5. Joseph and His Siblings: Playing King of the Hill
5
JOSEPH AND HIS SIBLINGS
Joseph is the first modern man of the Bible. He moves seamlessly from his role as spoiled son of a wealthy herdsman to hostage to second in command of Pharaoh’s household. No other individual in Genesis has held such a high position, and in a foreign court at that. There are obstacles along the way, but he swaggers through the setbacks with smugness and self-confidence.
Joseph is the star of his own show. No one else in his colorful cabaret plays more than a minor role. Unlike the three great patriarchs before him, who dance with partners—such luminaries as Lot, Sarah, Hagar, Ishmael, Rebekah, Esau, Rachel, Leah, and Laban—Joseph essentially dances alone on the stage. Indeed, he’s a pro who makes his moves look easy. Even his parents are in the background in his story. None of his brothers or his sister rise above a bit part, nor do Potiphar and his wife. Indeed, his own wife is barely mentioned, nor are the births of his children. No one competes with him for attention, either in Genesis or in subsequent accounts. Joseph steals the show.
And dance he does—around his brothers, showing off his good fortune and telling them his dreams. He dances to the delight of Potiphar, picking up the tempo to escape Potiphar’s wife. He’s even dancing in prison as he interprets dreams and later when he toys with his famine-fleeing brothers. And he dances all the way to the twenty-first century, starring in the long-running musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. (As part of this production, he is accorded an official internet site. The web surfer first finds a greeting: “With a crash of drums and a flash of light we welcome you to the official Joseph website!”) Here he shines in virtual reality like no other biblical figure.
Yet apart from Stephen’s fiery sermon before the Sanhedrin in Acts 7, Joseph is barely mentioned in the New Testament. Here Stephen recounts the story of the Hebrews and their centuries-long quest to settle in the Promised Land. Abraham and Moses are the bookends of the sermon, both given lengthy coverage. The stories of Isaac and Jacob are barely fleshed out, while Joseph again seems to steal the show, though no mention is made of his Technicolor coat.
In comparison, the faith chapter Hebrews 11 seems almost to slight him: “By faith Joseph, when his end was near, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and gave instructions concerning the burial of his bones.”[1]
Joseph’s is a great story but not one of biblical proportions comparable to that of his great-grandfather Abraham, nor that of Moses, Joshua, or David.
Nevertheless, Joseph is abundantly blessed in his posterity. The tribes bearing the names of his two sons (Ephraim and Manasseh) are among the most populous and prosperous of the twelve tribes. Thus Joseph in effect is given the double portion accorded the firstborn son. But for all his father’s favoritism, he will be excluded from Jesus’ genealogy. That distinction will belong to his brother Judah.
Joseph: Favored Son of Jacob
After years of depressing infertility, Rachel finally gives birth to a boy. But such great news does not necessarily bring joy to everyone in Jacob’s large, dysfunctional household. Aunt Leah, it is safe to assume, is not knitting blankets and booties for baby Joseph. The baby-bearing rivalry between his mother and his aunt is palpable. Tension reverberates through every nook and cranny of the household. In this setting little Joseph grows up much doted on by his parents. His mother dies when he is a young boy, and he is quickly designated Papa’s pet, playing the role of spoiled brat.
Indeed, it is no secret that Jacob loves Joseph more than any of his other sons—and blatantly so. The brothers hate Joseph, not least because, at their father’s instructions, he snitches. He goes out in the field with them, all too eager to bring back a bad report to his father. On one such occasion when he is seventeen, he adds salt to their wounds by strutting before them in a handsomely designed multicolored outer garment. It is a fashion statement like none they had ever seen. They know exactly where it came from. Their father had never lavished anything so nice on any of them.
Being the pet, however, is not always an easy role to play. He’s a motherless child confronting a gang of jealous brothers. But Joseph is anything but a pitiable character. In this patriarchal society a father’s favor goes a long way—even more so, God’s.
