as a lord, honoring his position, believing he might be holy, hopefully expecting him to be just and righteous, the brothers approached fearfully, trembling before someone believed to be unknown, maybe honored as a god by his pagan subjects.
Joseph: (speaking through an interpreter, never in the language of Hebrews) Do you band of strangers always bow down to ones in authority, following some custom in your land, or maybe fulfilling some prophetic vision, one your family may have had, thinking the heavens proclaim me, one unknown to you, righteous, every nation seeing me in glory, or do you worship idols, thinking I brag about worthless gods, expecting we all must bow down to them?
Reuben: Speaking as the oldest, we have no such custom, but fear we must honor one we seek to do business with, following our God's instructions to venerate leader's positions, ones anointed by Him to serve His creation
Joseph: Where are you from?
Reuben: We come from the land of Canaan, parched, in want, its land scorched, fomenting famine, denying growth for anything, forcing us to travel here, seeking to buy food, hearing your wisdom has led you to husband your grain, saving it from greedy accumulations by wanting hoarders.
Joseph: (aside to Job) These are my brothers, having flagrantly violated God's charge to be their brother's keeper, having justified their hatred for me, accusing me of pride, proclaiming my visions lorded myself over them, being arrogant as my father's favorite, adored as the first son of his favorite wife, coveting the garment he gave me, a coat of no special mention, but visioned by them as one of splendor. How can I be civil to them?
Job: Accommodate them as any stranger coming in quest of food, knowing the Lord would never deny them. Continue speaking in your Egyptian tongue, and knowing their language I will continue as your interpreter.
Joseph: Suspecting this band of brothers to be spies, they come to determine the weakness of our land, sneaking in as a group, trusting each one will see what another may overlook. I consider you to be spies.
Reuben: No, my lord, but to buy food have your servants come, never as spies enlisted for some military design, but merely as brothers, the sons of one man in Canaan. We are your servants, always having been honest men, never thinking to come as spies.
Joseph: Convince me you are not spies, coming to see how your ravaged country can sneak in and find a way to steal our wealth.
Reuben: We are twelve brothers, ten of whom you see, with one, the youngest, remaining with our father, and one being with us no more. We come on behalf of our family, no one else, begging you to trust us, ten men intending no conspiracy to steal anything of yours, never planning to discover your strength and weaknesses, journeying all this way only to buy food for our families.
Joseph: I must test you, to examine your experience, to discern whether you have ever feared the unknown of being in a pit, a dungeon for three days, before being resurrected to freedom, trying you with an ordeal, giving me time to judge your intent, watching if your maturity might reflect you have wisdom molded by honesty, testing me as well, my patience in waiting for an answer, determining an outcome for your fate.
Job: (aside to Joseph) Are you testing your brothers or God, looking for reasons to justify vengeance, convincing the Lord to lend you retribution, conferred by Him to satisfy your wrath, gleefully finding the time has come, most fitting to punish their wicked deed, but perhaps with consequences, sealing your fate, sending you to perdition? Wait the three days, hoping them to pass swiftly, giving you time to avoid a blunder, a tempest of impetuosity, to reveal whether love or retribution will rule your passion, to discover God's intent for your action, which may not be for striking revenge, remembering His admonition, telling all vengeance is only His to claim.
Joseph: Who would have ever thought I would see my family again. Have them do the things I say, seeing love prevail as God commands, living with no need for vengeance, for if I must fear God, I love Him more.
Bystander: Job continues to translate Joseph's following words for his brothers.
Job: Show us you are upright by accepting this offer, truly one of grace and mercy, sending you into limbo for a mere three days, giving him time to speak with his Lord, praying to Him, searching His wisdom for answers.
Reuben: Your master is generous but he demands strange terms, judging us for commitment to a pit of uncertainty, giving us little reason why. Let me consult with my brothers, even though our fate is already decided.
