Joseph Part 4 – Preparations for the Future
Principal Characters
Ana (a-nah’) – wife of Pawara in The Fayum
General Djar (d’jar) – Head of Egyptian Army
Hakore-ankh (ha-ko’-ray”-aunque) – son of Neferti, high priest of Ptah, and brother of Meri-ptah; meaning Ra’s highest (first) son of life
Irsu (ur-soo’) – scribe in Potiphar’s service, elevated to the Royal Treasurer.
Khusebek (koo-se-beck’) – Head of procurement for grain storage
Menna (men-nah’) – governor (nomarch) of the sepat (nome or district) including Memphis
Merenre (meh’-ren-ray’’) – son of the shopkeeper Ti
Neferti (ne-fer’-tee) – High Priest of Ptah at Memphis, father of Meri-ptah
Neferu (ne-fer’-oo) – Head of construction projects for the king
Pawara (pa-wa’-ra) - worker in fields of Fayum (Gad)
Potiphera (po’-tee-fa-ra’) - Chief Priest to sun god, Ra, in city of On (Heliopolis), P-hotep-ra; meaning gift/offering of Ra; the priests of On were responsible for the calendar, the “keepers of time;” Asenath’s “father.”
Sebek-khu (se-beck’-koo) – head of transportation for grain storage
Senusret II (se-noirs-ret’ the Second – full name: Kha-khaeper-re, Soul of Ra Comes into Being) – King of Egypt c. 1897-1878 BC
Tem – Companion/servant of Asenath
Weret (we-ret’ - full name: Khnumetneferhedjetweret) – primary wife of King Senusret II
Zaphnath-Paaneah (sof-nath'-pah-nay'-ah) - Egyptian name given to Joseph by King Senusret II; meaning “the Revealer of Hidden Things”
4.1 Justice, Fairness, Mercy, and….
Justice or Mercy?
Joseph adjusted his eyes to the light and the strange surroundings. For three years he had woken in a locked cell. Now he was in a luxurious setting, one that came complete with a wife. His mind gradually adjusted to the new world in which he now dwelt.
The curtain on the doorway to their bedroom had never been closed and he could see that Asenath still slept. There was no need to wake her.
The curtain was drawn on Tem’s room. He was glad that she was there to keep Asenath company. He wondered how much Asenath might reveal to her confidante.
Joseph rose and went to the stairway leading to the roof, climbing up into the fresh morning air. From there he could see how high the sun already had risen and how little time to prepare to stand before the king.
Back in the apartment in a room off the great room, Joseph washed and shaved using the bowl prepared the day before. He put on the eye makeup required so that he would be as the Egyptians. He had resolved to forego this vanity in his private life, but for his public duty this was necessary.
He recalled that first day in prison when he washed the dark mixture from around his eyes, as if he were washing away his recent life. Now as he traced the brush around his eye, there was no vanity, only necessity.
Joseph completed his preparations for the day as he put on his new coat over a fresh tunic, took a small melon from among the fruits in their basket, and proceeded out into the common area of The Residence.
Joseph sat among the trees of the inner garden of The Residence. There were some people passing along the outer corridors, but by and large this was a peaceful setting, appropriate for planning what he should speak before the king.
Before he could begin to focus on this issue, thoughts of Asenath overtook his mind. Their relationship had begun yesterday after their wedding. Arranged marriages of strangers were not unusual, but true bonding could come only with time.
Bonding, becoming one….Joseph had observed that fire was necessary to separate the precious metal from the dross. Separate pieces of rock containing the metal were put in the fire and the dross skimmed from the surface. The molten metal was then placed in a mold, which shaped the metal into its final form. Fire and pressure definitely were playing their role in the bonding of these two lives.
Asenath was attractive to him. Her nature appeared to be the opposite of what he had come to see as the female demon archetype, Meera from the tent of the gods. Meera used her strength to destroy the very soul of a man.
Joseph could see the possibility that Asenath’s strength would be in the opposite direction, but first she must find and develop that strength. Yes, first she must recognize her identity. When she became whole, all else would follow.
For the moment, he shifted his focus to his appearance before the king in only a short time.
The king’s proclamation was even now on its way to all of the cities of the kingdom, and thus the information was made public. Such a proclamation would not engender the full cooperation needed to successfully combat the famine. Joseph knew that more than an edict was required to gain the necessary support.
The people obviously would be concerned for their future. Obedience was in their best interest. But would they resist because they disbelieved the dream, or viewed the tax as unfair, or both?
Thoughts of Teyma came to mind: “Where you best serve your master’s interest, there you will be best served, also.” This was one of those enduring truths, and it did not always have to concern “masters.” No, anyone who had the power to say “yes” or to say “no” to your objectives was included.
Essentially, he needed to trade with these powerful men: the truth of this future in exchange for their cooperation in preparing for the famine. Force must be avoided. Any conflict would harm people and lessen the available crops for storage. He must appeal to their best interests.
The greatest point in favor of the predicted famine’s occurrence was the seven good years of harvest. With the amount of crops each year rising beyond normal expectations, collection of the one-fifth would encounter less resistance than under poor or normal conditions. And each large harvest would affirm the prediction, as well as leaving a surplus for people to store against the future.