Before fully enjoying his status as first son, however, Joseph will run the gauntlet in more ways than one. His brothers loathe his arrogance. Not only does Joseph act the dandy and flaunt his duds; he flaunts his dreams. And in an era when dreams are deemed highly significant, he relates them with flair. In one such dream he and his brothers are out in a field gathering bundles of grain. Suddenly his bundle stands straight and tall, as all the other bundles bow down before him. His brothers are incredulous. How could a mere callow youth rule over them? None of them believe what his dream is suggesting, but they hate him even more.
This coat indicated more than preference; it symbolized preeminence and superiority of rank. . . . In the context of our passage I believe that Joseph’s coat was considered to be symbolic of his authority in the same manner as stripes on the sleeve of a military uniform. Joseph’s brothers hated this garment and what it symbolized, for their first act of violence was to strip his coat from him.
Bob Deffinbaugh, “Jacob, Joseph, Jealousy, and a Journey to Egypt”
Does Joseph not realize he is alienating his brothers? Of course he does, and that seems to be the point. He boasts of another dream that carries the same message. In this instance the sun, moon, and eleven stars bow down to him. Now he commands even his father’s attention. This truly is a case of the spoiled child syndrome. His father is irritated and scolds him for the outrageous assumption that even he will be under Joseph’s rule.
Still Joseph remains the favorite and the one his father expects to bring back reports on the others. Indeed, his father sends him off alone to check on his brothers, who are herding their flocks near Shechem. As he searches for them, the open land seems to rise endlessly from the horizon, but there is no sign of his brothers. Finally he meets a man who tells him they have moved on to Dothan. So Joseph continues his search. They see him coming from a distance, and before he approaches, they hatch a scheme to do away with him, disposing of his body in a dry cistern. But Reuben is alarmed and warns them: Whatever you do, don’t injure him.
Everyday Life
Men’s and Women’s Apparel
Clearly Joseph’s coat of many colors was more than casual-Friday attire. Donned in his striking garment, he stood out in a crowd—and in his family. No doubt fashioned out of fine linen and colored with expensive dyes, his was the robe of wealth and royalty or perhaps the priesthood. Typical dress for ordinary citizens, whether at work or travel, would have been coarser and would have featured earth tones. Linen and wool were the fabrics of choice. Leather thongs served as shoes, and some form of turban was the typical head covering.
Women’s garments, like the outer robes of the men, were long and flowing. But their gender-specific fashion was never to be mistaken for that of the other sex. The Mosaic law forbade cross-dressing: “A woman must not wear men’s clothing, nor a man wear women’s clothing, for the LORD your God detests anyone who does this” (Deut. 22:5 NIV).
Both men and women wore girdles, a wide sash that kept the garment closed and tight—sometimes folded and used as a pocket for money. Like men’s fashions, women’s wear was designed for travel and work, whether gleaning in a field or baking over a fire. Women were typically veiled or wore a scarf with their face showing. A veil covering the face was appropriate before a wedding ceremony, but not otherwise. The beauty of women—like Sarah or Rebekah or Rachel—was widely heralded.
A woman’s jewelry and makeup distinguished her attire from a man’s. Jewelry was a status symbol and worn especially for festive occasions.
Unlike in the modern era, fashions in biblical times changed little over the course of generations.
Joseph crosses the field toward them, sporting his extravagant coat. He is prepared to exchange the usual greeting rituals, maybe electrify them with the details of another dream, and make mental notes of their deficiencies to report back to Father Jacob.
But something is wrong. He senses it. Then, without a second’s warning, they grab him, yank off his coat, throw him down a dry well, and go off to have their dinner. What is he thinking at that point? Is he screaming out for mercy? Is he even within earshot of them while they are eating? Is he wishing he had not strutted around in this colorful coat and bragged about his dreams? He knows his brothers, and at this point he’s probably thinking he will be left to suffer a slow, agonizing death.
But then he hears a commotion—a distant caravan on the trade route heading south. And suddenly he’s being pulled out of the cistern as roughly as he was thrown in. Have his brothers had a change of heart? Did Reuben quash the plot to kill him? He quickly realizes that Reuben is nowhere to be seen and his other brothers are forcibly packing him with the caravan headed for Egypt. This, he surely surmises, is no tourist package to visit the pyramids. There is only one reason these traders would want him: to sell him as a slave.
