From Guilt to Grace

Judah’s Journey of Redemption

Growing up with a brother is like having a built-in best friend and rival all rolled into one. My brother and I were no exception. We were always up to some adventure—or mischief—and one particular afternoon remains etched in my memory forever.

We had this old wooden bunk bed that, depending on the day, served as a pirate ship, spaceship, or a wrestling ring. That day, it was a battleground. We were playing one of our usual wrestling matches, each determined to be the reigning champion of our imaginary world. With all the energy and bravado two young boys could muster, we were locked in an epic struggle, grappling and laughing as we tried to pin each other down.

In the heat of the battle, I got the upper hand. I lunged at my brother with one final move, and before I knew it, he toppled over the side of the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud. The room went silent, and I was frozen in shock for a brief moment. Then I heard him gasping for air, desperately trying to catch his breath.

Panic set in. “Oh no,” I thought, “I’ve done it this time.” My brother lay there, struggling to breathe, and all I could think was, “I’m the worst.” Despite his best efforts to get air into his lungs, he could only wheeze, trying to form words. His face was flushed, and he was attempting to call for help–to call for Mom, but all that came out were raspy breaths and unintelligible sounds.

We indeed love our brothers, but because we love them so much, we also experience a lot of conflict. We fight with our siblings. One study shows that siblings are most children’s second biggest cause of stress. The mere birth of a sibling was listed as number six.

Conflicts with brothers are so universal and timeless that they appear throughout the Bible’s first book. Think of the first sibling relationship in Genesis, Cain and Abel… spoiler alert–it doesn’t end well. Abraham’s two sons, Ishmael and Isaac, don’t even get to fight because he exiles Ishmael to keep them apart. Isaac’s twin sons resent each other so much that Jacob tricks Esau out of his inheritance and then must flee for his life. It should be no surprise that Jacob’s sons have a very strained relationship. The last third of the book of Genesis is about Joseph and his fraught family dynamic.

The story of Joseph is familiar, perhaps one of the most dramatic stories in all of Scripture. It begins in Genesis 37 with Jacob’s favorite child, Joseph, who makes his brothers even more jealous by telling them about a dream in which they all bow down to him. So they dump young Joe in a pit and sell him into slavery. Fast forward, and Joseph is doing very well for himself in Egypt. He becomes known as an interpreter of dreams and rises as the second most powerful man in the whole nation. Eventually, he is reconciled with his brothers and reunited with his father.

Joseph is not just a good guy. He’s a great guy. Everything seems to turn out well for him. The author of Genesis writes, “Whatever he did, the LORD made it succeed.” (Gen 29:23b). Even the Pharoah of Egypt recognizes that there is no one else “in whom is the Spirit of God” (Gen 41:37). Joseph loses everything, but gains all of it back and more. He embodies the traits described in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians: purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness, love, truthfulness, and the power of God. Joseph is recognized alongside his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather in Hebrews 11 among the litany of men and women of faith.

Some even suggest Joseph’s character and story sound much like someone else with a J-name. Joseph’s suffering at the hands of his brothers, in a sense, previews what Jesus would later experience at the hands of humanity. Jesus not only took on flesh and dwelled among us but became our brother. A brother we crucified.

But here’s the weird part. While Joseph may have been a great model of the Christ who was to come, the Messiah is not descended from Joseph. Does anyone know which of Jacob’s sons is the ancestor of Jesus?

It’s Judah. So let’s rewind and go back through the story of Joseph through the eyes of Judah.

Judah was there when the brothers stripped Joseph of his beautiful robe and threw him into the pit. As the brothers plotted Joseph’s death, Judah devised his own plan. He notices some merchants passing by and sees an opportunity. He pulls his brother out of the pit and says to the rest, “Come, let us sell him… and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.” (Gen 37:26-27). Now, selling your brother may sound horrifying to us. Still, apparently, his argument convinces the other boys, and they sell Joseph into slavery (for less than what Judas receives for selling out Jesus).

Now, I don’t know what you think about Judah. He’s not Cain, but he’s still a bit cruel. Although he plucks his brother from death, he still sells him into captivity. I like to believe that, in some ways, Judah was trying his best to protect his brother, even if it was in a limited way. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably wonder what became of my little brother Joseph, and if there was ever anything more I could’ve done to protect him.

Years go by, and famine has swept the ancient world. Judah and his brothers are essentially starving to death. But thanks to Joseph’s careful planning, Egypt has plenty of food in reserve. When the brothers hear about the food in Egypt, most pack up and head there to buy grain. They get what they want, but when Joseph hears about his younger brother, Benjamin, whom he has never met, he holds Simeon hostage until the brothers return with their youngest sibling.

Judah and the remaining brothers return to Jacob and ask to bring Benjamin back to Egypt. Jacob can’t stand losing another son, but Judah steps up and promises to protect his younger brother. Jacob reluctantly agrees to let Benjamin go, trusting Judah’s word.

There’s a shift happening with Judah. Something has been stirring deep within his soul. The brothers return to Egypt, and when Joseph demands that Benjamin stay with him, Judah gets in the way. He refuses to lose another brother to slavery. He delivers a long and heart-rending plea that Benjamin be spared. He says, “You can’t have him–take me instead.” Joseph is so moved by Judah’s actions that he weeps so loud that he can be heard across the Pharaoh’s palace. Finally, he reveals his identity to his brothers. Shaken but reunited, the whole family settled in Egypt, including Jacob, who lives to see his beloved Joseph again.

Before Jacob dies, he speaks words over each of his sons. For Judah, he gives a blessing that reveals the coming generations would not bow to Joseph but to Judah, who is described as something like a king. That’s the last we hear about Judah, but eventually, a descendant of his named David becomes the greatest king of Israel. And after that, one of David’s descendants proclaims the Kingdom of God as the king of kings.

Judah’s story is one of redemptive hope—not because he was righteous and pure but because God abounds in love and grace. While we know that Joseph’s story is inspiring, I hope that Judah’s story inspires us, too, because I suspect we are more like Judah than Joseph.

Now, maybe you can’t relate to selling your own brother into slavery. (I don’t think I ever wished such harm on my brother, even that time he smacked me in the head with a shovel.) However, we could admit that we tend to lean more towards selfishness than selflessness. Towards being envious instead of generous. Towards the flaws of Judah rather than the do no wrongs of Joseph.

But if we’re willing to repent and allow God to move through us, there is hope. Let the story of Judah be a mirror in our lives so that we can see what we’ve done wrong and how our God of mercy works in our lives. Throughout Judah’s story, God works in ways Judah can’t even recognize. Judah goes from forcing his own brother into slavery to offering to enter slavery himself. Judah’s actions set into motion a story of liberation: the Exodus. Judah’s family branches out to David and then to Jesus Christ himself.

So take hope. Through the transformative power of grace, God uses our dysfunctional decisions to accomplish abundantly more than we can ask or imagine.

Ephesians 3:16-21 (NIV)

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.