The Sign of Jonah: Life on the Rebound

When we last saw Edmond Dantès in The Count of Monte Cristo, he had escaped from prison in a body bag, taking the place on his dead friend and thrown into the ocean. For Dantès, as for us, a substitutionary death and a baptism into water marked the beginning of his new life. Dantès was about to return to the world, armed with the power to save or to destroy those who had framed him. His friend, Abbot Faria, had told him the location of a secret treasure, and Dantès teamed up with some smugglers until he could get to the treasure. Fortified with the treasure and the education Faria imparted to him in prison, Dantès began to unfold his plan to avenge himself.



Dantès surfaces later in high society in many different disguises, usually as the wealthy Count of Monte Cristo. In his different guises, he finds those involved in the conspiracy to frame him. Among others:


● To one who has fallen on hard times, he gives a diamond valuable enough to either save him or lead him to ruin. Sadly the man murders another over the diamond and turns to crime.


● For one who is bankrupt and turns out to be blameless, he anonymously pays the man’s bills and saves him from suicide.


● And as the Count of Monte Cristo, he wins the devotion of the son of the man who framed him and stole his fiancée. Only his former fiancée sees through the disguise, recognizing Dantès. Both the man’s son and his wife leave him, and the man commits suicide.


On the hero’s journey, frequently the hero has to “change his skin,” disguising himself as the enemy. Luke Skywalker in Star Wars goes undercover in the enemy’s storm trooper armor in order to find the princess. Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption dons the warden’s suit and shoes during his escape. Edmond Dantès masquerading as the count is indistinguishable from his enemies. Will he yield to the temptation to return evil for evil—becoming thoroughly like his enemies—or will he eventually “shed his skin,” revealing the true hero underneath?


Read Genesis 42:1-45:7


From the time Joseph is stripped of his fancy robe until the moment his reveals himself to his brothers in Egypt, Joseph goes through five “wardrobe changes,” outwardly becoming less the young Semite and more the Egyptian. After he comes up from the pit, interprets Pharaoh’s dream, and becomes the governor of Egypt, he is dressed and adorned as an Egyptian (Gen. 41:42). Joseph marries an Egyptian maiden, the daughter of an Egyptian priest, and the names he gives his children suggest the abandonment of his homeland (Gen. 41:50-52)—Manasseh means “God has made me forget completely my hardship and my parental home,” and Ephraim means “God has made me fertile in the land of my affliction.”


When they first arrive in Egypt, Joseph’s brothers kneel before him (Gen. 42:6) fulfilling the prophecy of Joseph’s dreams. His brothers had always assumed that the dreams presaged domination. However, Joseph has not been given power in order to dominate, but rather to bless. His brothers kneel before him in order to receive a blessing of food and (unbeknowst to them) to be healed.


I have always had trouble with Genesis 42-45. Why doesn’t Joseph simply reveal himself to his brothers, and say, “It is me, Joseph! All is forgiven! Go, get Dad and Benjamin, and come on down to Egypt?” Conceivably Joseph is exacting a measure of vengeance before he forgives them. However, consciously or unconsciously, Joseph is putting his brothers through a long series of trials designed to help them recapitulate their crimes against Joseph and choose a different path, a different future. The ruse of hiding the silver in their bags not only puts them in his debt and ensures that they return to make proper restitution, but it is ironic as well. The brothers are about to get what they gave to Joseph. As they abandoned Joseph, so they are forced to leave Simeon behind. Will they return for him, or discard him as they discarded Joseph? In returning with Benjamin, they will be forced to recognize the special love their father has for the children of Rachel (i.e. Joseph and Benjamin).


The whole account—from the first arrival of the gang of brothers in Egypt until the eventual arrival of the entire tribe of Jacob is one of the longer stories in the Bible. Why? What is so important about this story? Is it possible that one function of this long story is to explain by the descendents of Joseph and Judah (the two brothers who make good and just decisions throughout the account) become the dominant tribes of the northern and southern kingdoms and why the tribe of Reuben never amounts to anything?


Consider this: throughout the story, Reuben, the first-born son, continues to prove to be ineffectual. A Jewish teaching on Genesis 42:36-38 (Reuben’s offer to kill his own sons if he does not return with both Simeon and Benjamin) interprets Jacob’s response as, “This is a foolish first-born son! Are your sons not my sons?” Perhaps the reason Simeon, the 2nd-oldest son, is taken hostage instead of Reuben is that Jacob would not suffer the loss of Reuben as harshly. Perhaps Reuben would have been considered expendable. It falls to Judah, not Reuben, to take the proper action. Judah, not Reuben, provides the guarantee for Benjamin’s life by pledging his own life for the safe return of both sons.


When the brothers return with Benjamin, Joseph frames Benjamin for the theft of a silver cup. Through this deceit, Joseph gives his brothers a test: will they abandon Benjamin as they abandoned Joseph? They have to accept the special place that Benjamin has in his father’s heart. Judah, the author of the plot to send Joseph into captivity, the one who pledged his life for the safe return of his brothers, is now willing to become the captive.


There are so many points in this story where everything could unravel. The brothers could have made up a story about how Simeon was killed during the first trip to Egypt. The brothers could have abandoned Judah as well. At any point, if the brothers fail to do the right thing, Joseph will look like the bad guy. “Joseph, why didn’t you just reveal yourself from the beginning? Why did you have to trick us?” At any point, Joseph’s human desire for vengeance may cloud his desire for reconciliation and justice. This is the tension throughout the account—can full reconciliation be realized before human frailties throw a monkey wrench into the works?


Eventually the trickery comes to an end. Eventually the desire for reconciliation and justice is satisfied. Eventually the disguise can come off, and the brothers can live forthrightly before each other. Joseph has given his brothers a new future—food in a time of famine, and forgiveness in a family of dysfunction.


And so it is for us with our families. We come to Christ because of our need for something more. Sometimes that need has its roots in the dysfunction in our family and the guilt we carry: the sins of commission for which we are never allowed to atone; the sins of omission we are never allowed to forget. We are driven to Christ—seeking and finding relief.


But what comes next? The temptation is to remain in the land of plenty while family starves for love in a faraway place. Like Joseph in Egypt, who names his children “forgetful” and “fruitful”, we want to forget and prosper on our own. We come to find out that God will not have it so. We are called to go back to the family with a gift; we go back as ambassadors of reconciliation.


But how do we go back? Do we reveal out true colors as Christians, telling out brothers and sisters to forgive and forget? Or do we re-enter the family in disguise and work for reconciliation more subtly? The direct approach is simpler, but confrontational. We get our message out quickly; however, it is likely to be rejected. The indirect approach is harder. We may lose our way; we may be co-opted by the very dysfunction we seek to heal; however, in the midst of the dysfunction we have the chance to see and speak to those we love as they are wrestling with the very hurts we seek to heal.


We go in disguise in order to make up the distance between ourselves and those we love. However, when reconciliation comes, we are free to remove our disguise and love freely even as we are loved.


Points to Ponder


With whom do you need to be reconciled? Have you tried direct reconciliation only to see it fail? Are you willing to go to them on their terms, working with them slowly on their issues?


Benediction


I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:3-6)