The Pit
Use these materials to go deeper into this message on your own, or with your small group.
Series Overview
Scripture Passage Handout
Sermon Questions
Good morning Chapel family. Welcome to the third Sunday of Lent. We’re calling this series “Lead me to the Cross,” because we are convinced that all of Scripture—not just the Gospels—the whole Bible is ultimately about Jesus—especially his death and resurrection. So each week we’re preparing our hearts for Easter by looking at some very familiar Old Testament stories with fresh eyes. And we’re asking, “What does this teach me about Jesus and the cross, and what he’s done for me, and how I can live for him?”
So today we come to the famous story of Joseph. It’s an epic story—it takes up fourteen chapters in the book of Genesis. But here’s something that really stands out: throughout Joseph’s life, he was mistreated over and over again. So to understand who Joseph was, and who he became, we need to look closely at the mistreatment he received, and how he responded to it.
You know why this matters so much? Because in this life, you and I will be mistreated. You already knew that. In this broken, fallen world, you and I will be mistreated. Maybe not in the same ways as Joseph; maybe not in the same ways as the person sitting next to you; but you will be insulted and disrespected and excluded and stabbed in the back and punched in the gut and attacked and ignored…and I’m sure you already have.
So as we walk through Joseph’s life, and as you reflect on your own life, I’m going to use a physical thing to symbolize the mistreatment we receive. This bag represents your life. And these rocks represent the ways you’ve been mistreated. Some of them are little rocks—like when someone cuts you off on Route 287. Some of them are big rocks—like when your spouse or your girlfriend or boyfriend cheats on you. But every time you’re mistreated, another rock goes into your bag. Joseph had a lot of rocks in his bag. And I know some of you do, too. The rocks are real and they’re heavy. But here’s what you need to see: the person you become in this life is influenced hugely—maybe more than anything else—by how you respond to these rocks.
So—I’m going to divide today’s message into two parts. And the first part is called Mistreatment Received. When you look at Joseph’s story, there are three main episodes of mistreatment that he received. The first one, I’m going to call Abuse. Let’s set the scene. Joseph was the second-to-youngest of Jacob’s twelve sons. And early in the story, we get a window into Joseph’s relationship with his dad. Look with me at Genesis 37, verse 3: 3 Now Israel [which is another name for Jacob] loved Joseph more than any of his other sons, because he had been born to him in his old age; and he made an ornate robe for him. 4 When his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of them, they hated him and could not speak a kind word to him. So you can already see the family dysfunction, right? Favoritism; sibling rivalry. This is not good.
Look what happens next—verse 5: 5 Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him all the more. 6 He said to them, “Listen to this dream I had: 7 We were binding sheaves of grain out in the field when suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright, while your sheaves gathered around mine and bowed down to it.” 8 His brothers said to him, “Do you intend to reign over us? Will you actually rule us?” And they hated him all the more because of his dream and what he had said. Right after that, he has another dream, where the sun and the moon and eleven stars
(remember how many brothers he had? Eleven…) were all bowing down to him. And his family’s thinking, “You’ve got be kidding.”
And eventually, all of that bad blood comes to a head. The older brothers are out tending the flocks, and dad sends 17-year-old Joseph out to check on his brothers. The brothers see him coming, and they consider killing him, but they decide to throw him into a cistern—which is like a well. Pick up the story in verse 23: 23 So when Joseph came to his brothers, they stripped him of his robe—the ornate robe he was wearing— 24 and they took him and threw him into the cistern. The cistern was empty; there was no water in it.
25 As they sat down to eat their meal, they looked up and saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead. Their camels were loaded with spices, balm and myrrh, and they were on their way to take them down to Egypt.
26 Judah said to his brothers, “What will we gain if we kill our brother and cover up his blood? 27 Come, let’s sell him to the Ishmaelites and not lay our hands on him; after all, he is our brother, our own flesh and blood.” His brothers agreed.
28 So when the Midianite merchants came by, his brothers pulled Joseph up out of the cistern and sold him for twenty shekels of silver to the Ishmaelites, who took him to Egypt. This is an old pencil drawing of the moment he was pulled out of the cistern and sold to the Ishmaelites—by his own brothers.
So Joseph was physically overpowered, violently stripped of his clothing, forced into a hole in the ground, and sold like a piece of property. I’d say that qualifies as abuse, wouldn’t you? Some of you know that all too well, because you’ve been the victim of abuse. And I tread very carefully here, because I know how intensely personal and traumatic abuse is. But some of you have lived this. You grew up with a father who lashed out at you physically, or a mother who lashed out at you verbally. Or you had a boyfriend or husband who couldn’t control their angry outbursts of belittling insults or physical violence or sexual abuse. Abuse is confusing, and terrifying, and dehumanizing. And every time we experience it, there’s a heavy rock that goes into this bag that we carry through life. If you have some of those rocks in your bag, I am so sorry. And I need you to know that God cares—and he weeps with you. If you’re being abused right now, please reach out for help, and get yourself to a safe place. And if you’ve ever been abused, I need you to hear this: even if it seems like your abuser got away with it, one day they will answer to God.
