Instruments of God’s Providence

All of God’s people have a role to play in the good purposes of His providence. Today, listen as Sinclair Ferguson examines the way that God used Joseph to achieve reconciliation with his brothers.

A few weeks ago on Things Unseen, I suggested that the reason Satan tempted Eve before he tempted Adam was because the strongest leverage the devil has is often found in manipulating God’s best gifts. That’s what makes him so hateful. He doesn’t use discarded trash; he uses the best to try to bring about the worst. Think about marriage. How is it that two people who couldn’t bear to be apart from each other a few years later can’t stand being in the same house and get divorced? The old Roman proverb was right: corruptio optimi pessima est—the worst is the corruption of the best.

One of God’s very best gifts, obviously, is family. He sets the solitary in families, we are told, and we know that family life is one of God’s greatest blessings to us. But that’s exactly why Satan seeks to corrupt and to destroy families. And the dysfunctional family life that’s become so characteristic of the twenty-first century is surely one of the devil’s greatest triumphs. But this week, we’ve been thinking about a biblical illustration of a dysfunctional family in the story of the family of Jacob and the story of Joseph, in Genesis 37–50.

What a mess: an unwise father, a naive and apparently self-centered youngest son, jealous brothers, a potent cocktail of sinful tendencies that led to a great deal of misery for all of them. And yet, in His providence, God transformed it. Yesterday, we were thinking about the way in which God’s providence unraveled and began to untwist Jacob.

And today, I want to reflect with you for a moment about how he did the same thing in Joseph’s brothers. They were jealous of him and angry with him, and they sold him into slavery, and then they deceived their father into believing he had been killed. And then, no doubt, they tried their hardest to forget about him—out of sight, out of mind. But while they tried to forget, God was working, and because of a providential need that affected the ancient Near East, they found themselves—all unknown to themselves—standing in the presence of their brother but not recognizing him. Neither they nor Joseph himself could imagine that their past circumstances were going to be the instruments of God’s providence to transform them. But it looks as though Joseph realized that he had come to the kingdom, Pharaoh’s kingdom, but also God’s kingdom just for such a time as this. And he does some very significant things.

First, he tells his brothers to bring their youngest brother down to Egypt with them to prove that they’re innocent and not spies. In a way, he must have known that would break his father’s heart but also that his father’s heart needed to be broken. And the brother’s response is fascinating. They say to each other, “In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul”—they’re speaking about Joseph—“the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen” (Gen 42:21). After all these years, their consciences are being pricked and bursting open, and at last, they confess their sin and their guilt.

And then, you remember, when they did bring Benjamin down, Joseph arranged for them to be seated for a dinner in the order of their birth. If you’re good at probability calculations, you’ll be able to work out how unlikely it is that this would happen by accident, and the brothers were astounded. They must have felt that something totally supernatural had happened. If someone knew the order of their birth, then could it be that someone had been watching them all along? No wonder they were amazed. They must have had some sense that God was watching them and that something was afoot.

And then Joseph tightened the screw in a very interesting way. They all got food from Joseph’s own table, but Benjamin was served a portion five times the size of any of the others. I think that’s what you might call favoritism, but that’s the point, isn’t it? Joseph was turning out to be God’s providential instrument of testing the brothers to see whether the work of grace that had begun in them had now delivered them from jealousy and hatred of their youngest brother.

And then do you remember what Joseph did? He had his own silver cup placed in Benjamin’s sack. And when it was found, they’re all dragged back to Egypt. What’s going to happen to Benjamin? And do you remember that Judah pleaded with Joseph for mercy, not just because of Benjamin but because of his concern over what it would do to his father, Jacob, if Benjamin didn’t return home? A marvelous illustration of a transformation in his heart.

And then, of course, the brothers eventually find themselves being embraced by Joseph, and embracing him in return, and bringing Jacob and the whole family to Egypt, just as God had promised to Abraham would happen one day to his descendants.

What does this part of the story teach us? It teaches us that God keeps His promises, but it also teaches us that he gives wisdom to his children to help them understand their role in His purposes. So perhaps in the midst of the confusion and sin of the world around us, instead of just complaining about it, you should be asking the Lord for wisdom to be an instrument of His providence, to bring healing and reconciliation, and yes, perhaps even to lead people to faith.