"And God spoke to Israel in visions of the night" (Genesis 46:2).

I remember that when I first came to faith, I felt God's Word speaking to me, drawing me to a saving knowledge of Him. My whole life was changed in an instant. Then, in quiet and unexpected moments over the following decades, I have felt His Word speak to me — encouraging me at times, convicting me at others, and always challenging me to persevere. Today I feel a tugging at my heart, and I long to see Jesus face to face.

A few days ago during our Bible study time, I asked my four-year-old daughter: since God is all-powerful and can do and give anything we imagine, if she could ask Him for one thing, what would it be? I was a little afraid of what she might say. I thought she might ask for a pony or a toy or some other material thing. But she said, "I want God to give me a big hug." I almost cried. Did my daughter simply know what her daddy wanted to hear? I don't remember planting that particular thought in her head, even though I have been teaching her about the Lord from the Bible every day since her fourth birthday in April 2013. Needless to say, I was moved.

Friends, today I want to encourage you to persevere. Persevere in your daily meditation on God's Word. Persevere in your utterly dependent prayers to Him. Persevere in your stuttering trust in Him and your stumbling obedience to Him. I am reminded of Paul's encouragement: be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, "knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (a paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 15:58).

One of the songs I often sang to my daughter when she was a baby, and now sometimes sing with her during our Bible studies, is called "Still." It captures the sentiment of my sharing today.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Genesis 46:1–4 records the last time God speaks directly to Jacob, and it comes at a moment of understandable fear. Jacob, now an old man, is about to leave the Promised Land for Egypt — the land Abraham had gone down to in famine with near-disastrous results (12:10–20), and the land Isaac had been told not to enter (26:2). So Jacob stops at Beersheba to offer sacrifices, and God meets him there: "Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt"; there God would make him a great nation, and He Himself would go down with him and bring him up again (46:3–4). The promise was not that Jacob would avoid Egypt, but that God would go with him into it.

The comment's story of the daughter's request is a lovely picture of what God offers His people in every such moment — not first gifts, but His presence. That is the heart of the promise to Jacob, and it is the heart of the gospel: "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Hebrews 13:5). A child who wants God's embrace more than a pony has grasped something many adults take years to learn.

I have always had the impression that Israel became slaves during the time of Joseph – that Joseph brought the Israelites into slavery - but I don't think this is so. The people sold themselves to Pharaoh because they were in need; but the house of Israel was not in need and so were not brought under slavery like the rest of Egypt, they remained independent:

Genesis 47

12 And Joseph provided his father, his brothers, and all his father's household with food, according to the number of their dependents.

As I mentioned earlier with the dining, the Egyptians separated themselves from the Hebrews. So no identity should be mixed when we read that Joseph sold the “Egyptians” to the Egyptian king.

13 Now there was no food in all the land, for the famine was very severe, so that the land of Egypt and the land of Canaan languished by reason of the famine. 15 And when the money was all spent in the land of Egypt and in the land of Canaan, all the Egyptians came to Joseph and said, "Give us food. Why should we die before your eyes? For our money is gone." 18 And when that year was ended, they came to him the following year and said to him, "We will not hide from my lord that our money is all spent. The herds of livestock are my lord's. There is nothing left in the sight of my lord but our bodies and our land.

And again, all the Egyptians were sold:

20 So Joseph bought all the land of Egypt for Pharaoh, for all the Egyptians sold their fields, because the famine was severe on them. The land became Pharaoh's. 21 As for the people, he made servants of them from one end of Egypt to the other. 22 Only the land of the priests he did not buy, for the priests had a fixed allowance from Pharaoh and lived on the allowance that Pharaoh gave them; therefore they did not sell their land.

Only the priests and their land were not sold; Goshen was given to the house of Israel but to sojourn not to own. They had nothing to sell, they had no need to sell.

26 So Joseph made it a statute concerning the land of Egypt, and it stands to this day, that Pharaoh should have the fifth; the land of the priests alone did not become Pharaoh's.

We even get word that all the lands, except the priests became Pharaoh's. Israel establishes their settlements:

27 Thus Israel settled in the land of Egypt, in the land of Goshen. And they gained possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied greatly.

