Genesis 37:1-36 - Providence in Chaos
Good evening, church. As you find your seats, let me just say hello to you for the first time in a long time. I have been out for the summer, and I hope you enjoyed an incredible summer teaching series from our wonderfully talented staff. A round of applause would be absolutely appropriate for them! We have amazing communicators around here. Because of their other responsibilities, you don’t always get to see them on stage, but you got to hear from Mike Ciavarelli, Chris Schultz, and a number of others from our crew this summer. We are thrilled that we walked through that Foundations series together.
Now fall is upon us. Summer is more or less over, even if the temperature outside isn’t quite telling us the same thing yet, and we are jumping right back into the book of Genesis. If you have your Bible with you, turn to Genesis 37. Tonight we pick up on the final of the four patriarchs we have been studying: Abraham, his son Isaac, his son Jacob, and finally, Joseph. His story is recorded for us from Genesis chapter 37 all the way through chapter 50. It is an absolutely amazing story and one of my favorites.
The Upper Story and the Lower Story
Before we dive into the text, I want to tell you a little bit about my summer. I had a pretty special summer. As many of you know, I have three daughters, and eleven days ago I had the great privilege of marrying off my oldest daughter. It was incredible. I had the privilege of wearing both hats—dad and pastor. I walked her down the aisle, and then Brad, our senior pastor and a great friend of mine, tag-teamed the ceremony with me. I got to be “Dad” for the first part, and then we handed it off and I got to officiate the vows. It was a deeply surreal experience.
Afterward, people asked me, “Hey Mike, how was it? How do you feel?” Now, feelings aren’t usually my thing. I generally operate with three feelings: hungry, tired, and hungry. But if I am honest with you, what I felt was conflicted. For those of you who have stood as a father next to your daughter and given her away, you know exactly what I am talking about.
For more than twenty years, my bride and I have been praying for this moment. We prayed for our daughter, for her future husband, and for her walk with Christ. We looked at her life from this high trajectory—a 30,000-foot view. As young parents, we said, “Lord, this is what we want for our child: this grand story where she loves Jesus, submits to Him, walks with Him, and avoids some of the landmines we stepped on.” God was so gracious to that prayer. It was beautiful. Michelle and I talked about it afterward, and we agreed we wouldn’t go back and change a single thing. We are thrilled by the grace of God in our daughter’s life.
Yet in that moment, I felt an emotion I don’t feel very often: deep sadness. At 5:00 AM this morning, we put her in a car. She got back from her honeymoon, packed up, and drove toward Texas. Her husband is in the army and stationed there for the next two years. It was gut-wrenching. My wife came in and ugly-cried this morning. Honestly, it has been tears on tap in the Sladen household for both of us.
It is this strange, conflicting reality. In the grand narrative—the upper story—God gave us everything we hoped and asked for. But in the lower story, right here in this specific chapter, what I feel is not exuberant joy. What I feel is sadness.
When you look at Scripture, there is a very similar dynamic at play. In the big-picture message of the Bible—the crimson thread that runs from Genesis to Revelation—God is pursuing and saving a broken people whom He desperately loves. That is the grand narrative: Creation, Fall, Redemption, Consummation. As The Jesus Storybook Bible puts it, every story whispers His name.
Yet underneath that overarching narrative, you find individual, lower stories that support the grand design—some clearly, and some through tremendous heartache. As we journey through the life of Joseph over the next four months, I want to encourage you to keep both stories in view: the grand redemptive narrative of what God is doing, and the gritty, messy individual chapters that make up the journey.
The Poison of Favoritism
Let’s begin reading in Genesis chapter 37, picking up right where we left off with Jacob.
Genesis 37:1-2 (NASB)
Now Jacob lived in the land where his father had sojourned, in the land of Canaan. These are [the records of] the generations of Jacob. Joseph, when seventeen years of age, was pasturing the flock with his brothers while he was [still] a youth, along with the sons of Bilhah and the sons of Zilpah, his father’s wives. And Joseph brought back a bad report about them to their father.
If you remember the story of Jacob, his household was a train wreck. He had thirteen children by four different women—twelve boys and one girl. Joseph was the firstborn son of Rachel, Jacob’s favorite wife. Rachel’s only other child was Benjamin, born back in chapter 35. Even though Joseph is the second-youngest boy, he is clearly the one placed in charge, and he brings back a bad report about his older brothers.
This dynamic creates instant hostility within the family.
