Sunday, June 30, 2013

Last--Gen. 38


"And it came to pass, as he drew back his hand, that, behold, his brother came out: and she said, How hast thou broken forth? This breach be upon thee: therefore his name was called Pharez" (Gen. 38:29).

Tamar, a first-supposed cursed wife of two of Judah's sons, and now the carrier of Judah's children, is in labor. The scene of labor is never pretty. It's full of searing pain and seething fire--but also, shouting joy.

A child is being born.

The midwife has discerned that Tamar has two children in her womb. Twins! And to be sure that all posterity will know for certain which the "firstborn" really is, when a tiny hand is seen, the midwife ties a cord around it quickly.

But after the mark is left, the hand withdraws, and a baby without a cord is delivered.

The midwife stares at the little boy in shock. "How hast thou broken forth?" she asks (vs. 29).

"And afterward came out his brother, who had the scarlet thread upon his hand: and his name was called Zarah" (vs. 30).

Two boys.

The one who everyone thought would be first...was last.

And the one that no one had seen yet...was first.

"But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first" (Matt. 19:30).

Human nature tries so hard to be first. It's natural. We do it without thinking. "Survival of the fittest" is engrained into our nature with the sin that produced it.

It takes someone special--and full of the Spirit of the Lord--to surrender their place as first...or even their right to be first… in order to be last.

And yet, our Example did just that.

He became last. Not only just last, but the last of the last. Lowest of the low. Smallest of the small.

His reason? "And the glory which Thou gavest Me I have given them; that they may be one, even as we are one" (John 17:22).

First. To last.

That the last. Might be first.

That is love. In all truth and fullness.


Lord God, give me this same Spirit… May I be willing to be last that someone else might be first...

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Too Late--Gen. 37


"And Reuben said unto them, Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit that is in the wilderness, and lay no hand upon him; that he might rid him out of their hands, to deliver him to his father again….And Reuben returned unto the pit; and behold, Joseph was not in the pit; and he rent his clothes. And he returned unto his brethren, and said, The child is not; and I, whither shall I go?" (Gen. 37:22, 29-30)

A certain man had twelve sons…

And he loved the youngest the best.

True, the older ones had given Israel reason to doubt their fidelity to God and love to their father. Reuben committed a disgusting sin which showed the entire camp just how much he disrespected his father; Levi and Simeon had betrayed and murdered an entire city of people; and many of the other sons had been unfaithful in tallying flocks and herds and doing whatever they would.

None of that would inspire confidence or trust.

And so, Jacob loved Joseph, because he was the "son of his old age" (vs. 3).

The dreams came, first one, then another. Joseph related the dreams to his brothers and father. Dreams in those days always had a meaning, and it was a duty to the family to tell of such a matter. Joseph did his duty.

His brothers? "They hated him yet the more for his dreams, and for his words" (vs. 8).

His father? "His father rebuked him, and said unto him, What is this dream that thou hast dreamed? Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow down ourselves to thee to the earth?...but his father observed the saying" (vs.10, 11).

The coat of many colors had already caused a passionate dislike for this favored younger brother. Now, the dreams added hate upon hate, and none of the elder brothers could claim any sort of brotherly love for Joseph.

The fated day came when Jacob sent Joseph to see how the brothers and flocks were doing in Shechem. At the first beck of duty, Joseph's response was, "Here am I" (vs. 13). Would his answer have been so quick if he had known what lay ahead of him?

In Shechem, the brothers could not be found. And a stranger pointed Joseph not to the field in which he wandered, but into the land of Dothan. He knew of a certainty that they were there.

"And when they saw him afar off, even before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him" (vs. 18).

Hatred had reached its limit. Something had to be done.

But Reuben stepped in. He put up his hands, maybe forcefully and physically restraining his brothers. "Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit in the wilderness" (vs. 22).

It doesn't say that Reuben loved Joseph. But its obvious that Reuben knew better than to kill. He had a sense of family duty. In fact, he planned to "deliver him to his father again" (vs. 22).

Contented with Reuben's answer, the rest of the brothers attacked an unsuspecting Joseph as soon as he came near. The coat of many colors fell to the ground, and Joseph was thrown headlong into an old well shaft.

Congratulating one another, the brothers "sat down to eat bread" (vs. 24). No concern, no care. Just a sadistic feeling of pleasure at long-withheld revenge.

Reuben? Apparently he left. Perhaps the actions of his brothers sickened him, and not wanting to be apart of it, and yet unable to stop it, he decided to wait somewhere else until he could pull him out and take Joseph back to their father.

Whatever the case may be, he wasn't there when the caravan passed the brothers camp. And he didn't hear Judah say, "Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmeelites" (vs. 27).

The last the brothers would see of each other for years was Joseph tied to the back of a camel, headed for Egypt, and the brothers dancing around their bag of 20 silver coins in fiendish exultancy.

But then, here comes Reuben. And he found no boy. And oh! the horror, the regret and remorse!

But it was too late. Joseph was gone.

A thick blanket of lies was pulled over the wicked deed, and presented to an aged father in the guise of a torn and bloodied, many-colored coat. And Jacob believed them...and wept.

We all know that Joseph was headed to something great. But the pain of the present remains nonetheless.

And what about Reuben, who had every intention of saving his brother, but came back too late?

...what about us, who often have every intention of saving someone else, but come to reach out to them too late?

Can it be possible that sometimes, we are like Reuben, leaving a soul to weep and wail in a pit of loneliness, sin and despair, while we wait for "just the right time" to reach in and lend them a hand out of their misery, only to find that when we do come back, we are too late?

Verily.

Though sadly.

Suppose Reuben had come back beforehand. Suppose he had rescued Joseph.

But then, the story doesn't go that way.

He was too late.

Oh, God in Heaven, have mercy.

May we never again be too late.

Father in Heaven, help me to act when You bid me to… and may I never again be too late to save a soul for Your Kingdom...