Joseph and the Gospel of Many Colors: Reading an Old Story in a New Way
176
Joseph and the Gospel of Many Colors: Reading an Old Story in a New Way
176Paperback
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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781433523731 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Crossway |
| Publication date: | 10/31/2013 |
| Pages: | 176 |
| Sales rank: | 642,971 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.40(w) x 8.40(h) x 0.50(d) |
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Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
THE LORD OF THE STORY
Joseph is one of the most beloved characters in the Bible. His story reads like a prime-time special! Jealousy, sibling rivalry, murder plot, betrayal, suffering, deepening despair, apparent deliverance that does not come, all followed by a dramatic turn of events and triumphant ascension. And all that before reunion and restoration! Hollywood wishes it could write stories like that.
Ironically, it is the dramatic nature of Joseph's story, coupled with our addiction to heroic character arcs and story lines, that make it difficult to interpret this well-worn narrative properly. Our tendency is to look at the story in isolation as though it were one of Aesop's fables with a moral at the end: "Let 'em hate you. If you're faithful, you'll end up rich, powerful, and vindicated." However, this interpretation not only misses the mark, it also perverts the very message of the narrative in particular, and the Bible in general. Joseph is not a mere example of what awaits us if we're "good enough." His story, like every story in the Bible, is part of the broader redemptive narrative designed to cause us to recognize the glory of our great God.
A LETTER FROM A JEWESS
I've told this story before, but it bears repeating. My "aha moment" as it relates to preaching the gospel from all of Scripture came about seven years ago when I got a letter from a Jewish woman. This was not an e-mail, a Facebook message, or a Tweet; this was a letter. You know: those things people don't have time to write anymore.
The woman had heard a sermon I preached on an Old Testament passage and was absolutely moved; she was so moved that she felt the need to write me a letter. As I read the letter, I could tell that she was pleasantly surprised by the sermon. As a Conservative Jew, she loved the Bible and was grateful to hear it taught, but she never thought she could get so much out of a message preached by a Gentile.
As I read her letter, my eyes filled with tears. However, these were not tears of joy because the Lord had used my sermon in the life of a Jew. On the contrary, these were tears of horror and shame! As I read her words, all I could think of were Paul's words: "But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1 Cor. 1:23–24). So why wasn't my message a "stumbling block" to this Jew? Was it because she was "being saved"? No. It was because I had not preached Christ!
I had preached a verse-by-verse, expository message from an Old Testament passage, but I hadn't preached the gospel. And this was not unusual! I was steeped in an expository tradition that was so concerned with the "historical/grammatical" exegesis of texts that it became "atomistic" in its execution. Not wanting to wander from my text, I would force myself to "dig deep" and serve up the best, richest morsels I could find. If the passage was "evangelistic," my message was evangelistic. If the text was "discipleship" oriented; then so was my message. If the text was about practical matters, I did not want to "spiritualize" it and make it about something else. I wanted to be "true to the text" no matter what.
The result was Christless moralism: sermons that wouldn't even cut to the heart of one who has rejected Christ in favor of the Law, but instead affirmed them in their horrific error. And there I sat holding the evidence in my hands. Something had to change ... but how? Did I have to give up exposition? Did I have to avoid Old Testament narrative? What was I to do?
The first thing I had to do was come face-to-face with my failure. I had to be honest about what I was doing, and why.
THE MORASS OF MORALISM
In his book Soul Searching, Christian Smith identifies the overarching theological perspective plaguing the religious lives of America's young people as "Moralistic, Therapeutic Deism." This belief is characterized by five major tenets. First, there is a God who created the world. Second, God wants us to be good (as is common to all religions). Third, the main goal in life is to be happy and feel good about one's self. Fourth, God does not need to be particularly involved in our lives unless we need something. Fifth, good people go to heaven when they die.
A quick glance at this list reveals that this worldview dominates not only the spiritual lives of teens; this thinking is ubiquitous! As a result, it becomes natural to look at the Bible as no more than a guide to morality. As a preacher, a parent, an American, and a Christian, I fight this same tendency. My church is filled with sinners; I need to preach morality. My children are disobedient; I need to preach morality. America is going to hell in a handbasket; the church hasn't done its job ... preaching morality. I need to be a better Christian; I need to listen to someone preaching morality. We've replaced the Beatles' famous refrain, "All You Need Is Love" with "All You Need Is Morality."