Upon arrival in Egypt, Joseph is quickly recognized as more than a dim-witted field hand. He is so quick and clever and capable that he is soon sent to serve Potiphar, a high official, the captain of Pharaoh’s palace guards. So now Joseph is living in luxury, albeit as a servant. Potiphar senses that there is something different about this young man—that he has some sort of pipeline to God, who bestows blessings on him. In fact, as time passes, Potiphar’s affection for him grows, and he turns over the management of his personal affairs to Joseph. With that move, God prospers Potiphar to the point that he can simply sit back and enjoy the good life.
Like his mother Rachel, Joseph is easy on the eyes. His confidence and good looks are a striking combination that does not go unnoticed by Potiphar’s wife, who is smitten by the handsome young man, albeit a mere servant. She’s a powerful woman possessed of shocking boldness. So she says to Joseph one day, Come to bed with me.
Had he been sending her the wrong signals? Whatever the case, he adamantly refuses to get involved, not because she is not appealing to him. He is more chivalrous than that. Rather, he goes straight to the matter of his loyalty to her husband, explaining that Potiphar treats him with great respect and as an equal, giving him supervision over everything except, of course, his wife. Joseph insists, therefore, that he could not even entertain the thought of betraying him.
Used to getting what she wants, she will not be put off. She keeps trying to seduce him, perhaps thinking he is playing hard to get. Later he is in the house when no one is around. Again she approaches him. They’re alone. No one will find out. Come on, she teases. Then she grabs hold of him; he pulls away, and in the process she yanks his coat off as he escapes.
She is furious and is left holding the coat. How dare the servant say his master treats him as an equal and then haughtily pull away from her advances? This probably isn’t the first time. She may very well have had her way with servants before. She immediately moves into action, running outside screaming hysterically that the Hebrew slave tried to rape her. She has proof; he left his coat behind. The servants are wide eyed. They will quickly spread the news, embellished with every retelling.
That is just the prelude. Next comes the clincher. When Potiphar returns home, she is ready, coat in hand. She repeats the story. The Hebrew slave—the one you brought into this household—would have raped her but for her screaming. She plays the part well. He doesn’t doubt her word and is outraged at Joseph. This too-good-to-be-true servant he had been treating like one of the family has now double-crossed him. That wretched gigolo!
Joseph flees Potiphar’s wife
Potiphar might have called in the executioners, but instead he throws Joseph in jail. As a slave, Joseph has no recourse, no such luck as to be merely fired, downsized, terminated; he’s sent straightaway to a dungeon where the other criminals are housed. His life takes a rapid downward turn.
But through it all God is with him. In fact, God opens the way for him to sidle up to the head jailer. Joseph is a charmer, and soon the top official at the jail puts Joseph in charge of all the others, allowing him to move about freely. Those incarcerated are mainly nondescript royal servants. But then one day rumors are flying as two high officials are brought in: Pharaoh’s head cupbearer and his chief baker. Joseph is in charge of them. Coincidentally, soon after they arrive they both have portentous dreams, on the same night no less.
The next morning Joseph notices they are acting unusually solemn. He inquires. They tell him they are distraught because there is no dream interpreter in jail. Why would they need an interpreter? he asks. Isn’t God the one who interprets dreams? Perhaps they have already gotten wind of his reputation for being close to God, so, without so much as a Huh? they tell him their dreams. The cupbearer dreamed that a vine with three branches was blooming and ripening with bunches of grapes; he squeezed the grapes into grape juice and gave a cup to Pharaoh. That’s it. There’s no punch line. But Joseph is unfazed.
The three branches represent three days. Pharaoh will release him in three days, and he will go back to serving him cups of wine. There is no charge for the favorable interpretation, but Joseph reminds the cupbearer to speak well of him when he is back in his official position.
Now, it’s the head baker’s turn. In his dream he saw three baskets on his head, the top one filled with baked goods. Birds were having a heyday pecking at the pastries. Once again Joseph is on-the-spot ready with an interpretation. The baskets are days. In three days Pharaoh will decapitate the baker, and vultures will devour him like roadkill.