Furthermore Genesis 50

8 as well as all the household of Joseph, his brothers, and his father's household. Only their children, their flocks, and their herds were left in the land of Goshen.

They had flocks, everyone else sold, livestock, land, and their very bodies.

They settled in the land as sojourners. And they gained possessions, not lost possessions!!! How amazing this is! Not only has God spared his chosen people time and again, but here we have everyone being slaves to Egypt, but his chosen people living free among them! How reflective is that for this era of the church, free among the slaves of Egypt!

It is not until we enter Exodus that a new king comes and BEGINS to oppress them. And the word slavery is first mentioned.

In fact we are given some insight.

Exodus 1

7 But the people of Israel were fruitful and increased greatly; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them.

The Israelites were strong, which is part of the reason for the oppression.

8 Now there arose a new king over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. 9 And he said to his people, "Behold, the people of Israel are too many and too mighty for us. 10 Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, lest they multiply, and, if war breaks out, they join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land." 11 Therefore they set taskmasters over them to afflict

Like Abraham, a prepared man, so were his children, by the mercies and grace of God. And now these weapon-wielding, numerous, and strong people become a strategic liability for Egypt. And so it is at the point of the new king that they decide to act shrewdly and set taskmasters over them.

AI-Expanded Reflection

Fernando corrects an important chronological impression. Genesis 47 does not describe Joseph bringing his own family into the later bondage narrated in Exodus. He supplies them with food, they settle in Goshen, and the account describes their growth and acquisition of possessions. Exodus 1 then introduces a new king who does not recognize Joseph and institutes oppressive measures. Keeping these stages distinct helps the reader see both the preservation of the family and the later reversal of its circumstances.

The famine narrative also describes a major concentration of Egyptian resources under Pharaoh. Money, livestock, land, and labor become part of the arrangement administered by Joseph. The Egyptians acknowledge that their lives have been preserved, while the resulting system places them under a continuing obligation to the crown. The text's report of survival and its report of dependence both matter. Recognizing Joseph's role in preserving life does not require ignoring the human cost of the economic transformation.

Genesis 47:21 contains a textual variation reflected in translations. Some describe the people being made servants or reduced to servitude, while others describe their transfer to cities. The surrounding verses still speak of purchase and the fifth of the produce owed to Pharaoh, but the variation cautions against building an overly precise model from one English wording. Compare the translations of Genesis 47:21. The arrangement should not simply be equated with every later form of slavery without explaining its features.

The original's assertion that Jacob's family possessed no land is also more definite than the account warrants. Genesis 47:11 says Joseph gave them a possession in the best part of the land, while verse 27 describes their acquiring possessions there. The family's status as sojourners does not by itself settle every question about tenure. What is clear is that Joseph provides for them and the narrative does not include them in the sale described for the Egyptians.

Exodus then explains oppression through Pharaoh's fear of Israel's increasing numbers and a possible alliance with enemies. This is a ruler's stated rationale, not proof that Israel already possessed an organized army capable of defeating Egypt. The narrative emphasizes how fear turns a growing community into a perceived threat and becomes a justification for coercion. We should not absorb the oppressor's claim as an unqualified description of the people he targets.

The proposed comparison with Christians living free among enslaved people can express a spiritual theme, but it must not imply that believers are assured economic immunity or that unbelieving neighbors possess lesser worth. Christian freedom concerns life under Christ and liberation from sin; believers may still endure material deprivation or political oppression. The story's movement from provision to bondage makes that limitation especially clear.

A fruitful application is gratitude for present provision joined to humility about changing circumstances. Favorable conditions are gifts, not guarantees of permanent security. God's faithfulness continues through both the family’s preservation under Joseph and the later need for deliverance. Reading the sequence carefully helps us trust that faithfulness without making our current prosperity the measure of our standing before him.

The years of my sojourning are one hundred and thirty; few and unpleasant have been the years of my life, nor have they attained the years that my fathers lived during the days of their sojourning (Genesis 47:9).

"Few and unpleasant have been the years of my life," Jacob tells Pharaoh. When I reflect on the saints in the Old Testament and the New, this seems to be the common testimony of God's chosen and faithful people. Jesus gave His disciples this sobering counsel:

In this world you will have trouble (John 16:33).