Judah: Why do they wish to isolate us in idle time, certain to be useless except for fearful imaginations, resurrecting of our past, bringing back troubling deeds, reminding us of actions our conscience labored for years to forget, forcing our memory to recall, beseeching us to confess, admitting we are truly guilty concerning our brother, for we still picture his anguished soul, pleading with us in vain, but we silenced our hearing, considering nothing he said, drowning out his pleas with our unvoiced responses, assuring we never intended to consider his begging supplications, and now our circumstances have come full circle, recycling our distress to a new form, changing us from being stricken with envy to become victims deserving retribution, realizing invisible vengeance now comes as a cloud to darken our day, one hoping for something better, acknowledging distress indeed comes upon us?
Reuben: My innocence is claimed for your deeds. Did I not speak to you, saying, do not sin against the boy, but you would not listen? Therefore behold, blood of a lamb returns now to condemn us, requiring us to endure his trials, perhaps soon compelling us to confess all, but never able to right our wrongs, never cleansing the blood from his shredded garment.
Judah: Thinking you are blameless, confess your complicity in telling father of Joseph's fate, lying, presenting evidence to suggest his death, concealing the truth hidden by his bloody coat. Did we ever confess our sinful deed to cast out Joseph from memory's presence forever?
Job: I hear you hide a story from telling. I once possessed dignified blamelessness, known to be upright, believing all my afflictions were unjustly inflicted, complaining to deaf ears, proclaiming God's mercy spoke nothing to satisfy my understanding, compelling me to heed prophet’s unwanted words, counseling me with their own wisdom, convincing me of unworthiness, denouncing me for never striving to become righteous, hiding my unworthiness behind a veil of blamelessness, concealing my true self, but transparent to God who was instructing the Holy Spirit, speaking directions I never chose to hear. Finally all my afflictions descended on me, bringing me to suffer, brought to bear as for all humans, awakening me to the Lord's demands, telling me to confess my sins, paving a new way, the only one leading to righteousness, forcing me to forget any claim for blamelessness, once shielding me from accountability by the world, but never protecting me from condemnation by God. Offer confession, trusting it as your only bridge to righteousness.
Reuben: We are not ready for your suggestion, broadcasting our wrong doings for all to see, degrading our character, making us like everyone else, damaging our dignity, destroying our pride, tarnishing our identity as God's chosen ones.
Job: My master has decided, needing three days for wisdom to consider your fate.
Bystander: (aside) Joseph already knew what he would do, never needing three days for a decision, but asking for three days to confirm his judgment would be from the Lord.
Joseph: (aside to Job) I forgave my brothers long ago, but can I ever know if they will acknowledge their misdeeds, exiling me from a happy life, away from my loved ones. The innocent trial I propose is viewed by them as a calamity, holding them hostage to time needed for deliberations, as I wait on hearing from the Lord, trusting He would resolve all with a new opportunity, one never intended for retribution, one He would favorably entertain, knowing my desire to reunite with my young brother, commanding the band of brothers to return with this beloved one, last in coming, following me from my mother's womb, coming as most-favored from my beloved source. Why would they hide him from me now? Can this be of God's doing? Could he be not well in body and spir
it, trained to deceitful living as his brothers, or maybe he is enslaved to a mediocre life, serving their pleasures, denying his needs, hiding their displeasure of him from father as they did with me, scheming to make his life one of nothingness. Can I trust them without seeing my youngest brother?
Job: My master confiding in me, offering you brothers a merciful answer, wanting to grant your request, acknowledges you must truly have needs, coming so far to save your family. Repeating his words, he tells you: Do this and you will live, for I fear God, asking you if you are honest men to let one of your brothers remain in prison, and l will release the rest of you, letting you go to carry grain for alleviating the famine of your households, but only on the promise of returning, bringing your youngest brother with, verifying your word's integrity, assuring none of you will die.
Reuben: He says he fears God, but we know nothing about his gods, witnessing them as nothing more than speechless idols, silent figures of wood and stone, unable to be trusted, absurdly vying with our only true God.
