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"The Nations and the Kingdom of God" Text Comment v. 1 That is, at or near Pharaoh’s birthday, once again, which may well have made the dream still more noteworthy to the king. v. 2 Throughout the ancient world, seven was a sacred number; and the cow was both a symbol of Egypt and of one of the gods. v. 4 The grotesque image of cows eating other cows would have awakened anyone. v. 7 Egypt was the breadbasket of the ancient world, famous for its grain. The dream had been so vivid that Pharaoh’s had thought it real until he woke up. v. 16 Joseph does not hesitate to correct the mistaken opinion of the king. It is God alone who knows the future and who can interpret the king’s dream. v. 24 Pharaoh’s recital of the dreams embellishes them somewhat from what the narrator had first told us. All the embellishments indicate how much the king felt threatened by the dreams. The scenes were darker in his telling. v. 25 Joseph here is cast in the role of a prophet. That is not surprising. Abraham is called a prophet on one occasion (20:7), both Isaac and Jacob predict the future in the matter of the blessing of their sons. God was with them and revealed to them at some specific points what he intended to bring to pass. v. 32 The double dream, with a single meaning, confirms the certainty of the prediction (Joseph, you remember had been given two dreams of his eventual supremacy over his brothers). v. 33 The officer in question would be the "vizier," the Egyptian minister of state or prime minister who was the executive of the government. v. 36 The fact that the future is certain does not mean that steps cannot be taken to ameliorate the effects of the famine. The account of the elevation of Joseph from slavery to the prime ministry of Egypt is now complete and the stage is set for his reunion with his brothers and the saving of his family from starvation in Canaan. It is a wonderful account of the providential rule of God. It shows him in control of the fortunes of all the nations of the earth. It is, as well, a solemn reminder of the how terrible in his judgments God can be. We say the word "famine" in the United States and do not know what we are talking about. But people in the ANE world knew what famines meant, as people in Africa know still today – starving children, a complete breakdown of law and order as people, desperate for food, steal and murder to obtain what little food remains. Property is lost, homes also, and people who survive the famine often remain, as a consequence, in abject poverty for the rest of their lives. But through all of this hardship, God contrived to save the world and, in particular, to save his own people, the people of his covenant. It is also a word about government. Here is Joseph, God’s man, an official of a national government. And through Joseph a bond is established between God and Pharaoh, between God and Egypt. The Egyptian king, indeed, bows to God’s word. He doesn’t reject Joseph’s interpretation of his dreams. He excepts that truth and is saved by it with his country. Joseph, we will see, uses imperial power wisely. All through the Bible we are given a positive view of government and the power of government, in and of itself. There is no repudiation of empire or imperial power in the Bible, only its sinful use, only its use apart from God and contrary to God’s law. But, there is more here than a demonstration of God’s providence or a piece of the biblical doctrine of the state, important as those subjects are. We have seen already how in the narrative of Genesis, the most fundamental gospel of salvation themes are presented in the course of the history itself. We will see this again, most wonderfully, in the transformation of Judah and his blessing as the ancestor-to-be of the Messiah and the King of Kings. This is what biblical scholars for a thousand years have called typology. Typology is prophecy not in words but in things, in events, in flesh and blood and history; not in a dream or a vision or a revelation of the future, but rather the future itself portrayed and depicted somehow in the present. Because God is the sovereign ruler of history, he is able to make that history itself a lesson in what he will do in the future. And this is particularly true of the prophecy of the coming Savior, King, and Messiah. The OT history is replete with anticipations of him and of his work as the redeemer of his people. Spurgeon used to speak of how, in England, all roads led to London, and how in the Bible, all roads lead to Christ. Every sermon, he would say, should lead to Jesus Christ. Well, that idea can be taken amiss and often has been. A preacher should preach the sense and the meaning of the text in front of him and sometimes that meaning is not specifically about Christ and his redemption. It may concern the law of God or the government of the church. But no subject in the Bible is not in some important way related to the revelation of Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior of the world, and, sooner or later, every subject in the Bible is connected up to this central message and to the Lord Jesus himself. The meaning of human life itself, the secret of it, the hope for it, is all found in this single fact: that Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief. He was, after all, God the Son. The incarnation is the very center of human history, the pivot around which the whole story of the human race revolves. The destiny of every man is determined by his relationship to Jesus Christ, or the lack of it. No wonder from the beginning of the Bible to its end, we are concerned with the Seed of the Woman, the Seed of Abraham, through whom all the nations of the world will be blessed. No wonder that all through the OT