THE MEETING OF JACOB AND JOSEPH.
If we have witnessed one scene of affection when Joseph embraced his
brother Benjamin, we are now to behold another, when the patriarch
Jacob meets with his long lost son. We are often permitted, even in
this life, to see joy and gladness according to the days in which we
have seen grief; and an example of that is at hand.
After the interview between Joseph and his brethren, matters were soon
arranged for transferring them and all their retinue to Egypt,—another
important stage in the development of God’s plans with our world.
Pharaoh confirmed the request of his viceroy to that effect, so that
the patriarchs and their father with them were invited to settle in one
of the richest portions of Egypt. Among these migratory tribes of
herdsmen—who literally had no continuing city—such a removal was not so
remarkable as a similar thing would be in our country of more fixed
habits; and the whole house of Jacob was accordingly soon in motion
toward Egypt. “It is enough,” he exclaimed, when the invitation reached
him; “Joseph my son is yet alive: I will go and see him before I die;”
and the threescore and six souls, who composed his household, of course
followed in his train.
Now, had we been there to witness that migration, it would never have
occurred to us to think that the future history of the sons of men
would be largely affected by the movement; yet it was so. That was no
ordinary change of abode: God was in it of a truth; and, blind or dark
as man might be, God was there in the act of “calling things that are
not as though they were.”
As he journeyed toward Egypt, Jacob met with much to gladden him by the
way. In a vision of the night, he was encouraged from on high to go
fearlessly forward, for blessings great and manifold awaited him and
his descendants in the future. But our present topic leads us past the
different stages of the journey, to the meeting of the father and the
son. When Joseph learned that his parent was approaching, he hastened
forth to meet him, and, with the ardent affection, as well as the
profound respect, of the East, welcomed the aged man to Egypt. He did
not think it beneath his dignity, as vice-king of that country, to
offer lowly reverence to his father, shepherd or husbandman as he was,
and following a profession which made him “an abomination unto the
Egyptians.” Nay, when Joseph met his father in the land of Goshen, we
read that “he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good while”
(Gen. xlvi. 29); while the father exclaimed, “Now, let me die, since I
have seen thy face, because thou art still alive.”—It was an interview
and an hour which compensated, in a great measure, for the sorrows and
separation of years; it was one of the scenes by which God, in his holy
providence, foreshows how intense will be the joy when the great family
are all gathered home, from every country, and tribe, and tongue, to
their Father’s house on high. The exile returning to the home of his
fathers, or the soldier revisiting the scenes of his boyhood after many
a bloody field, may understand such emotions in some degree. They are
green spots in the desert of life—a Tadmor in the wilderness—a lily
among thorns.
Yet there, also, the feelings would be of a mixed nature, like all
things human. Scarcely any of the parties present—Jacob, Joseph, or his
brethren—could fail to glance in thought at the strange proceedings
which had separated them so long. There might be neither envy nor
hatred now—neither spite upon the one side, nor a desire of retaliation
on the other. The dealings of Providence had been too remarkable to
admit of such feelings; and we rather suppose that they were all
suppressed, as much as possible, amid the general joy. But be that as
it may, we see the patriarch happy for a season. His children, who were
really the hope of the world (strange as the remark may seem when
applied to such men), were now gathered around him; and as it then
appeared that he had little to do but to die, he might at length put a
different construction on his own words: “All these things are against
me.” He had providence now interpreted to him by its God, and saw with
his bodily eyes, as all the ransomed will yet see in glory, that “all
things work together for good to them that love God, and that are the
called according to his purpose.” Flesh and blood may fear and quake
under trial, but faith rises to a higher level, and walks with a firmer
step,—it can endure as seeing him who is invisible.