The rocks of abuse are some of the heaviest we will ever have to carry. So as he was carried off to Egypt by Ishmaelite merchants, Joseph was feeling that weight in his bag.
The second kind of mistreatment is Accusation. The story takes a very interesting turn here. Look with me at Genesis 39, verse 1: 1 Now Joseph had been taken down to Egypt. Potiphar, an Egyptian who was one of Pharaoh’s officials, the captain of the guard, bought him from the Ishmaelites who had taken him there. 2 The LORD was with Joseph so that he prospered, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master. 3 When his master saw that the LORD was with him and that the LORD gave him success in everything he did, 4 Joseph found favor in his eyes and became his attendant. Potiphar put him in charge of his household, and he entrusted to his care everything he owned.
That’s a nice break, right? Instead of getting assigned to dig holes or make bricks or some kind of back-breaking labor, Joseph winds up in the home of an Egyptian government official named Potiphar. He quickly wins the respect of his master, and he gets promoted to a position of high trust and high responsibility in the household. Potiphar realizes that there’s something about this kid, and the writer
of Genesis tells us what that something is: the LORD was with him. It actually says that twice, to make sure we don’t miss it. And as you read the story, and watch how Joseph acts, and listen to what he says, you realize Joseph knew it, too. He knew God was with him. In this strange place, with all the trauma he’s experienced and all that had been stripped away from him, he knew God hadn’t left him.
And then the story takes another turn—pick it up midway through Genesis 39:6…Now Joseph was well-built and handsome, 7 and after a while his master’s wife took notice of Joseph and said, “Come to bed with me!” This was a woman who was probably used to getting what she wanted—the wife of a powerful Egyptian official. And the way that she propositions Joseph makes it very clear that she is the one in charge, and he is the slave. In fact, in English it says, “Come to bed with me;” in some English versions it says, “Lie with me.” In the Hebrew it’s just two words, and it’s a very blunt command. Tim Keller suggested that you could translate this, “Sex, now.” She wasn’t messing around.
Verse 8: But he refused. Verse 10: 10 And though she spoke to Joseph day after day, he refused to go to bed with her or even be with her.
11 One day he went into the house to attend to his duties, and none of the household servants was inside. 12 She caught him by his cloak and said, “Come to bed with me!” But he left his cloak in her hand and ran out of the house. This is a painting by Luis Mateu from around 1630, depicting that moment of temptation.
Verse 16: 16 She kept his cloak beside her until his master came home. 17 Then she told him this story: “That Hebrew slave you brought us came to me to make sport of me. 18 But as soon as I screamed for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.”
19 When his master heard the story his wife told him, saying, “This is how your slave treated me,” he burned with anger. 20 Joseph’s master took him and put him in prison, the place where the king’s prisoners were confined.
So for doing the right thing—for refusing to get involved with this married woman—Joseph winds up in prison. One of the guys in my men’s group said, “Joseph must have been thinking, ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’” So once again, Joseph is in the pit. Another rock has been added to his bag. This time it’s the rock of accusation. False accusation, to be specific. And I know some of you are carrying that rock in your bag. Because you’ve been accused of something by one of your children, or by your spouse or ex-spouse, or by someone at work. And the accusation is simply not true, but the other person insists on it, and they’re probably telling other people about it. It’s possible that false accusation has ruined your reputation. Or it’s just made you depressed. And you feel like you’re sitting in the darkness of a pit. Do you have any false accusation rocks in your bag?
As if that’s not enough, Joseph experiences one more kind of mistreatment. I’ll call it Abandonment. So once again, when he’s in prison, things take an encouraging turn—look at Genesis 39, halfway through verse 20: But while Joseph was there in the prison, 21 the LORD was with him; he showed him kindness and granted him favor in the eyes of the prison warden. 22 So the warden put Joseph in charge of all those held in the prison, and he was made responsible for all that was done there. So again, Joseph rises to the top because God is with him.