Genesis 37:3 (NASB)
Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his sons, because he was the son of his old age; and he made him a varicolored tunic.
Jacob loved Joseph more than all his other sons because he was the son of his old age, born after years of Rachel being barren. Here, Jacob repeats the destructive pattern of his own childhood. Instead of breaking the cycle of favoritism he experienced with his parents and his brother Esau, Jacob doubles down and plays favorites in his own home.
To make matters worse, Jacob gives Joseph a special multicolored tunic to clearly distinguish him from the rest of his brothers. Scholars note that this was likely a long-sleeved, elegant robe—something you could never do hard manual labor in. Working garments back then were sleeveless so men could labor among the sheep. This tunic was essentially Jacob saying, “Joseph is posh. He is above you guys.” It created an immediate division between the indoor “lapdog” and the outdoor “yard dogs.”
Look at how the brothers respond.
Genesis 37:4 (NASB)
His brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers; and [so] they hated him and could not speak to him on friendly terms.
Joseph grew up in an environment marked by jealousy, anger, and parental favoritism, which quickly produced bitter hatred among his brothers. The phrase “could not speak to him on friendly terms” literally means they could not even extend a basic greeting to him. They refused to speak to him. Joseph brought bad reports, dad gave him the premier robe, and for seventeen years, the brothers sat there feeling neglected and resentful.
Two Dreams and a Deepening Rage
Into this volatile home, God speaks to Joseph through two dreams that carry the identical meaning.
Genesis 37:6-7 (NASB)
He said to them, ‘Please listen to this dream which I have had; for behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and lo, my sheaf rose up and also stood erect; and behold, your sheaves gathered around and bowed down to my sheaf.’
You don’t need an advanced degree in biblical interpretation to understand that dream. Joseph’s sheaf stands tall, and all his brothers’ sheaves bow down to it. You have to wonder what Joseph was thinking when he decided to share that over breakfast!
Then he has a second dream.
Genesis 37:9 (NASB)
Now he had still another dream, and related it to his brothers, and said, ‘Lo, I have had still another dream; and behold, the sun and the moon and eleven stars were bowing down to me.’
Now it is not just the eleven stars representing his brothers, but the sun and the moon—mom and dad—bowing down to him as well. Best-case scenario, this was youthful naivety. Worst-case scenario, he was being an arrogant brat flaunting his privileged status.
Look at the brothers’ reaction in verse 8.
Genesis 37:8 (NASB)
Then his brothers said to him, ‘Are you actually going to reign over us? Or are you really going to rule over us?’ So they hated him even more for his dreams and for his words.
The animosity in the household was boiling over like a shaken two-liter bottle of soda.
Jacob rebukes Joseph in verse 10, asking, “Shall I and your mother and your brothers actually come to bow ourselves down before you to the ground?” Yet notice what Jacob does next.
Genesis 37:11 (NASB)
His brothers were jealous of him, but his father kept the saying [in mind].
Jacob tucks this away on the back burner. In that era, God regularly communicated to the patriarchs through dreams—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had all experienced direct revelation. Jacob realizes that beneath his son’s lack of tact, God is up to something.
The Conspiracy at Dothan
Sometime later, the older brothers are out pasturing the flocks, and Jacob sends Joseph to check on them.
Genesis 37:13 (NASB)
Israel said to Joseph, ‘Are not your brothers pasturing [the flock] in Shechem? Come, and I will send you to them.’ And he said to him, ‘I will go.’
Sending the despised favorite son on a fifty-mile trek to manage and report on his angry brothers was not Jacob’s wisest decision. When Joseph arrives at Shechem—a city with an ominous history where his sister Dinah had been violated—the brothers are gone. A stranger happens to find Joseph wandering in the field and tells him, “They have moved on to Dothan.” Joseph tracks them down.
Genesis 37:18-20 (NASB)
When they saw him from a distance and before he came close to them, they plotted against him to put him to death. They said to one another, ’Here comes this dreamer! ’Now then, come and let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; and we will say, ‘A wild beast devoured him.’ Then let us see what will become of his dreams!’
Can you imagine how poisonous that home environment had become? Seventeen years of resentment had turned into murderous rage. This was way past normal sibling rivalry; they were ready to kill their own flesh and blood.
Reuben, the firstborn, steps in with an alternative plan.
Genesis 37:22 (NASB)
Reuben further said to them, ‘Shed no blood. Throw him into this pit that is in the wilderness, but do not lay hands on him’– that he might rescue him out of their hands, to restore him to his father.
