Genesis has been written.
These 50 chapters have covered so much ground; the creation of the world, the annihilation of almost all of mankind, the introduction of sin, first jealousy, first love, incredible journeys and the constancy of man’s dependency on God.
The worst of men have succeeded when God’s grace was bestowed upon them, though the costs of his grace have been on occasion steep. And the best of men have found themselves in nearly unbearable circumstances.
Here we are now, the nation of Israel in a strange land, holding onto the great promise of God. It’s unfair I know they are staring in the face of an exodus, when Genesis ends with their relative comfort. But that’s how history works; I get only a glimpse, but my glimpses are of a story that’s already been completed. So while Joseph’s brothers may know the fuller story, they and their families end this chapter of their lives with little idea of the struggles to come.

Read Genesis 40
Wrongful imprisonment must be terrible. But even worse would be false conviction stemming from righteous action. Writing today’s chapter, I was reminded of the Shawshank Redemption; A story about two imprisoned men finding solace and redemption in jail. Like Andy Dufresne, Shawshank’s main character, Joseph rapidly earns privileges while in jail. Both are wrongly convicted, and must contend with their certain resentment for the unfairness of their respective incarcerations. But where Defresne’s redemption is based on his own patience and wisdom, Joseph’s coming redemption stems from his almost-brazen assumption that God will deliver:

Joseph said, “Don’t interpretations come from God? Tell me the dreams.”

His reckless confidence lead to a perfect interpretation of the cupbearer and baker’s dreams. There’s no evidence Joseph had interpreted before - in fact his quote leads me to think he never had. But his certainty in God’s provisions is so great.

I wonder where my confidence is. Is it from myself, my past success or does it stem from a sense that God can perfectly deliver? (That, of course, presumes confidence which is a whole separate discussion.)

What Joseph did - assuming God would come through on something like interpreting a dream - could be characterized as foolish. But it would certainly be foolish to presume God’s ability suffer the same marginal cap as my own, and I think I’d prefer to fail in the face of possibility of success than in the face of sure doom.

Fleeing the land that God has revealed as your home did not work so well for Abram, so God is kind to Isaac and spells it out; Stay put! But unfortunately he didn’t also spell out that it never worked out so well for Abraham to pretend his wife, Sarah, was his sister. So Isaac felt he was in the clear on that, and went to task. Fortunately Abimelech saw “Isaac fondling his wife Rebekah” and was wise. Of course, this is the same Abimelech that Abraham tried to dupe into believing Sarah was his daughter so I’m guessing was he at least a shade doubtful of Isaac’s story in the first place.
Abimelech is right to be angry, and points out just how selfish Isaac was. I think that’s been the root of so many of my frustrations with Abraham too. Interesting how the failures of the father echo so loudly in the son.
God’s grace continues to land on Isaac and a resentment grew in Abimelech’s people. I wonder if it was at least in part the sort of resentment that comes from witnessing a hypocrite at work. The reconciliation between Isaac and Abimelech reinforces that view: this was not an apology, per se. More a recognition that God’s side is the right side, even when the wrong people seem to be on it. Kind of a ‘the friend of my God is my friend, even if he’s my enemy’ sort of proposition. Credit to Abimelech and company for again displaying the maturity I typically associate with God’s team (again, my deficiencies coloring my view of earned favor) and Isaac for accepting their peace offerings.
Thoughts on Genesis 26?

What is going on between brothers bartering over a simple meal with such steep costs? People sure were dramatic then. Hyperbole (“I’m starved”) leads to ransom (“my stew for your birthright”) leads to a rash promise, bound into an oath. There are some strange sibling dynamics at work.
I do appreciate that Rebekah turned to God during her strange pregnancy. An odd characteristic is the tendency so often that figures had to ignore God until he overwhelmed them into corrected focus.
As for Abraham, he married again, had more kids and finally died. I’m not sure the circumstances, but I appreciate that Isaac and Ishmael buried him together. Thought time and time again family doesn’t work out quite the way I would expect (see: Cain and Abel; Lot and his daughters; etc) it seems good that the loss of their father would bring together two men pitted as antagonists through their mothers and children.
Thoughts?

Abraham is nearly the thickest man in history. Or the weakest. After prostituting his wife, then Sarai, to the pharaoh of Egypt he profited his purse greatly though you could reasonably argue that Lot’s misfortune was a direct result of Abraham’s sin. But here he is again willing to sell his wife for some security.
I was angry just reading that. Abimelech was apparently angry about this as well.
This exchange is so telling:

Abimelech went on to Abraham, “Whatever were you thinking of when you did this thing?”

Abraham said, “I just assumed that there was no fear of God in this place and that they’d kill me to get my wife. Besides, the truth is that she is my half sister; she’s my father’s daughter but not my mother’s. When God sent me out as a wanderer from my father’s home, I told her, ‘Do me a favor; wherever we go, tell people that I’m your brother.’”

Abraham answers the question very simply, but I’m not sure he really answered Abimelech at all. In fact, I wonder if this is really a rhetorical question, because there’s really no satisfactory answer.

Abimelech’s servants were shocked, and I continue to be confounded by Abraham.