Three days later Pharaoh throws a birthday party for himself. Both the cupbearer and baker are designated to sit at the head table. He toasts the cupbearer, giving him back his position of honor. But his toast to the baker falls flat. He is sent away and beheaded. The cupbearer is ecstatic. He returns to serve the king but forgets entirely about Joseph, still incarcerated within the prison walls.
The weeks and months drag into years—two long years. Then it’s Pharaoh’s turn to have dreams. The first involves cattle. Seven well-fed cows emerge from the Nile, followed by seven gaunt cows. The thin cows eat the fat ones. In the second dream seven withered heads of grain devour seven full heads. These are bizarre dreams, and he calls in the interpreters—the best sages and magicians in the land.
But they are at a loss. They all say they don’t have a clue what the dreams mean. At this point, they are well aware that interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams can be risky business. The cupbearer remembers Joseph and recommends him. Joseph comes forth and promises the Pharaoh that God will wipe away his worries. Turns out that the second dream confirms the first. There will be seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine.
The upshot of all of this, Joseph continues, is that the Pharaoh needs to take immediate action by appointing someone to be in charge of storing up grain for the famine to come. It makes perfect sense to follow this course, and the right man seems obvious:
So Pharaoh commissioned Joseph: “I’m putting you in charge of the entire country of Egypt.” Then Pharaoh removed his signet ring from his finger and slipped it on Joseph’s hand. He outfitted him in robes of the best linen and put a gold chain around his neck. He put the second-in-command chariot at his disposal, and as he rode people shouted “Bravo!”[2]
If that is not enough, Pharaoh emphasizes that no major decision will be made without Joseph’s approval. Moreover, Pharaoh gives him a new Egyptian name and an Egyptian wife, Asenath, the daughter of a royal priest. Never before has a follower of Yahweh held such a high position, and he’s only thirty. Abraham is one hundred by the time Sarah gives birth to the son of promise. Joseph’s grandfather Isaac is forty when his father procures a wife. Father Jacob spends his best years slaving for a sleazy uncle. But Joseph is young, vigorous, immensely popular—and virile. His wife bears him two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim.
Pharaoh’s dreams come true: seven years of plenty, seven years of famine—famine that spreads far beyond Egypt. Joseph oversees everything with earnest efficiency. People from all over the known world come to purchase grain from Egypt’s massive storage facilities.
Then in the midst of his hectic schedule one day he does a double take. There in the front of the line of people waiting to purchase grain are his own brothers. He plays it cool, treats them like strangers—no pleasantries or signs of recognition. They bow before him with no thought that he might be Joseph. He asks the standard questions, and then, out of the blue, accuses them of being spies, persisting in his allegations amid their adamant denials. They insist they are all brothers and tell him about their aged father and the youngest son left back home, but he will have none of it. He throws all ten of them in jail.
After three days, Joseph relents and releases nine of them to return home with food. Simeon is kept as a hostage until they come back with the youngest brother. He makes sure all their money has been surreptitiously returned to them hidden in their bags—no doubt knowing this will only increase their dread.
Time passes; the famine continues, and they return for more grain. Joseph sees his brothers arriving with Benjamin. He calls the steward to bring his brothers into the palace. Nice gesture, but they are edgy, fearing the worst—not knowing that a feast is being prepared for them. They think that they are going to be accused of stealing the money that had been put in their sacks of grain. The steward puts them at ease and then brings out Simeon. Joseph arrives, accepts their gifts, inquires of their father, is introduced to Benjamin, and makes a quick exit before they catch him weeping.
Joseph returns and they all sit down to eat, though he dines alone at his own table. In the spirit of his father, he shows obvious favoritism, ordering the chef to give Benjamin a double helping—Benjamin, who is no doubt used to being doted on by his father.