Near the end of Paul's life he gave a similar word to Timothy:

In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted (2 Timothy 3:12).

Since this is the overriding testimony of Scripture in both testaments, it surprises me that most Christians today live quite a different reality - not unpleasant, not filled with trouble, and hardly persecuted. This has also been my experience to this day.

Could God have built the nation of Israel without trouble? Certainly! Could God have kept Christians from experiencing any trouble in this life? Certainly! But God chose to use hardship and suffering to be the vehicle to mature His people into a nation in the Old Testament and the same to mature believers to Christ-likeness in the New Testament.

But I really have little trouble in my life. I have insurance to cover just about every possible calamity. What persecution could I speak of - 90% of my time is spent with Christians, and particularly Christians who like me. I know at least a few Christians who wonder, "Why do I have so much trouble in my life?" But, as I again consider the overriding testimony of Scripture, perhaps the more appropriate question is one that the majority of Christians should be asking, namely, "Why don't I have more trouble in my life?!"

My fellow believers, are we really being light to a dark world? Are we still "salty," presenting a moral contrast not only to moral depravity but also to worldly values and to self-centered priorities? Does God's Word direct our lives or are we more concerned about keeping up with the Joneses? Is our conversation governed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ or by the latest headlines, fashion, technology, and sports? If all that we have is passing away, why are we holding on to things with such tenacity, virtually ignoring the millions of people that are suffering and dying every minute because they were born on the wrong side of the tracks?

Friends, I'm not trying to put you through a guilt trip, although I hope your conscience is at least a bit tinged. I'm not immune to my own criticism. But I felt someone's got to raise the question. Pastors hardly do so. I never heard this in seminary. Such thoughts occasionally get said in a sobering moment by a rogue, probably "naive", Christian, while sharing in a small group. But nothing comes of it, so they pass without any incident. And I know I've shared in this way from time to time over the past few years, but again, without incident. I am reminded of God's word to Ezekiel in the days before God poured out His wrath on His people:

I looked for someone among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found no one (Ezekiel 22:30).

I am also reminded of the words of Jesus, who had this sobering prophecy of the last days:

And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth? (Luke 18:7–8).

AI-Expanded Reflection

Jacob’s description of his years as few and difficult emerges from a life marked by displacement, family conflict, bereavement, and fear. It is an honest assessment, but the whole story also includes provision, reconciliation, and the unexpected restoration of Joseph. The original uses Jacob’s words to question whether comfortable believers have insulated themselves from costly faithfulness. That question deserves attention, especially when comfort has become the unspoken measure of a successful Christian life.

The New Testament plainly prepares disciples for trouble and opposition. Yet the presence or absence of hardship is not a simple spiritual scorecard. Some suffering arises from faithfulness, some from ordinary creaturely vulnerability, and some from our own wrongdoing. Likewise, a season of peace can be a gift to receive with gratitude rather than evidence that one has failed Christ. First Timothy 2:1–2 even directs prayer toward a peaceful life in godliness and dignity. The question is how peace is used, not whether it must be rejected to prove devotion.

The original’s observations about insurance and a largely Christian social circle invite a more specific examination. Sensible provision is not necessarily unbelief, and Christian friendship is not an obstacle to discipleship. They become problematic when they enable indifference to people whose needs are inconvenient or whose presence disturbs our security. A life can be well organized and still be unavailable to the neighbor. The challenge is to ask where our arrangements protect responsible service and where they quietly protect us from service itself.

The reference to vast numbers suffering and dying should be heard as an impassioned appeal, not as a verified rate of mortality. Its moral force does not depend on an exaggerated numerical statement. Real neighbors experience hunger, displacement, loneliness, and persecution, and the church has concrete opportunities to respond. A smaller number known personally can call for more faithful action than a staggering figure that leaves the listener briefly alarmed and then unchanged.

Ezekiel 22:30 belongs to a specific indictment of corruption among Jerusalem’s leaders and people. Its call for someone to stand in the gap should not be detached from the injustices the chapter names. Similarly, Luke 18:1–8 encourages persistent prayer for justice in the face of delay. Together, the passages direct concern toward intercession and responsible action rather than a search for hardship as an end in itself.