Job: Conversing together, the brothers agree to the master's proposal, believing they have no other choice, confirming their decision in unity, telling me, In truth we are guilty, accepting blame, being envious in our youth, despising favored ones, witnessing distress from hatred laid on innocent souls, begging for mercy, hoping for grace to save our afflicted family, certain to be unforgiven, condemned to be dysfunctional, each one with a legacy of marred blessings, tarnishing their blamelessness with silence, beginning now to distress them greater, reaching out for someone to listen, but they found no one there, only silence as when Joseph sought attention, isolated in the pit where no one could hear, bringing on the brothers an instigation of their own doing.
Reuben: I told told my brothers not to sin against the lad? But they would not listen. So now there comes a reckoning for his blood,
Job: Are you prepared yet to clean out your part in this deed, confessing your role, or is it to late, knowing a blameless one can soon forget how to repent, leaving a sin to stain your family forever?
Judah: Proven to be still lacking compassion, ignoring our needs, we experience agony in your demands.
Bystander: How many trials does it take to awaken one to the need for confession? God knows and He patiently delivers them until sinners relent, giving up their will to Him, abandoning their wants and desires.
Joseph: Whatever it takes, God directs me to show my brothers the folly of their pride, lasting beyond time, from the day their envy was satisfied. I am satisfied with their present distress, tribulations deserved in coming, driving them beyond the comfort of their blamelessness. No vengeance can change them, and I weep now, praying they might hear God's calling for confession, acknowledging no hatred has ever been in my blood, for enmity can never be reconciled with doing God's will.
Job: The master instructs his servants to bind the brother called Simeon, doing it for you all to see, sending him to prison, waiting for love to remove his fetters, releasing him from the brother's denials of the one no more, scattering the remaining band of brothers, never knowing if they will be seen again, sending them back to the uncertainty of their blamelessness.
Joseph: Look upon my brothers. Do they show any more concern for Simeon in bondage than they did for me in chains? Are they concerned they might have one less of their kind? Would they hasten to return because of love for him? God only knows, revealing if they are their brother's keeper.
Reuben: Simeon leaves us for a time, who knows how long, maybe until our longing for him drives us to return, perhaps when our food is gone, hoping our love for him will never be abandoned.
Bystander: On Joseph's orders, every returning brother's sack was filled with grain, and the money each brought to buy grain was put into each one's sack without their knowledge. What was this intended to do? Ones living fearfully all their lives, threatened by unacceptable relationships, acknowledging this jeopardizes any integrity they claim, especially now for their dealings in Egypt, marking them dishonest unless they immediately return to remedy this perception as a mistake, might wonder what consequences would ensue upon discovery of their true nature? Would returning the money immediately not be too late, to never believe it was stolen rather than a mistake, returning it in confession rather than as an oversight, perhaps correcting it as an error requiring no confession, needing nothing for which to repent, allowing them to continue their home-bound journey. After one day's departure, stopping for rest, one of the brothers, opening his sack, was astonished with what he found.
Reuben: With my burdened beast, tired and hungry, slowing, wanting to trudge no further, signaling me to stop for rest, withholding any more progress, unwilling to suffer another step, I satisfied her, and on opening my sack, ready to scoop out a share of grain, look what I find, money glittering greater than any amber harvest, golden coins somehow finding there way into my sack, sneaking their way back into my possession, here in the mouth of my pack. Trembling at this undeserved treasure, a finding one should rejoice in seeing, I shutter what it might mean for me, an ominous fortune or sinister misfortune, pleading to God for He knows the answer, What is this You have done to me?
Bystander: This may be God's grace, the priceless gift nothing can barter, generosity providing His promised abundance, assuring His faithfulness for all. Is your trust in Him sufficient always, believing your find might be an undeserved reward, or perhaps He is testing you, determining if your faith is aroused by fear, needed to build your trust, making it fearless, never for fearing, trusting faith can never tolerate fear, suspecting it is of His doing?
