As Long as the Candle Burns

“Then ten of Joseph’s brothers went down to buy grain from Egypt.” — Genesis 42:3

This Torah portion for this week, Mikeitz, is from Genesis 41:1–44:17 and 1 Kings 3:1–4:1.

By the time Jacob’s sons go down to Egypt because of the famine in Canaan, Joseph has been gone for 22 years. So the Sages find it strange that in the Scriptures, the ten brothers are referred to as “Joseph’s brothers.” They haven’t had anything to do with Joseph for over two decades and they certainly hadn’t acted much like brothers the last time they saw Joseph! Wouldn’t "Jacob’s sons" have been a more appropriate term?

The Sages explain that they are called “Joseph’s brothers” in order to teach us that when they came down to Egypt, they were indeed behaving like family. They had long regretted their act of selling Joseph and were desperate to find him. But that leads to another question: Why would they even imagine that Joseph would still be alive? The life expectancy for slaves in Egypt wasn’t very long!

It’s Only a Season

Trish and I have been talking a lot lately about seasons of life. As parents of two teenagers and one that drives, we have entered a new season of life. New seasons of life can be exciting. But not all seasons of life feel good. They can be painful, lonely, heart-wrenching or dry.

As I think about people in Scripture, their lives seemed to have seasons. Jacob went through a season of being deceitful, then a season of running. Joseph went through a season of being the favorite, then a season of being resented, then a season of being forgotten in an Egyptian prison, then a season of great success. 

Get a Move On!

JOYCE MEYER

We keep going around the same mountains instead of making progress. 

The Israelites wandered around in the wilderness for 40 years making what was actually an 11-day journey. Why? Was it their enemies, their circumstances, the trials along the way, or something else that prevented them from arriving at their destination?

As I pondered this situation, the Lord said to me, "The children of Israel spent 40 years in the wilderness making an 11-day trip because they had a wilderness mentality."

God called the children of Israel out of bondage in Egypt and directed them to go to the land He had promised to give them as a perpetual inheritance--a land that flowed with milk and honey and every good thing they could imagine; a land in which there was no shortage of everything they needed; a land of prosperity in every realm of their existence.

But the Israelites had no positive vision for their lives--no dreams. They knew where they came from, but they did not know where they were going. They did not know how to see with "the eye of faith."

Turn, Turn, Turn

With gratitude to God, I write these words overlooking the walls of Jerusalem just two hours before the holyday of Sukot starts and just two miles from where King David himself celebrated Tabernacles. 

Yet, even while wrapped in Jerusalem’s eternal spiritual transcendence, I am typing on a first rate computer connected to high speed Internet in an air-conditioned office.

Many cities like Istanbul, Prague, and Tallinn display similar contrasts between ancient and modern.  But Israel’s ever-present ancient aura is the fuel propelling the country into modernity.

With fewer than 10% of the population of her four contiguous neighbors, Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon, Israel’s Gross Domestic Product is about equivalent to the aggregate of those four countries.  Imagine if tiny Rhode Island produced more wealth than Georgia.  Instead, as you’d expect, Rhode Island’s GDP is about 1/10th of Georgia, which has about ten times the population of Rhode Island.

One explanation routinely offered for the abysmal economic performance by Israel’s four neighbors is Israel’s existence.  There are problems with that excuse.  One, they weren’t doing any better before 1948 or before they launched several unsuccessful wars against Israel.  Two, being surrounded by enemies, the monumental costs of self-defense impose a disproportionate burden upon the tiny Jewish state. 

From Grapes to Wine

Why have you broken down its walls
so that all who pass by pick its grapes?" —Psalm 80:12

In Psalm 80, the Psalmist has a question for God. Using a grapevine as a metaphor, King David describes how God took the children of Israel out of Egypt and planted them in the Promised Land. There, they took root and flourished, covering the land with their sweet fruit. Yet, over time, the situation changed, causing the Psalmist to write: "Why have you broken down its walls so that all who pass by pick its grapes?" After all that work, why has God allowed his precious vineyard to be pummeled and ravaged? Why has the God of Israel allowed His people to be all but destroyed?

The prophet Hosea, as if answering King David’s question, had this to say: "Israel was a spreading vine; he brought forth fruit for himself. As his fruit increased, he built more altars; as his land prospered, he adorned his sacred stones. Their heart is deceitful, and now they must bear their guilt" (Hosea 10:1–2). Translation: While the Israelites blossomed and thrived in the land of Israel, their abundant blessings led them toward idolatry instead of toward God. In the place of thankfulness, they substituted forgetfulness. They forgot who had blessed them and what they were supposed to accomplish with all that they had been given.