As a result, we read the Bible in search of morals. Moreover, we become accustomed to — even desirous of — preaching that is moralistic. This, in turn, leads to positive feedback for preachers and teachers who emphasize moralism, which of course leads to more moralistic preaching.
If you are familiar with the story of Joseph at all, you probably think about it in moralistic categories. As a result, you see the utility of the passages in their ability to motivate believers to do better and to show unbelievers the benefits of serving God. And if you're like me, you've rarely, if ever, thought about the gospel-centered/redemptive-historical significance of the narrative. Instead, we tend to be led by several pieces of low-hanging fruit.
The first reason we tend to revert to moralism is the fact that God's law "is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good" (Rom. 7:12). This, however, does not mean that the way we use the law is always good:
Now we know that the law is good, if one uses it lawfully, understanding this, that the law is not laid down for the just but for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and sinners, for the unholy and profane, for those who strike their fathers and mothers, for murderers, the sexually immoral, men who practice homosexuality, enslavers, liars, perjurers, and whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine, in accordance with the gospel of the glory of the blessed God with which I have been entrusted. (1 Tim. 1:8–11)
Thus, when we use the law as a blunt instrument designed to reveal sin, we are safe. However, when we try to use it as a scalpel to circumcise the heart, we miss the mark.
A second temptation to an overreliance on moralism is the prevalence of sin. Of course, sin has always been prevalent. However, as we watch the news from day to day, we are bombarded with horrific examples of man's inhumanity to man. We see the picture of moral degradation described in Romans 1 in high definition clarity. And a love for the law of God coupled with the bombardment of the sinful culture around us often leads to moralistic responses. "We just need to put prayer back in schools." Or, "None of this would happen if Christians would just vote like the Bible tells them to."
Not only do we hear these types of responses all the time; we offer them ourselves. It is as though we grow weary of the gospel. It sounds too redundant to remind my children of their need for Christ; they just need to "stop doing that!" We don't have time to share the gospel with people around us. We do, however, have time to say, "That's wrong." It is much easier to snap back with another rule than it is to do heart surgery with the gospel. And again, the law is good! People do need to pray. My children do need to "stop that!" However, praying, avoiding sin, or doing "good" in itself is not the answer. "We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment" (Isa. 64:6).
PEOPLE WANT MORALISM
We all want black-and-white rules. We want someone to tell us, "This is right ... that is wrong." It's clean. It's simple. It requires little or no self-examination. Consequently, the legalist that resides in every last one of us wants law! Thus, those of us who teach the Bible (and we have the same tendency) get a unique kind of response from people when we give them moralism. "That's good preachin', Pastor!" In my experience, this kind of response almost always follows a law/rule/morality-based statement. It's a sort of, "Attaboy. You sure told them" response. And frankly, it feels good!
We all have to guard against this tendency. We look at the world through a lens that is calibrated for legalism. We see something sinful or unjust, and we know immediately (1) that it is wrong, and (2) what ought to be done instead. This is not wrong, per se; it's just not enough. Sure, Joseph's brothers were wrong to be filled with such hatred toward him. That's a no-brainer. However, did we need the story of Joseph to show us that? Certainly there's another point to be made.
Ultimately, we lean toward moralism because it's easy. Moralism is, as noted earlier, the low-hanging fruit. It's the way we're all wired, and it takes very little effort or creativity to pull off. And it feels good to boot. We all feel better when we're taking the speck out of someone else's eye. Especially when it looks nothing like our plank. In other words, it's easy for me to preach hard against plotting to murder your brother and then throwing him in a pit to be sold into slavery when I've never done anything of the sort.
Several years ago, the Southern Baptist Convention passed a resolution against alcohol consumption. The resolution read: RESOLVED, That we urge that no one be elected to serve as a trustee or member of any entity or committee of the Southern Baptist Convention that is a user of alcoholic beverages.
Aside from the terrible wording of the resolution (i.e., this statement technically excludes anyone who eats chicken marsala), it has zero scriptural support. However, it is incredibly easy to adopt such a resolution. The SBC has never had a problem with drunkenness among its clergy or denominational leaders. The SBC is by and large a teetotaling bunch. Hence, it took absolutely no courage to pass this statement.
On the other hand, the SBC considered another resolution the same year calling for integrity in church membership. That resolution did not pass. What would it have required? Simply that churches be honest about how many members they have and clean up their roles of inactive, nonexistent members that inflate their numbers. The drinking which nobody does (the speck) was much easier to deal with than the bearing false witness (the log) that characterizes the overwhelming majority of the churches in the Convention.