Judah: We cannot return and must move on, reminded by the master's most compelling command: Return with your youngest brother, most important for him but never for our understanding, suggesting his need to understand our relationships more than to count our wealth. Would it be more important to carry out his wishes or to return treasures straying from his riches? Does it take this money, a mere token of his abundance, to bring on fear or to remind us its value is less than any relationship we should protect? The master tells us not to return without our youngest brother, seeming to be treasured more than these coins.
Bystander: Coming home to Canaan, to their father Jacob, they told him all that they experienced in Egypt.
Reuben: One we met, known as the master, the Lord of Egypt, seeming to be indifferent, speaking harshly, took us to be spies, stealing glimpses of his land's weaknesses, which his reason could not justify. Speaking to convince him we are honest men, never known to deceive anyone, unprepared by our virtues to be dishonorable, unable to be snoops, we told him we are twelve brothers, sons of one father, one being no more, with the youngest home this day with our father in the land of Canaan. Then the master, skeptical of everything we told him, tested us by saying, By this I shall know you are honest men, leave one of your brothers with me, take grain for the famine of your households, and go your way, leaving a brother hostage to assure your return, coming back with your youngest brother to verify your claims for being upright, confirming you are not spies but honest men, and I will deliver your brother from confinement and you can trade in the land.
Bystander: The brothers emptied their sacks and found money scattered in each one.
Jacob: Should I suspect hidden rewards, coming with concealed intents, offering no explanations, greeting them as the Trojan horse, waiting to steal my peace, destroying my being, wondering why a human would reason to give a gift without payment, especially for precious ones to sustain life? Are humans made to be so generous, giving gifts, expecting nothing in return? Could this be a concealed bribe, attracting my attention, veiling my eyesight, blinding me, enabling someone to steal the remaining of my most loved one, distracting me with unexpected bounty, returning wealth I had spent, dedicated to save my family, and now tempting me to abandon more relationships, consuming my efforts devoted to a lifetime of being human.
Judah: The decision will be yours, giving you time to decide, waiting
until our grain is gone, asking you how much you trust the Lord to follow ways you must believe he has planned for us, or to trust the fears you might envision to embrace. You told us of a dream you once experienced, wrestling with the Lord until He consented to bless you. Have you forgotten His blessing, trusting Him only at times of convenience, never returning to wrestle Him again, thinking your blessing endures forever, while you wallow in pity's distress, forgetting He created you to never fear.
Jacob: The Lord has bereaved me of my children, Joseph is no more, Simeon is no more, and now you would take Benjamin, all this coming upon me for no reason.
Reuben: Judah reminds you God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. Never fear, despite being one not being made perfect in love. If you insist on being distracted by fear, listen to an oath I make, Slay my two sons if I do not bring Simeon back to you. Put his fate in my hands, entrusting him to my care, and I will bring him back to you.
Jacob: My son Benjamin will not return with you to Egypt, fearing he will join his brother in death. He is the only one left to remind me of Rachel. If harm comes to him, journeying with you to a God-forsaken desert, populated by heathen idols, ruled by pagans worshipping a multitude of gods, you will doom my gray head to the grave in sorrow. This fear exceeds any blessing I have fought for in the past. My time for blessing reaches its end, and no great expectation can compensate for my greatest fear, losing the last son of my dearest Rachel.
Judah: We have been blessed to be a blessing, chosen ones, promised by God's covenant, the seed to grow His people, but now the promise is threatened by famine consuming all we have, watching our food stores diminish each day, soon to approach nothing, jeopardizing the promise to be numbered as stars in the sky. We cannot wait much longer, knowing Simeon wastes away in prison.
Jacob: I will not submit to your fears, knowing I must protect my own. Benjamin remains as the only tie to my beloved wife.
Judah: Your concern is only for yourself, lasting only as long as you live,