And then he gets his big break: in that same prison, he meets two guys: the chief cupbearer and the baker of the king of Egypt. They’ve offended the king somehow, so they’ve been thrown in prison, and Joseph is put in charge of them. And one night, both of them have very vivid dreams. And the next morning they say, “We had these weird dreams, and we can’t figure them out.” And Joseph says, “All interpretations belong to God. Tell me your dreams.” So they tell Joseph what they dreamed. And for
the baker, it’s bad news: his dream means that in three days, Pharaoh is going to pull him out of prison and have his head cut off. But for the cupbearer, his dream is good news: in three days, Pharaoh will pull him out of prison and restore him to his position. And Joseph says to the cupbearer, “Please—when you get out of here—put in a good word for me.” So sure enough, three days later is Pharaoh’s birthday, so he has a big feast. And as part of the festivities, he releases these two guys from prison; he takes off the head of the baker, and he restores the cupbearer to his coveted position. And Genesis chapter 40 ends with these depressing words: The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph; he forgot him. Oof.
Do you know the feeling of being forgotten? Abandoned? It’s a traumatic thing to experience. Maybe you were abandoned by your father before you were born. Or maybe even more painfully—he abandoned you after you were born. I know many of you have been abandoned by your spouse—you heard the devastating words that they didn’t want to be married anymore. They had found someone else, or they were just done with you. Having raised four kids, and having been a kid, I know how common it is, in middle school and high school, to feel abandoned by your friends—just left out or overlooked. Some of you know what it’s like to walk into a classroom or a cafeteria and feel invisible—like it literally doesn’t matter to anyone that you’re there. And whenever you feel abandoned like that, there’s another heavy rock that gets dropped into your bag.
It's almost hard to believe that one person could be mistreated in so many ways. Isn’t it? After a brief childhood of being his dad’s favorite, Joseph had been brutally abused and falsely accused and utterly abandoned. Rock after rock had been put into his bag. And sitting there in that prison, year after year, it’s hard to imagine how one person could carry that heavy of a bag. I have a good friend who suffered a series of tremendous losses over a period of a few years. And after about the fourth traumatic thing that happened, he said, “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.” The weight was just overwhelming. Maybe that’s how you’re feeling. Your bag is just really heavy.
Over the years, I’ve noticed that when we’re feeling the weight of our bag, it tends to bring out certain things in us. Very often, we feel sorry for ourselves. Sometimes we complain about it to other people: “Have you seen what’s in my bag? Can you believe they did this to me?” Sometimes we compare: “You call that a bag of rocks?! Let me tell you about my bag!” And then here’s where it gets ugly—we dream about getting revenge. We’d love to take that heavy bag of rocks and turn it into a weapon to get even with the jerks that messed up our life, right? Make them feel at least a little of the pain they’ve caused us. So we allow our bag of rocks to define us, and we start defining ourselves as victims. Because we have been sinned against. And in that sense, we are just like Joseph.
And yet…Joseph had a secret. Joseph knew something about life…about reality…about God…that dramatically affected the way he responded to his bag of rocks. Which brings us to point number 2:
Mistreatment Redeemed. Mistreatment redeemed. So after he’s been forgotten by the cupbearer, Joseph sits in that prison for two more years. And then something happens. Pharaoh himself has a dream, and it disturbs him. So he sends for all his wise men, but none of them can interpret the dream. The cupbearer hears about it, and he says, “Wait! I totally forgot! That time you threw me in prison—I had a weird dream, and there was this young Hebrew guy there, and he interpreted my dream, and it turned out exactly like he said!” So Pharaoh sends for Joseph, and he says, “I heard you’re the dream guy.” And I love Joseph’s answer—he says, “Not me. But God will give Pharaoh the answer he desires.”
So Pharaoh tells him his dream. He says, “I was standing on the bank of the Nile River, and out from the river came seven fat cows, and they were swallowed up by seven skinny cows.” And Joseph says,
“Here’s what it means: you’re about to experience seven years of abundance all through the land. But right after that, there’s going to be seven years of severe famine. So here’s my advice: find a wise leader, and put him in charge of gathering extra grain over the next seven years, and store it all up so you’ll have enough to eat during the seven years of famine.” And Pharaoh is so impressed with the interpretation and the counsel, he says, “Joseph, you’re hired.” So Joseph is made the second-most powerful person in all of Egypt. You talk about a life of ups and downs, right?
And sure enough, the next seven years are abundant, and Joseph works the plan—he aggressively taxes everyone a big portion of their grain, and stores it up. And after that seventh year, the famine hits hard. The crops dry up; the farms shut down. And word gets out that the only nation in the whole area that has food is Egypt. So pretty soon, here comes this line of people, from the surrounding nations, coming to Joseph and asking for food. Including, guess who? Joseph’s brothers. Those rats.