The SBC is not alone in this hypocrisy. You and I do the exact same thing every time we read the Bible! More importantly, we act out our hypocrisy in practical ways every day of our lives. We look for specks in our children, our coworkers, our teammates, and our friends. And our hypocrisy infects the way we read the Bible in general, and Old Testament narrative in particular.
A MORALISTIC READING OF JOSEPH
According to a moralistic reading, Genesis 37 is a lesson in jealousy and bad parenting. We see the consequences of favoritism on Jacob's part and bitterness on the part of Joseph's brothers. The moral of the story is (1) don't pick favorites among your children, and (2) don't be jealous of your brothers.
Chapter 38 is a classic case of hypocrisy and immorality on the part of Judah. And, while it doesn't seem to fit in the narrative, the moral point is clear: adulterers will be found out. However, the heroine in this story is also an adulteress, but that little messy detail is often overlooked since it interferes with the obvious moral point.
This leads us to what are by far the most popular portions of the narrative. In chapter 39, Joseph shows himself faithful to both the Lord and to his master, Potiphar, when he causes Potiphar's house to prosper and later resists the advances of Potiphar's wife. In chapter 40 we see Joseph rise to prominence once again, this time in prison! The usual moral here, as in the previous chapter, has to do with faithfulness in difficult circumstances. Joseph becomes a shining example of the way believers ought to live when the going gets tough.
Chapter 41 is definitely the apex of Joseph's character arc. In this chapter we see the familiar interpretation of dreams, the fulfillment of a promise made by his fellow inmate, and the ultimate expression of the recurring theme of being placed over the affairs of his captors. Only this time the one who puts Joseph in charge is the most powerful man in the world! Joseph has remained faithful, and God has rewarded him.
This stands as an example to all those who have been maligned or mistreated by sinful men. Just hang in there like Joseph, and you will get your reward in the end. Moreover, if you look closely, you will find several leadership principles that defined Joseph's life and aided his ascension.
Chapters 42–44 offer us a glimpse at the proper response to newfound power and position. I read one sermon that outlined more than half a dozen kinds of "power" we see exhibited in the life of Joseph. There is positional, situational, psychological, spiritual, and several other kinds of power. Joseph is the picture of power in these chapters, and there is much to be learned from him here if we are going to exercise power effectively. We could go on, but I think you get the point.
WHAT'S WRONG WITH ALL OF THIS?
Everything we've observed about the Joseph narrative is true. And anyone teaching the story in a manner commensurate with the brief outline I've just given would be showing faithfulness to the text. Joseph was faithful. His brothers were sinful. He was rewarded with position, power, and prominence. All true! However, let me ask you a question. What separates that telling of the story from any other moral tale? More importantly, where is the good news? We've been reminded again and again of our need to be faithful. But where's the hope that we can? Are we simply supposed to try harder so that God can reward us?
Also, do you notice the materialistic bent? Joseph was faithful to his father and he got sold into slavery. He was faithful to his master and he got sent to prison. He was faithful in the prison and he got promoted to second-in-command to Pharaoh, himself. There you have it: faithfulness = material wealth, success, notoriety, etc. How is that different from a Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist, or plain old secular, irreligious tale? How is it distinct from Aesop's Fables? Because it mentions God as the source of the success? Is that all? There must be something more!
Finding that something more involves changing the way we read the Bible. If we read the Bible like a book of principles and principals, we will find precisely that. However, if we remember a few interpretive keys, we will find much more.
Indicatives and Imperatives
One of the most important hermeneutical keys we can use in interpreting biblical texts is the distinction between indicatives and imperatives. Technically, these terms refer to the "mood" of verbs (i.e., the indicative mood and the imperative mood). The indicative mood points to what something is, while the imperative mood points to what something does.
For example, "Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling" (Phil. 2:12). This is a classic imperative. "Work out" is a command, an imperative for the reader. However, the very next verse is in the indicative mood: "for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure" (v. 13). Here we are not told to "do" anything. We are merely told of the reality that makes it possible for us to do anything.
Sometimes we find entire books divided by this distinction. For example, the first three chapters of Ephesians are indicative, but the last three, introduced by a "therefore" clause, contain imperatives based on the indicatives in the first half. This distinction is important for a couple of reasons.