Reuben had previously disgraced himself by sleeping with Bilhah, his father’s concubine, in a reckless power grab. His relationship with Jacob was deeply fractured. Reuben calculates that if he convinces the brothers to throw Joseph into a cistern instead of killing him, he can sneak back later, rescue Joseph, return him to Jacob, and get back into his father’s good graces.
Initially, the brothers agree to the pit.
Genesis 37:23-25 (NASB)
So it came about, when Joseph reached his brothers, that they stripped Joseph of his tunic, the varicolored tunic that was on him; and they took him and threw him into the pit. Now the pit was empty, without any water in it. Then they sat down to eat a meal. And as they raised their eyes and looked, behold, a caravan of Ishmaelites was coming from Gilead, with their camels bearing aromatic gum and balm and myrrh, on their way to bring [them] down to Egypt.
The very first thing they do is rip that despised tunic off his back. They throw him into an empty cistern used for collecting rainwater, leaving him trapped.
And look at what they do next: they sit down to eat a meal. Imagine the callousness required to sit on the edge of a pit, eating lunch, while your seventeen-year-old brother is screaming for mercy below. We know he was screaming because years later, in Genesis 42, the brothers confess their guilt.
Genesis 42:21 (NASB)
Then they said to one another, ‘Truly we are guilty concerning our brother, because we saw the distress of his soul when he pleaded with us, yet we would not listen; therefore this distress has come upon us.’
That word distress describes extreme agony, the kind used in Scripture for labor pains or mortal terror. This was hands down the worst day of Joseph’s young life. He was miles from home, his father could not hear him, and his brothers were sitting above him, completely indifferent to his cries.
Sold into Slavery
While they are eating, an opportunity presents itself.
Genesis 37:25-28 (NASB)
Then they sat down to eat a meal. And as they raised their eyes and looked, behold, a caravan of Ishmaelites was coming from Gilead, with their camels bearing aromatic gum and balm and myrrh, on their way to bring [them] down to Egypt. Judah said to his brothers, ’What profit is it for us to kill our brother and cover up his blood? ‘Come and let us sell him to the Ishmaelites and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our [own] flesh.’ And his brothers listened [to him]. Then some Midianite traders passed by, so they pulled [him] up and lifted Joseph out of the pit, and sold him to the Ishmaelites for twenty [shekels] of silver. Thus they brought Joseph into Egypt.
Judah suggests making a profit rather than leaving Joseph to die. Twenty shekels of silver was the standard price for a slave in the ancient Near East. Reuben’s rescue plan collapses because while he is away, the brothers pull Joseph from the cistern and sell him to a passing caravan heading south toward Egypt.
Then comes the cover-up.
Genesis 37:31-33 (NASB)
So they took Joseph’s tunic, and slaughtered a male goat and dipped the tunic in the blood; and they sent the varicolored tunic and brought it to their father and said, ‘We found this; please examine [it] to [see] whether it is your son’s tunic or not.’ Then he examined it and said, ‘It is my son’s tunic. A wild beast has devoured him; Joseph has surely been torn to pieces!’
They slaughter a goat, soak the ornate robe in blood, and bring it to their father: “We found this. Examine it to see if it is your son’s.” They don’t even have to tell the lie out loud; Jacob draws the conclusion himself.
Genesis 37:34-35 (NASB)
So Jacob tore his clothes, and put sackcloth on his loins and mourned for his son many days. Then all his sons and all his daughters arose to comfort him, but he refused to be comforted. And he said, ‘Surely I will go down to Sheol in mourning for my son.’ So his father wept for him.
Jacob is completely inconsolable. He says, “My life is over. I will go down to the grave mourning my son.” For the next twenty-two years, those ten brothers kept that dark secret, conspiring together never to speak Joseph’s name again while watching their father grieve every single day.
The chapter closes with a brief, almost easy-to-miss statement.
Genesis 37:36 (NASB)
Meanwhile, the Midianites sold him in Egypt to Potiphar, Pharaoh’s officer, the captain of the bodyguard.
The Invisible Conductor
When you finish reading Genesis 37, your immediate reaction is: what a horrific, dysfunctional mess. How does this dark, chaotic lower story connect to God’s grand redemptive plan? What does human trafficking, parental failure, and sibling hatred have to do with God rescuing a broken world?
The answer is: everything.
