The Weight of Guilt

When we arrive at Genesis 42, it is worth remembering here that Egypt is the house of bondage. Yes, Joseph had turned into a house of bread; but that doesn’t change the fact that Egypt remains the house of bondage in Scripture.1 It is also worth considering now whether these brothers of Joseph were yet regenerated. They had given much evidence that they were not, up until this point.

And notice the difference in who is sent to whom—back in Chapter 37, the father sent his favored son to the wandering sons of Israel. Here, the same father sends his famished and wandering sons to him who has bread for the life of the world. The exact sequence is not meant to be read too much into for any order of salvation. It is enough that their preparation for reconciliation is symbolized. And by “preparation,” I mean them getting squeezed by God, and like a magnet, drawn to and then back to Egypt. And the “squeezing” or “weighting” instrument is GUILT.

• Guilt weighs through destitution.

• Guilt weighs through mistreatment.

• Guilt weighs through dilemmas.

• Guilt weighs through shame.

Doctrine. The guilt of sin pulls us down to the house of bondage.    

Guilt weighs through destitution.

We will learn soon enough, even from other parts of Scripture, that God was moving all of the pieces on this historical board. As far as the family was concerned, the bell had tolled and the consequences for an old evil could no longer be avoided. It was the father, Jacob, who gave the order, ‘Go down and buy grain for us there, that we may live and not die’ (v. 2). The reason for Benjamin being kept there had to haunt them already—‘for he feared that harm might happen to him’ (v. 4). Evidently, it wasn’t as serious if something happened to them, though they all had their own families to care for. Commentators note the other motive counterbalancing potential offense at Jacob’s orders, namely, the familial bond in a patriarchal society. Take Henry, for instance, “Though Jacob’s sons were all married, and had families of their own, yet, it should seem, they were still incorporated in one society, under the conduct and presidency of their father Jacob.”2

Guilt is often first awakened through danger. That’s what I mean by destitution here. When our conscience is seared, we can forget just about any sin. But guilt is like the ghost of the conscience. When it was alive and you ignored it, it eventually stopped talking to you; but now, in a later destitution, it rises to haunt—as the Scripture says, “be sure your sin will find you out” (Num. 32:23).

Sin is personified here, but the meaning is that its guilt will be paid. And bodily danger [starvation] is a kinder payment than the ultimate payment. It’s a warning by comparison.

Several commentators suggest that through the business with the Midianite traders, the brothers understood that Egypt would be Joseph’s destination. Boice imagines in his commentary the looks the brothers may have given to each other through the years whenever Joseph’s name was mentioned, or even at the mention of the place: Egypt. Now, the voice of their father rouses them as if from a dream: Egypt. Egypt, Egypt—‘Why do you look at one another?’ … ‘Behold, I have heard that there is grain for sale in Egypt. Go’ (vv. 1-2). Guilt awakens the sinner to where he’s going.

Guilt weighs through mistreatment.

Notice the first phase of the fulfillment of prophecy: ‘And Joseph’s brothers came and bowed themselves before him with their faces to the ground’ (v. 6). It was just as in the dreams. But that point for us to catch is that in order to bring us to our senses, God places us under people, far under people, all the way to the ground under people.

Imagine being in Joseph’s shoes. It is the very first moment you saw them, and unexpected. Most of us would like to think we would not abuse such power, but this is in the heat of the moment: ‘Joseph saw his brothers and recognized them, but he treated them like strangers and spoke roughly to them’ (v. 7).

At this point the mistreatment comes in the form of an accusation, though it would get worse: ‘he said to them, ‘You are spies; you have come to see the nakedness of the land’ (v. 9); and he doubles down with the accusation in verse 12. Joseph wasn’t just standing in the authority of Pharaoh. As far as the brothers were concerned, he was playing that biblical typological role that Pharaoh played, namely, of the accuser. Now, why would God place us under an accuser? Surely God does not will that any of His own lie under the condemnation of the devil! No—not as an end in itself. But the truth is that we are not going to believe the gospel like Paul ends Romans 8, taking his stand in the courtroom, and shouting back to the devil: “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies” (Rom. 8:33). That defiant gospel only comes from a desperate conscience that has been under the mistreating rod of accusation.