Before the brothers return to Canaan the following morning, Joseph has seen to it that once again their money has been returned in the sacks of grain; his own silver chalice is placed in Benjamin’s sack of food. So they depart, but no sooner have they set off for home than the steward catches up with them. He accuses them of stealing the chalice; they deny it, swearing death upon any one of them should it be found among their possessions. Benjamin is the guilty one, and he must return to become a slave.
What appalling pranks Joseph plays. He’s toying with them, getting even with them for selling him into slavery. But his father? How can he put his father through such agony? The brothers are beside themselves. They are innocent. They tear their clothes in grief and return to Joseph, throwing themselves before him, pleading for mercy. They say that they will all become his slaves, but, for God’s sake, spare Benjamin. Judah becomes the spokesman and pleads for Benjamin, insisting their father will die.
With that Joseph loses it. He breaks down, wailing so loudly that servants rush to tell the Pharaoh. The brothers are stunned at his weeping, even more so when he reveals who he is. They are both happy and horrified at the same time. After all, they sold him into slavery. But he reassures them—essentially saying: All things work together for good to those who love God.[3] Thus, their selling him paved the way for him to save the whole family from famine.
He tells them to hurry home to their father with the good news. Joseph promises good land for the entire household and all their flocks. The Pharaoh even gets in on the act and sends wagons of provisions from Egypt and everything needed to bring all their possessions south. The brothers are sent away with Benjamin receiving a bonus of hundreds of pieces of silver and several new garments—without a word of grumbling from the older brothers.
By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons, and worshiped as he leaned on the top of his staff.
Hebrews 11:21 (NIV)
When his father’s entire household arrives in Egypt, Joseph helps them settle into the best land. But the famine continues year after year. Land dries up in Egypt and the surrounding regions. Joseph takes good care of his extended family, but the Egyptians have no one to look after them. They trade their cattle for food; then the next year, with no possessions to trade, they give up their farms and agree to become slaves just to eat. “Joseph reduced the people to slavery from one end of Egypt to the other.”[4] But there is a caveat. They can become sharecroppers on their own land, working for the Pharaoh. They can plant with the seed they are allotted and must return one-fifth of their harvest as payment.
The final episodes in Joseph’s life involve his dying father. He brings his sons into his father’s presence, and Jacob continues a generations-long practice of giving the younger son the primary blessing. So despite Joseph’s objections, Jacob blesses Ephraim with his right hand and Manasseh with his left.
Sometime after this, Jacob gives all his sons blessings or curses, as the case may be. His first and favorite son by Rachel surely hears his father’s words with pleasure. His focus has been on worldly wealth, and he will receive a material blessing, but it will be an older brother who receives the real spiritual blessing—one that will have profound consequences. Speaking of Joseph, Jacob begins with words that hark back to a description of his uncle Ishmael:
Joseph is a wild donkey,
a wild donkey by a spring,
spirited donkeys on a hill.
The archers with malice attacked,
shooting their hate-tipped arrows;
But he held steady under fire,
his bow firm, his arms limber,
With the backing of the Champion of Jacob,
the Shepherd, the Rock of Israel.
The God of your father—may he help you![5]
Soon after that, Jacob dies. Joseph throws himself on his father, weeping and kissing him. Then he takes charge of the burial, but only after obtaining permission from the Pharaoh to return to his homeland of Canaan.
After the burial Joseph and his brothers return to Egypt. But the brothers are still very insecure and fearful now that their father is dead. Joseph assures them that he will care for them and their children; they have nothing to fear. He also reminds them that one day they will return to Canaan. When they do, he specifies that his bones be returned to the Land of Promise. He dies at age 110, his body embalmed and laid in a coffin in Egypt.
Dinah: Misadventure in Shechem
Wives of the patriarchs and other important Old Testament figures are often accorded significant space in the text. Daughters and sisters, however, are typically neglected—unless men grab the headlines. So it is with Dinah, whose brutal brothers steal her story.
The account of Dinah, daughter of Leah and Jacob, is a one-episode story, a painful one to recount. She goes off to the nearby town of Shechem—perhaps bored out of her mind—to spend time with some of the women there. The chief, whose name is Shechem, spots her and seduces or rapes her. Whether she may have shown interest in him and given him some sort of signal is pure speculation, but her brothers will later suggest that she was being used as a prostitute, not a mere victim. At any rate Shechem falls head over heels in love and speaks tenderly to her, desiring her for his wife. He arranges for his father to meet with Jacob to ask her hand in marriage.
