What is the Point of Genesis?

The Setting: Hear, O Israel

“Hear O Israel, the Lord — Yahweh — is our God, Yahweh is one.”

We began this series back in February, you may recall, in the book of Deuteronomy. On the plains of Moab, as Moses was saying farewell to the people of God, the people he had led out of Egypt, and through the wilderness. In that farewell sermon, which is the book of Deuteronomy, he left them with this confession, which was to be their daily prayer. He left them not only with the name of their covenant Lord, the name of Yahweh. But he left them also with his resume; his history of covenant dealings with his particular people.

At the most basic level, this is the point that Moses wishes to convey in Genesis. To introduce the people of God to their covenant Lord. To teach them his name, Yahweh, and to strengthen their faith in his promises. To reveal to them his character through what he has done. Their personal Lord, Yahweh, was the creator God over all nations, over all kings. He had proved it in the Exodus, and now, as he was about to settle his people in the land of promise, he would prove it in Canaan.

The Structure

The name of this God included his resume, I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And the ten-book structure of Genesis shows us that it is all about how he became the god of these patriarchs, and how he is NOT the god of their brethren. He is the god of the Shemites, but not the Hamites, and the Japhethites. He is the God of Isaac, but not the Ishmaelites, of Israel, but not Esau’s Edomites.

The Israelites were desperately in need of Genesis, huddled in fear on the far side of the Jordan. Their faith had failed them on the doorstep of the promised land forty years before, their fathers had shrunk back from the rest he had offered them. And as a result, a generation had died in the wilderness, and they had wandered. They had suffered. Genesis reminded them that their God had made them for holy fellowship, that they had been created to dwell in a garden land, watered and provisioned by the hand of God. And it was the maker of heaven and earth who alone would provide this rest.

And we are desperately in need of Genesis, as well. Our reading from Hebrews this morning assures us that in Christ, we have received something better than the Old Testament saints ever possessed, we have received the fulfillment of the promises in which they trusted. Jesus, our high priest, has entered his heavenly rest, where he assures us that every blessing that is his, will be ours. But in possessing Christ, we have not come to the end of our race. We too, like the saints of old, must through faith press on to our heavenly home, we must not let the obstacles of our pilgrimage draw us away from the promises, and the hope, that is ours.

Obviously, the story of Israel’s sons, Joseph and his brothers, provides the background for the great work of Exodus which is to follow. But this story, nicely recapitulated in the closing verses of the book, also illustrates some of the key themes of the book, and it summarizes its message of both Law and Gospel. The premise of Genesis, and of this story, is the horrific, stubborn truth of sin. It is sin that strikes at the very heart of the family of God, and poisons all its relations. This sin creates division and strife among brothers, and is resolved only through the sovereign work of the covenant Lord. Finally, the fruit of this sin, the pilgrimage of the people into Egypt, and ultimately into bondage, will only be solved by a visit from the Lord himself, when he comes to fulfill the oath that he swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Sin was in the world before the Law

Our text today is set immediately after the burial of Jacob. And when Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they worried that Joseph would take this opportunity to pay them back for the evil they had done to him.

Isn’t it amazing how often the death and burial of a parent, particularly the head of a family, not only fails to bring a family together, but often causes division and dischord? We live in an age that is steeped in romantic notions of family, but battles over inheritance, over succession, are not the exception through the course of history, but the rule. From the sons and daughters of kings to the humblest of citizens, remarkably often the death of a loved one is an occasion for a mad rush to see who gets what, whether it is a matter of succeeding to a throne, or who gets which piece of china or silver.

This is a trajedy of human existence, but it is not inexplicable. It is the result of sin, and the countless sins that each and every one of us commits against our closest loved ones. Sins we commit, and suffer, and struggle so much to forgive and forget. “Maybe Joseph will hate us and pay us back for all the evil we did to him.”

The story of the offspring of Jacob, of the sons of Israel, is the story of brother sinning against brother. And this is the story of Genesis, from Cain and Abel, and Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and Ishmael and Isaac, and Jacob and Esau. Sin in Genesis divides the household of God, again and again, but it is not outside of it. It is not as though you can say, over there, in the line of Cain, those ones or wicked. Or, behold, look at the wickedness of the Ishmaelites! Or pity poor Esau and the Edomites that came from his loins. Those red-haired hill people are awful sinners.

No, the sin that takes root in the garden infects the entire race: leaf, stalk, and root. In this sense, the story of Genesis is the story of sin, from beginning to end. And it is the story of the persistence of sin.

Much of the final section of Genesis tells the story of Joseph forcing his brothers to reckon with the seriousness of their sin. He hides his identity, and causes them to suffer the consequences of their long ago betrayal. He deceives them, even causing his father Jacob to suffer as he demands that his brother Benjamin be sent for. This story always frankly puzzled me a little. I don’t think Joseph’s behavior is a model for us… it wouldn’t be good if we asked “What would Joseph Do?” After all, why doesn’t Joseph just rejoice when he sees his brothers? Why doesn’t he rush to assist them?

The closest that we get to an answer is when Reuben cries out to his brothers, “Did I not tell you, ‘Do not sin against the boy;’ and you would not listen? Now comes the reckoning for his blood.” Joseph’s harsh treatment of his brothers is seen by them as God’s own chastening for their sin, and indeed it is. And like all of God’s chastening, it is meant to sanctify them, to lead them to full repentance, to regret the evil things that they have done.