Guilt weighs through dilemmas.

There is the question of whether we finally find a definitive crack in the armor of Joseph’s character. Henry suggests that while this wasn’t technically an oath that Joseph called down on himself, there was still an issue here (vv. 15-16):

‘By this you shall be tested: by the life of Pharaoh, you shall not go from this place unless your youngest brother comes here. Send one of you, and let him bring your brother, while you remain confined, that your words may be tested, whether there is truth in you. Or else, by the life of Pharaoh, surely you are spies’ (vv. 15-16).

So, whether an oath or just a vehement expression, such as, “As my soul lives,” Henry concludes, “it was more than yea, yea, and nay, nay, and therefore came of evil.”3 Even so, the test was administered ultimately by God, Joseph being a mere proctor in the hands of providence. To show the purpose of this test, I will turn to Calvin’s commentary for what was good about the dilemma:

For if he was actuated by a sense of the injury received from them, he cannot be acquitted of the desire of revenge. It is, however, probable, that he was impelled neither by anger nor a thirst of vengeance, but that he was induced by two just causes to act as he did. For he both desired to regain his brother Benjamin, and wished to ascertain,—as if by putting them to the torture,—what was in their mind, whether they repented or not.4

Now those are two good things—to see your younger brother again and to see if the others were sorry. After all, we want others to have good hearts.

If this is no sin, then we might consider the view of Pink, who sees yet another type of Christ, especially in verse 8: ‘And Joseph recognized his brothers, but they did not recognize him.’  So when John’s Gospel says, “the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him” (Jn. 1:10-11). In this way, Israel had already become like the world, a stranger to their God, oblivious to their Messiah. When guilt first weighs us down, we don’t recognize our Savior, but He always sees us.

This then begs the question: Does Jesus test us? We would not say that He treats us harshly, as Joseph is said to treat them harshly; but it does seem like it to us, from our finite and sinful perspectives. When the Gospel says, “A bruised reed he would not break” (Mat. 12), this is speaking of His ordinary care for His disciples. And thank God for that! However, when He brings us to repentance, there is a sifting, an unpleasant cutting off of every path—which, remember, we pray for on behalf of others, don’t we? We pray, “Whatever it takes, God!” And the God who hems us in does just that!

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (Heb. 12:11).

So to bring conviction, guilt is made weight us down into a vision of the house of bondage, by destitution, by mistreatment, by dilemmas that hem us in .. and then finally:

Guilt weighs through shame.

It was a great shame that the brothers had to come crawling to Joseph even on a worldly front. As we spoke last week of Joseph as God’s man in the temporal office, as valuable in the public arena, so Matthew Henry observes that,

if his brothers had not sold him into Egypt, but respected him according to his merits, who knows but he might have done the same thing for Jacob’s family which now he had done for Pharaoh, and the Egyptians might then have come to them to buy corn? But those who drive away from among them good and wise men know not what they do.5

So the church in small-minded times often exiles a John Calvin, rejects the mission of a William Carey, deposes a Jonathan Edwards, and even burns a Hugh Latimer and strangles a William Tyndale. These things are shameful on the open stage of history, but shame doesn’t sting less for having been kept secret. In fact, it is just in the open air that guilt can be confronted, and in dark places that shame can be suppressed and guilt grow. These brothers needed an exposure of light. These brothers were chased out of secret by an event that affected the whole world.

Then they said to one another, “In truth we are guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the distress of his soul, when he begged us and we did not listen. That is why this distress has come upon us.” And Reuben answered them, “Did I not tell you not to sin against the boy? But you did not listen. So now there comes a reckoning for his blood” (vv. 21-22).

The brothers were awake. There may have been some initial finger pointing, but the fear of the Lord was coursing through that waiting room in Egypt. But the test increases its difficulty level.

“My money has been put back; here it is in the mouth of my sack!” At this their hearts failed them, and they turned trembling to one another, saying, “What is this that God has done to us?” (v. 28).