In the meantime, Dinah’s brothers get news of what has happened, and they are livid. But they listen to the father’s proposal—that the two tribal groups intermarry and that Jacob and his sons settle down nearby and live with them in peace. Then Shechem himself speaks up: “Please, say yes. I’ll pay anything. Set the bridal price as high as you will—the sky’s the limit! Only give me this girl for my wife.”[6]
Jacob’s sons might have pummeled Shechem on the spot, but like Jacob himself, they possess a cruel cunning that will one day come to haunt their father. Rather than show their honest outrage, they pretend the only matter separating their household from Shechem’s is circumcision. If Shechem and his household will become circumcised, then they will intermarry and live together as one extended family. Shechem will do anything for Dinah; he and his father agree for themselves and all the men in the tribe.
Three days after the surgery, the men are still very weak and sore and may have been in an alcohol-induced stupor. It is then that Simeon and Levi take advantage of them, going through the town and murdering every one of them. Then the other brothers arrive and steal the livestock. If that is not enough, they go through the houses, snatching everything of value they can find, taking captive the women and children, bringing Dinah home with them.
Dinah had not been consulted. Indeed, she may have been pleased to become the wife of the adoring Shechem. One can only imagine how traumatized she is by the slaughter. Jacob, too, is traumatized—as much for fear as regret. If the neighboring tribes should unite, they could annihilate his entire household. The sons are unmoved: “Nobody is going to treat our sister like a whore and get by with it.”[7]
Reuben: Oldest Son of Jacob
Reared in an utterly dysfunctional family, he might have broken loose and stood head and shoulders above his brothers, but Reuben, the oldest, does not. His mother is Leah, who desperately longs for his father’s love. Reuben no doubt senses a lack of love himself, especially when his father shows such obvious favoritism for his much younger half brother Joseph, Rachel’s son. Yet as the sons of Jacob go, he possesses more redeeming qualities than most of the rest.
Reuben and Gad ask for land
Though the firstborn son of Jacob, Reuben is not a prominent biblical figure, at least in the ranking of the firstborn in previous generations—Ishmael and Esau. He first emerges as a character in his own right when he is working out in the wheat field and finds some mandrakes and brings them to his mother. A mandrake is a plant with leaves, flowers, and a large bulbous root, all of which are potentially poisonous and may have hallucinogenic qualities. In ancient times the mandrake was thought to make an effective aphrodisiac, a love potion—even to the extent of bringing fertility to an otherwise barren woman. Whether or not Reuben knows why the plant is so valued is not divulged; he is simply gratifying his mother.
Reuben’s name appears in the narrative later on in a rather offhand manner. The text simply states that after Rachel died Jacob moved on and set up camp. While he “was living in that region, Reuben went and slept with his father’s concubine, Bilhah. And [Jacob] heard of what he did.”[8] The reader is left wondering about Reuben’s motive and Jacob’s reaction.
The longest narrative relating to Reuben involves his response to his brothers, who are plotting to get revenge on Joseph. When he learns of the conspiracy, he intervenes—in a less-than-forceful way: Whatever you do, don’t injure him. Thinking he could sneak back later and rescue his little brother, he agrees that they can throw him into the cistern. Then he leaves, perhaps imagining that his absence erases his guilt. While he is away, the brothers yank Joseph out of the cistern, dust him off, do some hard bargaining with traders, and send him off to Egypt for twenty pieces of silver.
As the caravan continues on its way and Reuben returns, he walks over, peers down into the cistern, and howls in despair. He’s beside himself. Joseph is gone. As the oldest of the brothers, he must answer to his father. But the brothers have concocted a plan. They kill a goat and smear the blood all over the multicolored coat, making it look like Joseph has been attacked. Then they all head home and inform their father that they have found a coat and ask him if he thinks it looks like the one he gave to Joseph. He recognizes it immediately and begins to wail. The scheme has worked.
