The Old Testament story of Joseph is great, right? Young man gets sold into slavery by his brothers but slowly rises from the ashes to become the second most powerful man in Egypt… Just in time to save his family from a devestating famine. You can see why they turned it into a musical; the coat thing is just the icing on the cake.
And then you read Genesis 47.
Famine has struck the land, but thanks to his visionary dreams, Joseph has been able to prepare Egypt for disaster by stockpiling grain. Only Joseph’s idea of famine relief involves everyone selling all they have to buy food. And when they’re out of money, he takes their land. And after he’s taken their land, he makes them work for their survival.
Yep, Joseph and his boss Pharaoh become very rich on the back of this particular act of philanthropy. This is the context in which Joseph’s family come to live in Egypt – little brother has pretty much enslaved the population
There’s a theory that the Bible’s story of liberation starts with Exodus, with Genesis serving as more of a prequel. This casts something of a dark light over the story of Moses, which is set about 400 years after Joseph. The Israelites are now slaves. Their fortunes were reversed.
You think there might be a connection?
There’s s lesson here – Joseph used the famine (and, I guess the divine insight into the situation given to him by God) to oppress the vulnerable of Egypt, and in doing so bound himself to a system that would ultimately result in his descendents being enslaved). And so God gets them out of Egypt, but hundreds of years later the Israelites decide they want a king and wise guy Solomon ends up making the same mistakes and the whole cycle of oppression then exile starts again.
It’s easy to create systems that we think are benefiting ourselves and our communities, but which end up oppressing those around us. And whether that’s through society and politics, or through religion and the church, a system that binds others also binds us alongside them. Problem is we don’t notice this because we’re reaping the rewards.
Until, of course, the day we turn around and notice the system is collapsing, and those people on the receiving end of oppression aren’t as sympathetic as we’d like them to be.
The easiest answer to this is not to oppress people in the first place. Trouble is, when you’re embedded in abusive systems, it’s hard to see that. That’s when it’s time to ask some searching questions: who isn’t represented on our boards and legislature and church councils? Who’s on the receiving end of our tracts and polemics and yes, our vitriol? Who have we weaponised our systems against? How do we start to beat those systems into ploughshares?
And when we’ve answered those questions, ask where God is at work among the people who don’t benefit from our dream coated utopia as much as we do. Because he’ll be there, on the margins, speaking to those we render voiceless, standing alongside those we wish were invisible. The question is whether we want to stand with him, or with the idols we’ve created in our own image?