A fruitful response might begin with one sustained commitment: making room for a struggling household, supporting a persecuted congregation, serving beyond familiar friendships, or redirecting a meaningful portion of resources toward need. The point is not to manufacture discomfort or maintain a permanent sense of guilt. It is to become more available to love. Christ’s promise of overcoming the world gives courage for costly obedience, while his gifts of rest and fellowship sustain it. We can receive comfort gratefully and still refuse to let comfort decide the limits of our responsibility.

If I might add a personal note today. Reading how Joseph was reunited with Jacob after some twenty-two years — Joseph was seventeen when sold into slavery (Genesis 37:2), thirty when made overseer in Egypt (41:46), and about thirty-nine when he revealed himself to his brothers in the second year of the famine (45:6) — I remembered my own first trip back to Korea after twenty-five years.

Apart from a brief visit from my grandmother in my early teens, I hadn't seen any of my relatives in Korea. It wasn't until my late twenties and early thirties, living alone in Chicago and working various jobs, that my heart was moved to reconnect with family. It was then I determined to visit my parents in Dallas more often, and to take on their financial and other burdens when they turned sixty-five so they could better enjoy retirement. And it was then that I invited my mother — with whom I was not as close as I was with my father — to take a three-week trip to Korea with me.

That was September 2001. Although the period is remembered for the attack on America, I mostly remember it as a wonderful time with my mother, a reacquaintance with my home country, and a great moment with my grandmother. When she saw me, the first thing she did was grasp my hands, look into my eyes, and say that now she could die, since she had seen my face.

I can't help recalling that moment reading Genesis 46:30, where Jacob tells Joseph he is now ready to die, having seen his face again and knowing he is still alive. Thank God my grandmother did not believe me dead, as Jacob had believed of his son.

AI-Expanded Reflection

The parallel is more exact than coincidence would ordinarily allow, and it points to something about how these ancient texts work: the sentence Jacob speaks is not a theological statement or a formal blessing, but the thing a very old person says when a long absence finally ends. That it can be recognized, word for near-word, in a Korean grandmother's greeting nearly four thousand years later is part of why Genesis has held readers who share nothing of its cultural world.

Worth noticing too what Jacob's sentence actually contains. He is not saying that he wishes to die, or that nothing remains for him. He is saying that the thing he could not release without seeing has now been seen — that the outstanding grief of his life is closed. Genesis grants him seventeen more years in Egypt after this (47:28). The line is about resolution, not about ending.

Whenever I previously thought of Egypt, I thought of God destroying an ungodly nation — the only image I had was the plagues brought on Egypt as Israel left. But I'd forgotten that it was also God who brought this same nation to its height. The Lord made Pharaoh prosper through the very revelation God gave him. By the end of this section, Pharaoh owns essentially everything in the entire land. This is how it always works — the rise and fall of every nation, godly or ungodly, remains under the Lord's sovereign direction.

As our president delivers his State of the Union address tonight, we should remember he isn't the one truly in control of this nation's course. He, and every leader of this nation, answers to God whether they acknowledge it or not. Because we know the Lord is in control, we should pray for our nation and its leaders.

This doesn't mean staying out of the political process, though — God has graciously allowed us to live in a country where citizens can help shape its direction. Thinking about the many who live without any political rights under oppressive governments, it seems genuinely wrong for Americans not to vote.

Let's shake off apathy and actively participate in the political process through voting, while always remembering that our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20).

AI-Expanded Reflection

The tension this comment holds together — genuine civic engagement alongside genuine recognition that no earthly leader ultimately controls history's direction — has a striking Old Testament precedent worth adding: Daniel serves faithfully and diligently under several different pagan empires and rulers, at one point even praying for the very Babylonian king who destroyed his homeland (Daniel 4), all while never once treating that service as his ultimate source of security or hope. Scripture doesn't seem to treat active civic participation and confidence in God's sovereignty over nations as being in any real tension with each other — both postures show up together, repeatedly, in exactly the balance this comment is describing.