Later, when the brothers go to Egypt for grain, Joseph, whom they do not recognize, accuses them of being spies. He demands Simeon stay behind while the others return home and bring back Benjamin. In a flash, Reuben is flooded with memories of that awful day when Joseph was sold into slavery. To his brothers he hisses: “Didn’t I tell you not to sin against the boy? But you wouldn’t listen! Now we must give an accounting for his blood.”[9]
His brothers were scoundrels, and he knew it. They had most viciously avenged Dinah’s rape by Shechem, a gory mass murder in which he apparently was not involved. Why he would have trusted them enough to walk away, leaving Joseph in their hands, is inexplicable.
Before he dies, Jacob gives his final blessing to Reuben. There is nothing subtle about his words, words that clearly reveal his pent-up resentment. But not because Reuben was less than an upstanding oldest brother who reined in the wickedness of his younger siblings. Rather, Jacob’s words go back to one incident—an incident he took as a grievous personal affront.
Reuben, you’re my firstborn,
my strength, first proof of my manhood,
at the top in honor and at the top in power,
But like a bucket of water spilled,
you’ll be at the top no more,
Because you climbed into your father’s marriage bed,
mounting that couch, and you defiled it.[10]
Simeon and Levi: Two of a Kind
To suggest Simeon (as well as his brother Levi) is a hothead who explodes with anger when their sister Dinah is seduced—or raped—by Shechem is missing the point. When he conspires to kill all the men in the town after they have in good faith agreed to be circumcised, he is nothing short of a cruel, calculating, vicious murderer. With his younger brother Levi, he slaughters the men of Shechem, wives and children crying out in anguish. They show no apparent remorse. When Father Jacob lashes out at his sons, the brothers defend their actions, saying essentially, They deserved what they got.
When the brothers are in Egypt to purchase grain, unknowingly dealing with Joseph, it is Simeon who is selected to stay behind. It is Simeon who is tied up and held as a hostage. He is released when the brothers return with Benjamin. Later Simeon marries a Canaanite woman, who bears him six sons.
Father Jacob, when he offers his benediction before his death, tells it like it is, actually cursing their sins and not sparing them with the consequences.
Simeon and Levi are two of a kind,
ready to fight at the drop of a hat.
I don’t want anything to do with their vendettas,
want no part in their bitter feuds;
They kill men in fits of temper,
slash oxen on a whim.
A curse on their uncontrolled anger,
on their indiscriminate wrath.
I’ll throw them out with the trash;
I’ll shred and scatter them like confetti throughout Israel.[11]
Ironically, Levi, who lived to be 137, would have the distinction of heading the priestly tribe of Levites, with honorable descendants that include the likes of Moses, Samuel, Ezekiel, Ezra, John the Baptist, Matthew, Mark, and Barnabas.
Judah: Leaving Behind a Formidable Legacy
“Jacob had Judah and his brothers.”[12] These startling words pop out of the genealogy of Jesus (through his stepfather Joseph). Judah follows in the line that begins with Abraham and continues with Isaac and Jacob. The student of the Bible is used to the phrase Joseph and his brothers, but here Judah is heralded as the primary son of Jacob. And indeed he is. In fact, if there were a fourth patriarch following Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, it might well be Judah.
From the sons of Jacob come the twelve tribes of Israel, the tribe of Judah holding the distinction of carrying on the line that includes Jesus. Judah is Jacob’s fourth son by Leah and one who holds his own in the biblical text, though not necessarily with a flattering portrait. He does defy his brothers when they plot to kill Joseph. He’s the one who insists they sell him as a slave.
The more lengthy account of Judah relates to his son Onan. Soon after falsely claiming to their father that Joseph is dead, Judah splits from the family and marries a Canaanite woman, the daughter of Shua. They have three sons, Er, Onan, and Shelah. When the boys come of age, Judah arranges for Er to marry Tamar, a local lass. Er does something so bad that God takes his life. What terrible deed he might have committed is left to the reader’s imagination.