And yet, after Joseph’s words of forgiveness, and years of living together in Egypt, the sin remains. “Joseph, forgive the transgression of your brothers, their sin. They did evil to you.” And Joseph weeps when he hears this. He weeps over the persistent pain inflicted by sin; he weeps over the realization that his brothers have not trusted him these many years, but assumed that he was waiting for Jacob to die before he punished them.

God Meant it For Good

The fruit of sin is real, and it is wicked. It causes division and dischord at the heart of the most intimate of human relationships. Husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, children and their parents, we all do evil things to one another. Every intent of the thoughts of man’s heart is only evil continually. Yikes. This is the verdict of the law, dear Christian. And as the Apostle Paul says, sin was in the world before the Law of God came. The law of God is not some obscure set of religious rules that bind us, causing us to default in this or that area. The written law of God is a mirror, and when it is held up before us it allows us to take a cold hard look at ourselves. From Adam to Moses, Paul says, sin was in the world, and death reigned.

Again and again the world thinks it can cast off the Law of God, and live without its curse upon us, its burden. But Genesis tells us, it tells the Israelites, that God’s law merely showed them the death and disease that had long resided in the heart of man. Without Yahweh, without Christ, death reigns in your heart, because you sin against your wife, your daughter, your parents, your neighbor, and above all, your God.

I think this is why Joseph weeps, and this is what moves him to speak of the goodness of God. “Do not fear, for am I in the place of God?” Notice, Joseph doesn’t say sin has no consequences. Rather, he confesses one of the great truths of Genesis: God, and God alone, is the judge of sin.

It is God who visits the earth in judgment in the flood of Noah, and God who looks down at the tower of Babel and descends yet again. God who destroys Sodom and Gommorah, the cities of the plain, and God who turns Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt. Joseph’s simple statement — Am I in the place of God?  —  is a profound confession of faith that believe it or not is all too often denied.

Am I in the place of God? Joseph’s confession is a model of forgiveness. He does not deny the wickedness of sin. On the contrary, he calls the sin of his brothers evil. How often do we get this wrong, both in our church, and in our culture. We struggle to forgive, without at the same time condoning the action. Or we fear that if we name a sin as evil, it is impossible for us to forgive it. Who are you to judge, the world, and many christians, ever remind us.

And the root problem is that we put ourselves in the place of God. When in fact, God calls us to speak the truth, in love. To identify sin and its wickedness in our own lives, and when appropriate, in the lives of others. But to confess it to him, and to call on his goodness, to seek his forgiveness.

Joseph avoids two errors in recognizing that he is not God. He avoids inflating the status of man, and setting himself up as judge. But he also avoids making God like a mere man, at the mercy of sinners around him. He liberates God from being trapped at the mercy of history. This is always the way when we put ourselves in the place of God, we end up with not only an inflated view of ourselves, but a small God.

The evil of our sin does not constrain God, and indeed, he works their evil for good. Joseph recognizes that good things have come from his slavery, and imprisonment. His suffering has humbled him, not hardened him.

Pilgrimage and the way of the Cross

And Joseph’s journey down into Egypt reflects the greater truth of Israel’s journey into Egypt, and into bondage. Remember, the Lord promised Abraham not only a nation, but a nation that would be enslaved and oppressed for four hundred years in a strange land. And he promised their liberation, and the judgment of their oppressor. What irony, here in the closing of the book, to realize that the bondage of the seed of Abraham, the people of Israel, came about at their own hands? They sold their own brother into the slavery of Egypt, and though the Lord worked it for good, this descent into a strange land contained the kernel for their own slavery and bondage.

What kind of blessing is this strange promise? Why does the Lord promise a Seed to Adam and Eve who will be wounded? Why does he grant Abraham offspring who are oppressed? Why do Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob labor so, with barren wives, and threatening brothers, and deceitful uncles? Why are the people of God so afflicted? Why does the Lord delay, why does he not hear their voice?

Because this is the way of the cross. This is how the Lord visits his afflicted children, and this is how he raises their bones up from the grave. He visits them, and delivers them through their afflictions. He shares in them, and bears them for our sake. The way of the cross testifies to the gravity of our sin, and its necessary punishment. But it also points to the substitute, the greater Isaac who will be bound upon the altar, the greater Jacob who will wrestle and be wounded, the greater Joseph, who will take away our fear, and provide for our comfort.

Future Glory — God Will Surely Visit You

Hebrews 11 paints a picture of the saints, sometimes conquering, sometimes bearing witness throughtorture, mocking, flogging, chains, imprisonment. It’s a strange way that the author to the Hebrews encourages his readers, who are flagging in the faith. But their hope, all of them, their hope was in the name of the Lord. In the resurrection. And we have seen that to be the case also in Genesis. Where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob all believed that the dead could rise again, that their bones would come up from the grave, and be cared for by the Lord.

God will surely visit you. Though you are in bondage, though you are oppressed by sin, god will visit you in Egypt. He has visited us, in Christ.

Sermon text as prepared for delivery; minor errors may remain. Please do not reprint or publish without the written permission of the author.