall stand before a great white throne, and shall hear from the lips of him who shall sit there, ‘‘I] am Jesus.” Let us so treat Christ now that when he reveals himself to us in the judgment, it may not terrify us, but give us joy to hear the precious words pronounced by his lips.