I tried, as I read these verses, to put myself in Jacobs’ shoes. His beloved Joseph had long since been buried in his mind. He thought he had been destroyed by savage beasts and torn into bits. Oh, how the heart of this old man must have ached when he thought again on the death of his beloved son. Alive, how could that be? And what of these witnesses? Is there one in the lot whose whole history has not branded him a liar? Thirteen years has passed: Thirteen years of lies and deceitful evidences and pretended affection. A lifetime of falsehoods could not be overcome with a single testimony.
As I read this story I began to see myself in Jacob. I had been lied to by those I thought to love me. I had been given a twisted report by those who claimed to know. The evidence, that they presented, seemed so clear that like Jacob I could fill in the details myself. Like those in II Corinthians 4: 3-4, the gospel was hid from me by the god of this world; who had blinded my mind. I believed that Christ came into the world and that he died on the cross. But, who he was, why he came, and what he accomplished was left a mystery. Like Jacob, as he considered the death of Joseph, he saw nothing accomplished by it: He saw no godly purpose or victory in it. He saw him only as a victim of circumstance. The news of his resurrection, exaltation, and reign in glory: The absolute superiority of his name in heaven and earth was just too good to be true.
But Joseph did not expect his father to believe this good news based on their testimony alone. He sent with his witnesses an earnest and evidence of what lay in store. Twenty asses loaded with everything his heart could desire. A train of beasts with everything he needed for him and all his seed to carry them back to the son of his love.
It is not on my testimony, alone, that I expect men to believe; but according to all the means which God has provided to accompany me. Based on their testimony alone, Jacobs’ heart fainted and he believed them not. But when they had told him all the words of Joseph and when he saw the wagons Joseph sent, to carry him back, Israel cried, “It is enough, my son is alive and I will go and see him.”
I close my eyes and see Jacob standing in wide eyed wonder staring at the great procession. As far as the eye could see were provisions of grace. Wagon after wagon, beast after beast, and evidence upon evidence that not only did his son live but ruled in the land where he lived. From one doubter to another, I pray that God will let you get a glimpse of the glory of his son. And seeing the wagons of his grace to cry, it is enough, let me go and see him before I die.
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