“There was a young Hebrew man with us in the prison who was a slave of the captain of the guard. We told him our dreams, and he told us what each of our dreams meant.” (Genesis 41:12, bolding mine)
The following verse occurs in the Joseph Narrative in Genesis in the Bible. Joseph is a rags-to-riches story. In it, Joseph who is a young son to an old man who favors him over his brothers, moves from being a rather arrogant tattle-tale, to being second-in-command of the most powerful empire of the ancient world—Egypt. The prelude to Joseph’s elevation is anything but promising. He is sold into slavery in Egypt, and accused of attempted rape by his master’s wife. (She was actually trying to seduce him, but he refused. There are some men with integrity. Not many, perhaps, but some.)
In prison, Joseph became a prison trustee. As such, he seems to have really cared about his fellow prisoners. When he saw two of them, the baker and the cupbearer, looking especially gloomy one morning, he asked them why. It seems that they had both had disturbing dreams the night before. Joseph had correctly interpreted the dreams.
Fast forward two years, assuming that you can actually “fast forward” in prison. Joseph is still in prison. Pharaoh has two disturbing dreams in one night, and none of the magicians and diviners in Egypt know quite what to make of the dreams. Pharaoh calls for his cupbearer to bring him some wine—probably to settle his nerves. The cupbearer remembered Joseph, and speaks of the dream interpreter he had met in prison.
I’ve read this story many times. I thought I knew it pretty well. However, I noticed something different this time. It is about how the cupbearer described Joseph to Pharaoh.
“There was a young Hebrew man with us in the prison who was a slave of the captain of the guard. We told him our dreams, and he told us what each of our dreams meant.” (Genesis 41:12, bolding mine)
The cupbearer does not refer to Joseph as his fellow-prisoner, but as “a slave of the captain of the guard.” The description of the cupbearer might easily be interpreted as meaning that Joseph was not in prison, but rather was at the prison in his “official” capacity as “a servant/slave of the captain of the guard.”
Meier Sternberg has a wonderful title for a chapter in his book, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative. One chapter is entitled “Between the Truth and the Whole Truth.”[1] It would seem that the cupbearer was speaking the truth, but not (perhaps) the whole truth about Joseph.
While we don’t know precisely why the cupbearer described Joseph in this manner, we are told that he did so. This provokes questions that probably have no answers. Was the cupbearer thinking that Pharaoh might be more likely to listen to the servant/slave of the captain of the guard, than he would to a garden-variety prisoner?
Or did the cupbearer not think of Joseph as a prisoner, but as the servant/slave of the captain of the guard? In the ancient world, to be a slave of a person in a high position was, by its very nature, to have an important status.
I wonder how Joseph thought of himself? Did he think of himself as a prisoner, or as something more?
The scriptural text does not tell us, but being brought to a sudden halt by these questions was good for me. These thoughts invited me to think about how I think about and speak of other people. Do I think of them in terms of their weaknesses or their strengths? Do I think of what they can do, or what they can’t do?
And, of course, there is the question of how I think of myself. How do I think of and speak about myself. Am I “just a . . . .”? Or do I say, “I am a . . . !”? Do I recognize that I am and everyone else is, at least, potentially, a servant/slave of the King of kings?
[1] Meir Sternberg, The Poetics of Biblical Narrative (Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University, 1985), 230-263.
I was reading Psalm 113 this morning, during my devotional time, when I noticed an intriguing comment in the NIV Study Bible (page 1141). “This psalm highlights the Lord’s character and nature, especially his ability to accomplish great reversals.”
Have you ever had “a great reversal?” There are certainly bad reversals that are huge. I have had a few of them in my lifetime. Some (no, most) have been caused by own bad choices. Such reversals are painful. But, as someone has said, you can learn a lot more from 10 minutes of real pain than from ten years of pleasure. Still, pain is pain.
But there are also good reversals that are quite large. You lose a job, and immediately find one that you love that also pays more. You lose a close relationship, but come to realize that it was not healthy for you, and that your present relationship is exceedingly good for both of you over the long haul. You are pretty sure that you have a life-threatening health issue, but find out that it is something that can be treated by a course of antibiotics.
The Bible has stories and teachings that deal with both kinds of reversals. Kings in the Old Testament start off well, and then go off the rails. Slaves are liberated, and then start complaining and remembering “the good old days”—when they were slaves!
But then, there are also a lot of great reversals that are also good. Joseph is sold into slavery (by his brothers, no less), but eventually is second in command in Egypt. Eventually, he is even reconciled with his brothers—sort of.
Daniel is thrown into a pit with hungry appetites, but strangely enough, they are fasting that particular night. Come the morning, Daniel walks out of the lions’ den unscathed.
The New Testament is full of reversals as well. Saul (a.k.a., Paul) hounds believers in Jesus to the death, but Saul himself is stalked by the Hound of Heaven, until Saul is run down on the road to Damascus. Paul now became a leading proponent of the very Jesus he had despised.
But the greatest and best reversal of all was Jesus himself. Tortured, crucified, dead, and buried. A few days later, Jesus was alive.
Now, that is a grand reversal! What great reversal do you need in your own life?
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