They may have viewed God as the hunter here, and themselves as the prey, but their prior confession makes it clear that these words are not a blaming of God, but a dread of Him.

Why shame? Is that not redundant? Guilt and shame are practically the same, aren’t they? Not quite. Guilt is the objective accumulation of punishment due. Shame is the sense of self-loathing for it. Time doesn’t make shame go away anymore than time heals all hurts: “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me” (Ps. 51:3).

If time alone washed away their shame, then why did this trial bring back ONLY THE EARLIER SIN? They didn’t know this was Joseph yet: so why was that past sin the obvious answer? The answer is because it was the obvious truth!

And what did the sons find in their bags once they had left Simeon? Money, whether silver or otherwise. What did these sons possess in their hands once they had left Joseph years before? The same. It is as if a magic mirror made of silver replayed to them their own treachery.

Modern psychology has tried to recast guilt as a social construct, as personal angst, or as a “guilt-trip” someone else is putting on us. But shame weighs far more than these cheap attempts at relief can lift. Apart from the work of Christ, we feel guilty because we are guilty. The author of Hebrews speaks to the need: “our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience” (Heb. 10:22).

Practical Use of the Doctrine

Use 1. Correction. Joseph’s actions here are a model between two ditches. Let us call these extremes “gullible grace” and “vengeful vigilance.” We avoid these by understanding two principles that the whole picture of Joseph, from this chapter to the next, begins to clarify. First, Christian forgiveness does not require erasing all boundaries. Joseph’s desire to reconcile with them awakened, and yet he administers the test precisely to see if it’s the real thing. “Trust, but verify.” Second, Christian discernment does not require becoming a fortress of bitterness. So, Joseph’s test is tough as nails, but he has to keep walking out of the room to weep. Paul paints a broad and deep picture of Christian love that encompasses both:

[Love] does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Cor. 13:6-7).

Use 2. Instruction. All human beings need an awakening of the conscience. All need a visitation from this ghost of guilt; and though God may use instruments, it is literally the Holy Spirit alone that can make it a reality. The value of knowing that God uses instruments like the four we looked at from this passage (destitution, mistreatment, dilemmas, and shame) is because we don’t want to be dense when these things come. We want to be on the lookout for God’s use of means to bring us to our knees.

“Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” (Rom. 2:4).

Calvin says here, “to consider by what hidden and unexpected methods God may perform whatever he has decreed. Though, therefore, the providence of God is in itself a labyrinth; yet when we connect the issue of things with their beginnings, that admirable method of operation shines clearly in our view, which is not generally acknowledged, only because it is far removed from our observation.”6 (Commentaries, I.2.337).

Use 3. Consolation. It is not only that the brothers are a type of the guilty sinner and that Joseph is a type of Christ. Joseph is also a type of ourselves, namely our essential selves, as God made us to be. And WHAT DID WE DO WITH HIM (or her)? We sold him for the cheap treasures of this world, cast him away; and, in due time, our old ghost of guilt was there waiting for us, though we didn’t recognize at first. Waiting for us, in that place of bondage. God drives us there first by some evil. So, what should we do with our guilt? For those who are called, the One who will meet us there is no longer some ghost of guilt, but One who stood in its place and takes that guilt and pays for it Himself.

“so that those who are called may receive the promised eternal inheritance, since a death has occurred that redeems them from the transgressions committed under the first covenant” (Heb. 9:15).

For us who sold Him out for sin, He will open up our eyes, so that we recognize Him, and lift the burden from our backs forever.

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1. For Pink there was a “dispensational” typology here: “Just as a few years after his brethren had rejected Joseph, they were forced by a famine (sent from God) to leave their land and go down to Egypt, so a few years after the Jews had rejected Christ and delivered them up to the Gentiles, God’s judgment descended upon them, and the Romans drove them from their land, and dispersed them throughout the world” (Gleanings in Genesis, 391).

2. Henry, A Commentary on the Whole Bible, 83.

3. Henry, A Commentary on the Whole Bible, 83.

4. Calvin, Commentaries, I.2.338.

5. Henry, A Commentary on the Whole Bible, 83.

6. Calvin, Commentaries, I.2.337.