Judah then orders second son Onan to have sexual intercourse with Tamar, as was apparently the custom, thus giving his deceased brother progeny. Onan, however, does not wish to father a child that is technically not his. So when he sleeps with Tamar, he spills his semen on the ground. God is not pleased. So Onan goes the way of Er. Now Judah is nervous. God has given the death penalty to his two older sons, and Shelah is still a kid. So he asks Tamar to return home as a widow to reside with her father. There she is to wait for Shelah to grow up—unless of course God puts him to death first.
Widow Tamar returns to her father’s house, and sometime later Judah himself is widowed. He is in Tamar’s neighborhood one day shearing sheep, and Tamar gets wind of it. She suddenly gets an idea. She wants a baby and she wants to carry on her husband’s line. Things have not worked out with Shelah. Now is her chance. So she tosses aside her widow’s garments and dons a veil, disguising herself as a prostitute, and sits by the road. Sure enough, Judah comes along and requests her services. He quickly discovers she’s not an easy mark, so they negotiate a kid goat in payment. But how can she be sure he will actually return with the goat? So she insists on his “personal seal-and-cord” and his staff.
From this business deal she becomes pregnant—exactly as she had hoped. When Judah’s friend returns to deliver the goat, however, she is nowhere to be found. Some three months later, Judah hears by the grapevine that Tamar had sold herself as a prostitute. Judah is furious. Burn her at the stake, he fumes. But before they can do that, she sends word to Judah that the father of her unborn child is the man who owns the seal and staff. So Judah admits he is in the wrong for not allowing her to have a child by Shelah, and he lets her live.
Judah propositioning Tamar
Several months later, though there is no indication he has taken Tamar as a wife or even lives with her, Judah becomes the father of twins. Tamar experiences an unusual—and no doubt difficult—childbirth. The first baby is coming through the birth canal and is so close to delivery that one hand is sticking out. So the midwife ties a red thread around it. Then the baby pulls his hand back and the other twin, Perez, moves ahead of him and is actually born before Zerah, who wears the red string bracelet.
When his father is dying, Judah receives from him an unusually positive blessing, at least in comparison with the unpleasant words rained down on his brothers:
You, Judah, your brothers will praise you:
Your fingers on your enemies’ throat,
while your brothers honor you.
You’re a lion’s cub, Judah,
home fresh from the kill, my son.
Look at him, crouched like a lion, king of beasts;
who dares mess with him?
The scepter shall not leave Judah;
he’ll keep a firm grip on the command staff
Until the ultimate ruler comes
and the nations obey him.[13]
Concluding Observations
Everyone knows and loves the story of Joseph, the crafty younger brother who goes through one ordeal after another and emerges king of the hill. Like the three patriarchs of generations past, he is flawed. But God raised Joseph to a worldly position that none other had ever achieved. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all reach their pinnacle among other sheep and cattle barons in Canaan. But Joseph finds his place managing the wealth of Egypt, and in that capacity saves his entire family and their posterity.
Of the twelve sons, he is from the beginning his father’s favorite, God’s favorite, and our favorite. Bible stories are built around his life—far less so the life of Reuben, Judah, Levi, or Benjamin, who also has a favored status, but not enough to make a good story.
Two fascinating side stories in the broader account of Joseph relate to Dinah and Tamar. Here we are introduced to shocking behavior that includes murder and prostitution as almost part of the course of everyday life.
What is perhaps most striking about the story of Joseph and its ending is that this most favored son of Jacob—and God—will be denied a place in the genealogy of Jesus. That honored spot goes to Judah, a most unlikely candidate. He and his tribe will be prominently featured in the remainder of the Old Testament. Judah is the tribe out of which King David springs, and it becomes the Southern Kingdom after the split from the Northern Kingdom of Israel.
Further Reading
Butler, John G. Joseph: The Patriarch of Character. Bible Biography Series 1. Clinton, IA: LBC Publications, 1993.
Getz, Gene A. Joseph: Overcoming Obstacles through Faithfulness. Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 1996.
Swindoll, Charles. Joseph: A Man of Integrity and Forgiveness. Nashville: Word, 1998.