They come and appear before Joseph. And this is high drama—because they don’t recognize him! He’s all decked out in his Egyptian outfit, and he’s the last person in the world the brothers expect to see. So they don’t recognize him, but after a while Joseph can’t take the suspense. Genesis 45:1…1 Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all his attendants, and he cried out, “Have everyone leave my presence!” So there was no one with Joseph when he made himself known to his brothers. 2 And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard him, and Pharaoh’s household heard about it. 3 Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph! Is my father still living?” But his brothers were not able to answer him, because they were terrified at his presence. Can you even imagine? I’ve read this so many times, and still, every time I read verse 3, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Now, why were the brothers so terrified? Because they never forgot what they did to him…and they could only assume he never forgot either.
Keep reading in verse 4: 4 Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! 5 And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. 6 For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. 7 But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance. 8a “So then, it was not you who sent me here, but God. And that’s followed by an amazing scene of reconciliation and weeping and embracing. If this doesn’t just melt your heart, you don’t have a heart.
So the brothers go back and get their father Jacob, and there’s another incredible reconciliation between Joseph and his father, who can’t believe his son is still alive. So the whole family comes to live in Egypt. Seventeen years go by, and old Jacob dies—and the brothers are afraid that now that dad’s out of the picture, now Joseph is going to get his revenge. And Joseph finds out what they’re thinking, and he speaks these beautiful words—Genesis 50, verses 19 and 20: But Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” That first part of verse 20 is one of the most powerful truths in all of Scripture. The Hebrew literally says, “You intended it for evil, but God intended it for good.”
What do you do with all the rocks in your bag—all the wrongs that have been done with you? Because those are real wrongs. You can’t pretend they don’t exist—they’re part of your story. They are reality.
But, there is another reality that Joseph knew. He knew that God was sovereign. What does that mean? Well, it means God is in control. And Joseph had an incredibly high view of the sovereignty of God. He says, “It wasn’t really you who sent me here! It was God!”
Now wait a minute. Does that mean the brothers weren’t responsible and weren’t culpable for what they did? Not at all! In fact, one of the first things Joseph says to them is “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt!” So Joseph wasn’t re-writing history. He knew they did it, and he knew it was evil. Not only that, but the brothers’ intention in what they did was pure evil. Genesis 50:20—You intended to harm me. So their intention was wrong; their actions were wrong. They were all wrong! Joseph was not letting the brothers off the hook.
And yet, God was still sovereign over it, and using it for his plans. Listen: God is never the author of evil! But he steers it and he uses it and he redeems it for good. The New Testament echoes this same truth—the most famous place is Romans 8:28—And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. In all things God works for good. Even in the things that were wrong and meant for wrong—even in the most painful rocks in your bad—God has this brilliant ability to turn it and redeem it and use it for good.
So Joseph says, “God took your evil act, and that’s how He got me to Egypt, and if I hadn’t come to Egypt I wouldn’t have been thrown in Potiphar’s prison, and if I hadn’t been thrown in Potiphar’s prison I wouldn’t have heard Pharaoh’s dreams, and if I hadn’t heard Pharaoh’s dreams no one would have known about the famine that was coming, and if no one knew about the famine, tons of people would have died, and the Jewish nation would have been wiped out. Through all the mistreatment and chaos and pain, God had masterfully worked all things for good.
And let me add one more thing: because the nation of Israel survived, the line of the Messiah was preserved. See, the more you look at the life of Joseph, the more you realize that his life points us forward to the Messiah.
Think about it: Joseph was rejected by his own people; so was Jesus. Joseph was sold for a handful of silver; so was Jesus. They stripped Joseph of his clothing and abandoned him to die. They did the same to Jesus. See, the story of Joseph is ultimately the story of Jesus. And here’s the biggest reason: what Joseph’s brothers did to him, they meant for evil, but God meant it for good. And what the religious leaders and Romans did to Jesus, they meant for evil…but God meant it for good. God raised Joseph from the pit, and through him, he saved the lives of countless people. God raised Jesus from the dead, and through him, brought salvation to the world.
Do you see it? Jesus is the greater Joseph—he’s the ultimate Joseph. And when we’re following Jesus, our little world of self-pity and victim mentality and anger starts to change. Because we realize that—yes—our mistreatment is a reality. But there’s a more powerful reality: God is sovereign, and he is working all things for good.
So let me ask you a question, and it’s a really important one: Which reality will you dwell on more? Your mistreatment, or God’s sovereignty? Which reality will you allow to define you?
If you’re feeling the weight of all the rocks in your bag right now, here’s the best thing I can tell you: take it to the cross. That won’t change the reality of what’s been done to you. But the cross will help you to see the more powerful reality of this sovereign God who loves you and will never, ever forsake you.
And when you see all that—you will finally be able to do this (drop bag at cross). And you’ll be able to say, “I choose to be defined by this (point to cross), and not by that (point to the sack of rocks).” And you will finally be free.