there is a building anticipation of the coming of the one who would redeem his people from their sins and exercise his dominion over all of mankind. Do you know the poem by de la Mare, who, standing lost in wonder before a wild rose in the woods, sees its roots stretching back to the very beginning of things: Very old are the woods; Well, in the same way, no one can compute through what long centuries the Saviorhood, the Kingship of Jesus Christ roves back. The promises of the ancient covenant God made with Abraham and his descendants, the ceremonies and institutions of that worship, the events both joyful and terrible in the history of that people, her prophets, priests, and kings, her heroes and their exploits were so many fingerposts on the road to Him. The Old Testament serves a multitude of uses and we love it for a multitude of reasons, but this is its noblest work, to enable us to understand more adequately, to trust more firmly, and to love more deeply our Redeemer, Jesus Christ. [Alexander Smellie in Gammie, Preachers I have Heard, 97] No wonder, then, the meaning of his life and work and death is woven into the very fabric, the course of human history. No wonder that God provided so many things by which the people of God might learn of their coming Messiah, might form habits of thought congenial to their understanding his life and work when he came into the world. You know how large this form of prophecy, this typology, looms in the Old Testament. The offices of prophet, priest, and king are themselves forecasts of the coming One who would be the prophet, the priest, and the king. David is so much a prophecy of the coming Messiah in flesh and blood, that the coming Messiah is simply called "David" in several places in the prophets. The tabernacle and temple are visual realizations of the atonement, of Christ’s redemption of his people. And so on. And as long as Christians have been reading the Bible, Joseph in Egypt has been also regarded as a type, a prophecy in flesh and blood of the coming Jesus Christ. And it is not hard to see why! You have Joseph passing through two states or conditions: humiliation and exaltation, just as Jesus Christ would do. He brought the word of God to the world, just as Jesus would. And as the history unfolds, this one descendant of Abraham, would prove to be the Savior of the covenant people and, in a way, of the whole world. It does not surprise us to read here, in v. 46, that Joseph was thirty years of age when he entered the service of Pharaoh, which was, of course, the age when Jesus began his public ministry. And Joseph, in this high office with which he was entrusted, would now be the means of blessing Egypt and also of preparing Egypt to receive Israel, the people of God. Do you remember when Paul gave an account to the Corinthians of his preaching when he first came among them. At the beginning of 1 Corinthians 2 he recollected that when he first reached Corinth as a Christian minister he preached nothing but Christ, and him crucified. That is, Paul was convinced that the only thing the world really needed to hear was the news about Jesus Christ, his death and his resurrection and his coming again and his promise to be the Savior of all who trust in Him. Well, the Egyptians did not know it at first, but what they needed, what they really needed, all they really needed, was God’s man, Joseph, with the truth that he brought. They had no idea that a famine was coming. They certainly had no idea that some Hebrew slave in one of their prisons had the power to deliver them from the death that loomed just over the horizon. Vaunted Egypt! Depending upon some Hebrew slave? The thought was ridiculous. Just as it is ridiculous today to so many people – but not to all. There are people who already experience the famine – for famine can come in many different ways – it can come in every form of misery, despair, and hopelessness. It can come as the direct result of what people themselves have done and have become, and it can come as well from what is done to them by others. In the midst of the luxury and prosperity of busy Egypt, they suffer famine. All around us are people like this. There is nothing else and no one else that they need than the Hebrew man who was first humiliated and then exalted to the Right Hand. The world is so much the same today as long ago. Governments of great nations seem so impressive, so powerful. It seems to many people now as then that the real power and the real hope of mankind lies in the hands of the great men who rule the world, as Pharaoh ruled the world in his day. But Christians and the wiser sort of person know it is not so. Governments come and go and they have no power whatsoever to end the famine that afflicts the souls of men. They have no authority at all except what God gives them and allows them. As Jesus told Pontius Pilate, "You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above." [John 19:11] No, the real power, the real hope, the real possibility of the salvation and fulfillment of human life and human longing, that is held alone in the hands of the One who came from God and suffered and died to take away our sins, and who now summons all the world to believe in him and be saved. Do you remember the strange story of Adoniram Judson, the great missionary to Burma in the early 19th century? He was a young man at Providence College in Rhode Island in the days of Thomas Paine. Real Christianity was out of vogue then as it is today on America’s University campuses. Students took pride in their unbelief and Judson among them. Like those in Egypt, these young men, in the full pride of their new land, were sure that Christianity had nothing for them, that no message brought by a mistreated Hebrew was going to prove the secret of life itself. At