God’s hand of providence is woven throughout this entire narrative. God’s fingerprints are everywhere: in Jacob’s foolish decision to send Joseph, in the “random” stranger who directed Joseph to Dothan, and in the precise timing of the Ishmaelite caravan. If Joseph had been delayed by an hour, the traders would have already passed. If the caravan had been traveling north, Joseph would have ended up in Syria instead of Egypt. If Judah hadn’t proposed selling him, Joseph would have died in the pit. Unwittingly, the brothers’ evil schemes were used by God to move Joseph to the exact geographic location necessary for the future survival of their family.
God was not working here through visible, dramatic miracles; He was moving through the invisible hand of providence. God is like a master conductor of an orchestra. He does not play every instrument, but He directs the entire symphony. He does not author or delight in evil, but as Joseph later declares to his brothers, God takes what human beings intend for evil and bends it toward good.
Genesis 50:20 (NASB)
’As for you, you meant evil against me, [but] God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive.
Providence in Our Own Stories
As I studied this passage, I thought about how God orchestrates the unexpected turns in our own lives. When I was finishing high school and applying to college, I had two primary goals: play soccer or become a ski bum. Naturally, I kept the ski bum part from my parents, but I applied to nearly every school in Colorado near a ski resort—including the Colorado School of Mines, which I genuinely thought trained real-life mimes!
I got accepted to several of them, but I couldn’t afford the tuition. Out of twenty schools on my list, I ended up at the absolute bottom choice: the University of North Texas, forty-five minutes from my house. I didn’t know the Lord, and I did not want to be there.
I went to UNT and joined a fraternity that had already been kicked off campus once before. We were a complete mess. While in the fraternity, an older member invited me to a Bible study. Because I was a pledge, I felt obligated to say yes. A staff member from Campus Crusade for Christ shared the Gospel with me using a tract called the Four Spiritual Laws.
Until that night, I assumed I was a Christian simply because I attended church on Christmas and Easter. I tried to list all my good deeds to prove why God would want me in heaven. The leader looked at me and said, “Mike, the Bible says your best works are like filthy rags. Heaven is a gift of grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone.” I had never heard the Gospel presented that clearly. Over the next few months, God broke my heart over my sin, and in October of 1994, I surrendered my life to Jesus.
Inside that same fraternity, there was one pledge brother who stood out as a genuine follower of Christ named Shay Sumlant. Shay discipled me, and one day he said, “You should come to this Sunday morning Bible study led by a guy from California.” I complained that 10:00 AM on Sunday was way too early, but Shay kept persisting.
Finally, I showed up at 1910 Mohican Avenue. Up front was this six-foot-four guy who looked like a cross between a surfer and a linebacker, teaching God’s Word with power. Afterward, I walked up and introduced myself. He said, “Hey, I’m Brad. Nice to meet you.”
That man became one of my closest friends in life. He stood with me at my wedding, and just eleven days ago, we co-officiated my daughter’s wedding together. It was in that college ministry that I grew in faith, learned under godly men, and met my wife, Michelle.
At eighteen, I was frustrated that God closed the door on Colorado. I couldn’t see through the fog. But looking back now at forty-five, I see that God did not send me to UNT just for an education; He sent me there to save me, disciple me, give me lifelong brothers in Christ, and introduce me to my wife. God’s hand was orchestrating every single step.
Many of you have similar stories. Some of your chapters aren’t benign disappointments about college—they involve deep wounds, betrayal, and seasons of intense pain. Joseph knows that reality intimately.
When we are stuck in the lower story, it is easy to become myopic and ask, “Lord, how could anything good come from this?” God does not call evil good, and He does not celebrate the sins committed against you. But He is sovereign enough to take the broken pieces of our lives and weave them into His grand, redemptive plan.
Whatever season you find yourself in today—whether you are celebrating on the mountain or weeping beside a pit—step back. View your story in light of God’s overarching redemptive work. Trust that the God who guided Joseph into Egypt, and who brought ultimate redemption through the cross of Jesus Christ, is actively working behind the scenes in your life today.
Prayer
Father, we are grateful that You are a sovereign God. We thank You that even when painful and wicked things happen in this broken world, You remain good and loving. You do not delight in evil, yet You possess the power to redeem what was meant for harm and bring about eternal good.
Lord, we thank You that You are the God of second chances—a God who uses the good, the bad, and the ugly in our lives for Your ultimate purposes. Above all, we thank You for Jesus, the hero of the grand narrative of Scripture, who lived the perfect life we could not live and died the death our sins deserved so that we could be reconciled to You. Help us to trust Your invisible hand when we cannot see the way forward. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.