Joseph: From Pit to Palace, Evil to Good | Advent Day 7

The coat arrived dipped in blood. Jacob recognized it immediately. The garment he had given his favorite son, returned as evidence of death. What the old man could not know was that his son still breathed, sold to merchants heading toward Egypt. Twenty pieces of silver had changed hands. The brothers walked home with blood money in their pockets and a lie on their lips. Giovanni Andrea de Ferrari painted this moment of deception in 1640. Jacob receives the bloodied coat. The colorful garment, now stained dark, fills the center of the composition. Jacob's face contorts with grief. The brothers stand around, their expressions carefully neutral. They have committed themselves to the lie. But every viewer knows what Jacob cannot know: Joseph lives. The coat signifies not ending but beginning. The path to glory runs through apparent tragedy. Years passed. Joseph descended into slavery in Egypt, rose in Potiphar's house, then was thrown into prison on false charges. The pit became a dungeon. The dreamer who saw sheaves bowing before him languished forgotten in an Egyptian jail. Then Pharaoh dreamed, and a cupbearer remembered a Hebrew who understood visions. Joseph stood before Pharaoh, interpreted the coming famine, and rose from prison to palace in a single day. When famine struck, the brothers came to Egypt seeking grain. They bowed before the governor, not recognizing their own brother. The dreams of Joseph's youth came true. The sheaves bowed. The brothers fell on their faces before the one they had sold. Joseph tested them. He accused them of spying. He imprisoned Simeon. He demanded they bring Benjamin. Through all these trials, he watched his brothers change. The men who had sold him callously now pled for Benjamin's freedom. The hardness had cracked. Finally, Joseph revealed himself. "I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?" The brothers stood terrified. The one they had betrayed held absolute power. He could have executed them. He could have enslaved them. He could have repaid every cruelty with interest. Instead, he wept. Joseph wept when he revealed himself. He wept when he saw Benjamin. He wept when he embraced his father. And years later, after Jacob died, he wept again when his brothers came begging for forgiveness. The man who had every right to vengeance chose tears over retaliation. His response provides one of Scripture's most profound theological statements: "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive." The Hebrew word "hashab" appears twice. The brothers "hashab" evil. God "hashab" good. The same verb describes both intentions. Two plans operate simultaneously on the same events. Human wickedness and divine providence interweave without either excusing the other. Do you see the shadow of another story falling across Joseph's tale? An only beloved son. Hated by his brothers. Stripped of his robe. Thrown into a pit. Sold for silver. Falsely accused. Imprisoned though innocent. Raised from the depths to the right hand of power. Providing bread for the very ones who rejected him. The pattern was always there, woven into the fabric of history, waiting to be recognized. At Calvary, Judas betrayed. The Sanhedrin condemned. Pilate washed his hands. Soldiers drove nails. Every participant acted freely, and every action was evil. Yet through their wickedness, salvation came. What humanity meant for evil, God meant for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive. The path from pit to palace took thirteen years. Thirteen years of slavery. Thirteen years of prison. Thirteen years of waiting for dreams to come true. Joseph did not understand during those years. He could not see the pattern forming. Only in retrospect did the meaning emerge. This is providence. Not that God causes evil, but that God incorporates evil into purposes beyond our sight. The suffering servant rises. The crucified one reigns. The grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, and it bears much fruit. Joseph provided bread during famine. He filled the storehouses of Egypt and fed the starving world. Jesus called Himself the bread of life. What Joseph did for one nation, Christ does for all humanity. Your story contains pits too. Betrayals you did not deserve. Years that felt wasted. Wounds inflicted by people who should have protected you. The coat lies bloodied on the ground, and no one explains why. God works in the darkness you do not understand. The pit leads somewhere. The prison has an exit. Your suffering is not the end of the story. Providence weaves threads you cannot see into patterns you will one day recognize. This Advent, release the demand to understand before you trust. Joseph did not know he would save nations when he sat in that dungeon. You do not need to see the ending to believe one exists. The God who meant it for good still means it for good. Your pit is not your grave. Tomorrow we stand with Moses before a bush that burns without being consumed. The God who worked through Joseph's suffering will reveal His name to a fugitive shepherd. The seed continues. The promise advances. Bethlehem draws near.