the College he met a young man in the class above him. He identifies him in his journals only by his initial, "E." This young man flattered Judson with his friendship. He was one of the student leaders of the new philosophy on campus and in accepting his friendship, Judson, though he came from a devout Christian home and his father, a Congregationalist minister, had hopes of his following him in the ministry, bound himself, he thought irretrievably, to the modern skepticism and humanism. But one summer holiday, Adoniram Judson set out to make a tour on horseback of the New England states. One night he came to an inn and the landlord explained apologetically that the only room he had was one that adjoined the room of a young man who was very ill, perhaps even dying. Judson assured the inn-keeper that he was not put off by the prospect of illness and death – such a modern, confident young man he was. But the wall between the rooms was very thin and all night long he listened to the groans of the dying man next door, groans of anguish, of despair it seemed to him. The heart-rending sounds powerfully affected him and disturbed his inner peace. But he pulled himself together. What would his college friends say if they saw his weakness, his fear, if they knew of his troubled conscience? Especially, what would "E" say, his witty, confident, clear-thinking college friend? But it was no use. All night long he shuddered at the thought of death with death itself, as it were, just on the other side of the wall. In the morning he asked the inn-keeper about the man in the next room. "He is dead," the inn-keeper replied. "And who was he?" asked Judson. "Oh," replied the inn-keeper, "he was a student from Providence college; a very fine fellow, his name was "E." That moment and the few days that followed were Adoniram Judson’s famine. Death had drawn near and he had no answer for it. He had had his disturbing dream! And so began Judson’s turn to Jesus Christ, to the sure word of the gospel of peace. And from that turning, he was to go to Burma and spread the news to an entirely different Egypt of a Hebrew man – a lowly man, Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified no less by the powerful forces of government – but who rose again and showed himself the way, the only way to God. Judson would suffer terribly in Burma: bury his beloved wife and children there; be imprisoned himself, be sick unto death on many occasions; but he would eventually translate the Bible into Burmese, establish churches, train Burmese young men to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ and salvation to their own people. The Karens, one of the peoples of that land, turned to Christ by the thousands. There is but one man that the world must meet, one man who can save the world, one man able to end the famine in the souls of men and women. That man is Jesus Christ, whom Judson found in his own famine and then proclaimed to countless others. That is what must be true of us as well, brothers and sisters, this supreme confidence that all the kingdoms of this world – however impressive they may seem – are nothing, are drops in the bucket before the Lord Jesus Christ, who alone knows how to rescue human beings in the famine of life. Nations come and go, but Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever! Joseph in his life was a picture of Jesus long beforehand. Egypt is a picture of the unbelieving world. And what Joseph did is a picture of how Christ alone can save that world. This, my brothers and sisters, is the supremely wonderful knowledge that you have, that we have together. It may seem as though the world has no interest in this knowledge – that it is a message that modern men and women will never find plausible. They will call it foolishness. So, says Paul, did folk describe the gospel in his day. Today people are no more likely to turn to Christ than the Pharaoh, long ago, was to go looking in his prisons for a Hebrew slave to find the answer to his fears. But once the disturbing dreams come, and the famine strikes, things that were hidden before become brilliantly clear. And believe me, my brethren, there are folk all around us who are starving to death for want of the peace, love, forgiveness, purpose, and hope that Jesus Christ alone can give, really give, give on the strength of what the Son of God did for man when he was in the world. You and I too often doubt his power to save the world. But we should not. We know he can because he saved us! Perhaps, there are folk here this morning, who are already suffering from famine in one way or another and are looking here and there for someone to help them, to provide for them, to give them the answers that they need, to lift the burden that weighs them down. You know, with a moral certainty, in this world of ours, such people are never far away. And what have we to tell such people, to tell you if you are such a person. Well, we tell you that, strange, unlikely, as it may seem at first hearing, Jesus Christ can meet your need. He can take your sins away and no one else can. He can lift you up and give you hope and peace when no one else can. He can make you clean if you know yourself impure; he can make you happy if you cannot break out of your gloom; he can give you peace if you live in fear; he can give you power over the forces that darken your life if you know yourself helpless. Joseph, as only a type, an enacted prophecy of Jesus Christ, could only help Egypt through a temporary famine. Christ himself can feed forever those who trust in him. I urge you; we who are Christians urge you: trust yourself to him, call upon him. It was Jesus Christ himself who said, "The one who comes to me I will never drive away." |
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