Genesis 46 | Wayfarer

[God said to Israel] “I am God, the God of your father,” he said. “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down to Egypt with you, and I will surely bring you back again. And Joseph’s own hand will close your eyes.”
Genesis 46:3-4 (NIV)

When I was a kid, many years before Top Gun was a thing, I wanted to be a Naval aviator. I’m not sure how this developed in me, though I’m pretty sure the television show Black Sheep Squadron and the movie Midway were somewhat involved. I wore a sailor cap all the time. I read my Uncle Bud’s Navy manual, and I corresponded with him about his experiences in the Navy during the Korean War. Those are letters I regretfully did not save.

At some point after what seemed like a long period of correspondence in those days, Uncle Bud said he wanted to have a talk with me. He wanted to give me a reality check regarding what life was really like for him in the Navy. He wanted to share with me the things I was not asking him about as I looked at his stories through rose-colored aviator goggles.

My desire to be a Naval aviator quickly died. I consider this a good thing in retrospect.

In today’s chapter, God speaks directly to Israel and assures the elderly patriarch that he should take his entire family and all that he has and go to his son in Egypt. God even foreshadows what will happen next. The clan is going to grow exponentially in Egypt. And God will bring Jacob back. There’s a double meaning in this. Yes, Jacob’s body will be returned and buried in the family tomb. God is also foreshadowing the next chapters in the Great Story when God will deliver and lead the “nation” of Israel’s descendants out of Egypt, through the wilderness, and to the Promised Land in the book Exodus.

What stood out to me, as one who knows the story well, is that God omits any mention of Israel’s descendants being enslaved in Egypt for hundreds of years as they become “a great nation there.” Looking at this as an isolated incident on a merely human level, this seems unjust and unfair. Yet, along my spiritual journey, I have personally learned and observed that struggles, trials, and difficulties are requisites for spiritual maturity in this life. This is not hidden. It’s stated directly in multiple places in multiple ways.

If I had forewarning of every difficulty I have personally faced on my life journey, I’m quite certain I would have opted out of most of them, just like I opted out of my childhood dream of being a Naval aviator. In hindsight, I see now that opting out would have been to my detriment in so many of my life’s struggles. Yes, I would have avoided painfully difficult circumstances, but I also would have avoided the wisdom and spiritual maturity that was forged in me through them. That, I realize from my current waypoint on life’s road, would have been eternally detrimental.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself looking back and being grateful for both stretches of difficulty on life’s road as well as times of deliverance and protection. They are equally important chapters in my story, just as they are in the Great Story. I find it an important reminder as the deliverance of Israel’s clan leads into hundreds of years of slavery between the final chapter of Genesis and the first chapter of Exodus.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Joseph had his chariot made ready and went to Goshen to meet his father Israel. As soon as Joseph appeared before him, he threw his arms around his father and wept for a long time. Genesis 46:29 (NIV)

A week and a half ago the curtain fell on Ah, Wilderness! which will likely be my only chance in life to act in a show by the classic American playwright Eugene O’Neill. In my preparation for the role I learned a lot about the author and the play. Ah, Wilderness! was written in response to critics who said that he couldn’t write a comedy. The family comedy is set in the same town in the same year as his family tragedy Long Days Journey into Night. Scholars say that the two plays are bookends with the tragedy being an autobiographical look at his own broken family and the comedy being a picture of the family of an old girlfriend, the family he wished he’d had.

I also learned that the character I played became the prototype of the modern sit-com father. A bit of a hen-pecked bumbler, the family rolled their eyes at his penchant for repeating the same stories over and over again. He would wax hard about his will only to wane quickly with a quick glare from his wife. He comically couldn’t find the words to have “the talk” with his son, but nontheless won his son’s respect and affection in the attempt.

In my character work for the part I spent a lot of time thinking about being a father. I thought about my father and my grandfathers whom I love and admire. I thought about my own children and my experiences being a dad. Being the “old guy” in a college production, I thought a lot about my fellow young actors whom I came to love with paternal affection. It’s fascinating how God designed life. There is so much of our soul that is intertwined in our relationship, or lack thereof, with our father. I’ve observed that our relationship, or lack thereof, with our earthly father can have a profound affect on the way we see and relate to the Heavenly Father. Some never see it nor do they appear to get past it.

All of these thoughts came to roost in the wee hours this morning as I read of Joseph’s reunion with his father Jacob. What a powerful moment for these two men, father and son as they see one another for the first time in years and tearfully embrace. Jacob holding the son he thought was dead. Joseph longing for the father he’d missed. I thought of the Prodigal Son’s return and how the reunion of Joseph and Jacob were different and similar.

I’m struggling to neatly wrap this post up in a succinctly profound thought this morning. Some days I read the chapter and my heart and mind refuse to land in one place. They just sort of take off into scattered thoughts and ponderings. So, I think I’ll just let them wander aloft.

Have a good day.