First, if we mistake indicatives for imperatives, we will attempt to work for that which we can never accomplish. An indicative tells us who we are because of what God has done. Pursuing that in and of ourselves is a form of works righteousness. For example, the indicative declaration "the wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion" (Prov. 28:1) is not an invitation to work toward becoming bolder. It is an indicative statement about what God has done in the life of the righteous. Thus, we can no more make ourselves bold than we can make ourselves righteous!
Second, if we mistake imperatives for indicatives, we will leave undone that which we ought to do. Imperatives are commands. They are to be done. When we read, "You shall not steal" (Ex. 20:15), we are reading an imperative, a command. Of course, the indicatives are still essential, since they motivate, equip, and enable us to accomplish the imperatives. Remember, "None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God" (Rom. 3:10–11). So when we read imperatives that involve understanding, seeking, or being righteous, we know that there are indicatives that must be in place first.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Joseph and the Gospel of Many Colors"
by .
Copyright © 2013 Voddie Baucham Jr..
Excerpted by permission of Good News Publishers.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Introduction 9
1 The Lord of the Story 15
2 Land, Seed, Covenant 29
3 Juxtaposition (Genesis 37-38) 45
4 Providence (Genesis 39-40) 59
5 Exaltation (Genesis 41) 73
6 Examination (Genesis 42) 87
7 Transformation (Genesis 43-44) 101
8 Revelation (Genesis 45-46) 115
9 Reunion (Genesis 47-48) 131
10 Reconciliation (Genesis 49-50) 145
Notes 159
Recommended Reading 161
General Index 163
Scripture Index 165
What People are Saying About This
“Here is a popular-level reading of the life of Joseph as it is found in Genesis—an approach that reads the narrative both within the framework of Genesis and within the framework of the entire Bible. It avoids mere moralism, but does not overlook the morals implicit in the story; it avoids finding Jesus hiding behind every verse in some earnest but skewed and uncontrolled appeal to typology, yet it shows how the narrative prepares the way for Jesus. In many ways these chapters foster quiet, patient, faithful Bible reading, while driving readers toward the gospel.”—D. A. Carson, Theologian-at-Large, The Gospel Coalition
“Voddie Baucham has thrown a spanner in the works of those writers and preachers who see little more in the biblical narratives than unrelated moral and spiritual lessons that are ingeniously applied directly to us. By identifying vital theological dimensions that unite the whole Joseph story within Genesis, he steers us towards the christological significance of this much loved, and much misapplied, account of the sons of Jacob.”—Graeme Goldsworthy, Former Lecturer in Old Testament, Biblical Theology, and Hermeneutics, Moore Theological College
“During the final days with his followers, Jesus made an astonishing statement. He said, in essence, that he was the subject of all the Old Testament stories, laws, and prophecies. Following the lead of our infallible interpreter, Voddie Baucham has taken the well-worn story of Joseph and consistently drawn a portrait of our Savior through it. With its meticulous care, warm affections, and deep theological acumen, this book will introduce you to the story of Jacob’s son, Joseph, but also to the more important story of Joseph’s Savior, the Lord Jesus. I love the thought of using this book in a Sunday school class or for family or personal devotions. Seriously, buy it.”—Elyse Fitzpatrick, coauthor, Worthy: Celebrating the Value of Women
“You may have heard the story many times, but perhaps not quite as you will in this book. Voddie Baucham displays the brilliant colors of the gospel with uncommon richness.”—Michael Horton, J. Gresham Machen Professor of Systematic Theology and Apologetics, Westminster Seminary California; author, Core Christianity
“The story of Joseph is one of the most intriguing and instructive found in all the Old Testament. Deception, betrayal, deprivation, and injustice, as well as mercy, forgiveness, providence, and love are all prominently displayed in its telling. Undergirding, permeating, and guiding the events of Joseph’s life, however, is the gospel of Jesus Christ. With careful exegesis, theological precision, and pastoral sensitivity, Baucham explains Joseph’s story with a freshness that highlights the glorious grace of God in the gospel.”—Thomas Ascol, Executive Director, Founders Ministries; Pastor, Grace Baptist Church, Cape Coral, Florida
“Voddie’s emphasis on redemptive history seen in the life of Joseph helps shift our eyes from a focus on Joseph and the events in his life alone to the greater reality—the gospel on display through his life.”—Sherrill Lanier, Women’s Ministry Advisor for Christian Education and Publications, PCA