Surely Abraham didn’t always respond to visitors as he did to God’s visit, with 2 others. So was this an instance where God’s manifest presence was so obviously extra-human, like in The Man Who Was Thursday, that Abraham knew something was up? Did he know he was God or just someone worth respect?
Any questions of their guest’s divinity must have been settled when Sarah’s internal laughter was called out. It’s interesting that she was rebuked for her doubt, given it was internal. The sin that lives in my mind often gets a free pass, but here Sarah’s nailed for the attitude that she doesn’t even give word to.
Where’s Sarah’s doubt was so silent that only God could have known, Abraham’s opposition to Sodom’s planned destruction could not have been more clear. He physically blocked God from leaving, challenged his reasoning then had the tenacity (or audacity?) to bargain with him for the fate of a city. Given his previously displayed affection for Lot, chasing after his rescue at the expense of foreign armies, I’m not surprised. But then again, he must recognize how fully dependant on God he is for everything he has and open resistance had to have been uncomfortable for the pragmatic wanderer.
He must have walked away sure he’d saved the city when God agreed to spare Sodom and Gomorrah for the sake on only ten faithful. Sadly, even our lowest expectations are often too high.

I can’t quite peg Abraham’s laughter. Disbelief or wonder? In either case, the fact that he “recovered” (the message) to check to make sure Ishmael would live tips to Abraham’s general state of piety.

This is the third time God’s spelled out that Abraham would father a nation. Each time the proclamation has come at greater cost though—I imagine Hagar was mortified that Ishmael was Abraham’s promised descendant. I imagine Abraham and Sarah felt a sting of shame that they tried forcing God’s hand earlier. I think recognizes Abraham’s steady struggle with doubt when he tells Abraham when Isaac will be born. My guess is that without that, a few weeks without sign of pregnancy and Abraham wouldn’t been scouring the countryside for other women named Sarah that God must’ve really been talking about.

Thoughts of your own on chapter 17? Comment away.

Abram is promised his children will number as the stars—a big family. No children in the making, so his wife, Sarai, pushed her maid Hagar on Abram and sure enough she gets pregnant. Sarai gets jealous and abuses her until she flees - she returns when an angel comes to her and tells her to a)name her child Ishmael and b)she’ll have a big family.

The chapter ends with Abram naming Hagar’s son Ishmael, so I’m left wondering if Hagar related the whole story of the angel to Abram. If she did, and she told him that she was told the same thing he was—that she would have a “big family”—were Abram and Hagar both thinking the promise God made each of them realized together? Abram’s promises didn’t mention Sarai, and here they already had one child together.
It’s also fascinating that Hagar is told she’d have a big family, but that Ishmael would be at odds with his family. And what was her plea that God heard and responded to? Salvation in the desert? The hope for a child?

Thoughts of your own on chapter 16? Comment away.

When my wife and I talked about this chapter, Jenn was amazed that Abram followed up the verse “and he believed!” with immediate doubt. I have the same feeling about Abram, but at the same time he’s literally facing something as fact defying as a virgin birth. He and his barren wife are supposed to populate a nation and he just can’t see how it’ll happen.
I keep waiting to see a gracious Abram, but maybe I’m demanding too much. I do confess a bit of frustration that he seems spared the punishment that I’m associating with his sometimes-failed faith God promised to Abram’s descendants. Perhaps thought it’s not a punishment; perhaps it’s just the reality of the situation and God’s letting him know in advance.

Thoughts of your own on chapter 15? Comment away.

Kingdoms in Abram’s time and kingdoms now seem very different. I have a friend whose company recently adding a king to their executive board. I did some googling and found that the man in question was king of a small province within a small African nation. I really don’t know how large Kedorlaomer’s kingdom was, but I can’t imagine Abram’s army defeating the army of Wales, much less the army of Wales and other nations. Even more baffling is why Abram exacted such punishment—I understand his nephew was captured, but it seems a more reasonable request to just ask for his release. Especially given the tawdy reputation of the sodomites & co.
Melchizedek is one of the more interesting characters so far. We know from chapter 4 that people started praying and worshiping to God after Adam and Eve’s son, Seth, was born. But I tend to assume the people we read about are the only believers. In fact, I head a sermon at noted church once where the pastor inferred that anyone mentioned in the Bible by name without the attribution of faith must have been against God. But here is a priest of God (and a king to boot). My inference is that to be a priest, you need a people. So were there other believers around, apart from Abram and Lot? If so, what did they think about their neighbors?
It’s hard to miss the reference to Abram’s gift to the priest—he hands over a tenth of his plunder. We’ve previously seen offerings, but this is the first time we’ve had a gift in the shape of a tithe - traditionally one tenth of your earnings given to the church.
Between the tithe and Melchizedek, I’m reminded that the Bible is not the entire history of God’s interaction with man. Adam spent a long time in the garden (there were a lot of animals to name) and we only know a little of that story. It’s possible that there were a line of faithful after the flood beyond Abram, or that God interjected and called Melchizedek. Or perhaps there’s an in-between. But I’m reminded we’re only seeing a part, though the part I trust is sufficient.