For Joseph, this was the key issue to be resolved, obtaining the willing cooperation of the people. And then it occurred to him that their cooperation was equally necessary for the second set of seven years. How was the fair distribution of food during a famine to be accomplished?
This question of fairness during the full fourteen years was such an important one that it must be addressed in the proper course of time with the king. The king was the ultimate arbiter, and his command would become the law to obey.
During the next several days, the plan for storing the harvest of the good years became more clearly defined as Joseph, Potiphar and the others crafted the larger plan.
Much of this planning involved the relatively simple mechanics of transport and storage in adequate facilities. Logic and reason were necessary and sufficient for specific actions to be planned along with the people and resources to ensure they happened. These issues were resolved gradually through the give and take of experience and expertise on the different topics.
As the subject shifted to the impact on the people of Egypt and how they would respond, moving beyond logic and reason was necessary. This is where the issues became more contentious.
Appearing before the king on the first morning after Joseph and Asenath were wed, the king said that Joseph’s report would be given in the presence of the rest of the group as deliberations began for the day. And this became the standard protocol, the meeting beginning with a report given to the king in the seat set aside for him. The king stayed only briefly each morning for the conclusions from the previous day, not becoming involved in the discussions.
By the fourth day of the king’s presence, the time for the question of distribution had come.
Joseph’s presentation summarized the locations, the construction of storage buildings, and transportation plans. There were still details of specific material needs, personnel placement, and such matters, but the overall plan was ready for implementation, moving from generalities to specifics.
Joseph summarized his plans for traveling throughout Egypt, visiting the major cities and holding sessions with the leading figures in those areas. This personal interaction was necessary to secure not only the cooperation of local leadership, but to make clear the fair distribution of food when the famine years arrived.
To hasten this communication, Joseph had approached Captain Potiphar on visiting sites in the delta while Joseph covered the regions of the Nile south of the delta. Not long thereafter, each would then cover the region of the other, ensuring two opportunities for sharing information from the highest level. This would allow them to assess the reaction to the initial presentation.
There would be a great many questions. High on everyone’s list would be the means of grain distribution in the years of famine.
Joseph deferred the question of how this fair distribution of food was to be accomplished to the king, in particular. The full group setting gave assurance that all would understand, that there would be no room for misinterpretation.
The king had rarely been vocal concerning the overall plan in his appearances before the group. He had asked questions for clarification, and made minor suggestions, but he had shown general agreement and did not focus on details.
Even as he asked the question, Joseph sensed the eagerness of the king to address the issue.
King Senusret II paused before answering, more for effect than hesitancy. He looked at each person sitting at the table, impressing upon them both the royal and personal nature of his response.
“You ask about the details of the fair distribution of the stored grain when the crisis of the famine arrives.
“My dreams have foretold of seven good years and of seven bad years, harvests full to overflowing followed by empty harvests. We publish this news throughout the land of Egypt, a sign of fairness.
“You in this room are planning the means to secure a buffer against the lean years, a means to store grain that none may perish when the famine comes. I, the king of Egypt, provide the funds for this at my own expense, a sign of fairness to the people.
“The people know of the famine to come. They have the opportunity to prepare a buffer for themselves, to store grain that they might have food when the lean years come.
“Here you see the fairness of planning for the future. Each may secure his future on his own, or he may resort to using the resources of the king to provide for his future.
“Let this be clear through all the land: the king’s storage of grain will be available to all who require food for the price of the grain. Let him who has grain eat his own. Let him who requires grain buy from the king.
“This is the fairness that I offer.”
There was only the briefest of silences. Neferu stood and bowed to the king.
“The gods will commend the king as wise in his decision. We are all are familiar with The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant. At such times as this, we must listen for the voice of one such as him.
“As the peasants says, the king is to be the source of justice and mercy, for so the gods ordain the role of the one who rules over others. The king is to be as a father to the orphan, husband to the widow, a covering for the destitute, a voice of calm in the storm of life. I do not lecture you on what you should do, for we know you to be such a ruler.
“Let us remember this guidance from the gods. Joseph’s own God has shown mercy in the king’s dream and its interpretation.
“As you say, beloved king, we must encourage all to store grain for the famine, so that the king will be the resource for those without the power to create their own stores for the famine. From your abundance and by your mercy, no Egyptian will die of hunger.”
As a man who had been master over the poorest of workers, Neferu surely spoke as the eloquent peasant had spoken in the story from long ago. No one in the room could miss how a slight shift in the king’s wording had shifted the gods’ requirement for justice and mercy slightly more toward mercy.
The contrast in the statements from the king and Neferu may have seemed slight, but the king’s countenance reasserted his position before his words were spoken. And, indeed, the king had something to say.
“As you know, Neferu, justice and mercy are a fine balancing act.”
Challenging royalty has always been a dangerous act, even when spoken in the cloak of respect and tradition. The king’s piercing gaze shifted neither to the left nor to the right as he continued. Neferu clearly felt the intensity of the words spoken directly to him, hitting the chair behind him with his heel as he tried to step backward.
“The gods require that each Egyptian do what he is able to do so that he provides food for the table of his family. This is justice.
“The gods require that those in power show mercy to those over whom they have power, to provide food for the table of those who are unable to do so. This is mercy.
“You and I speak the same words, but their order and emphasis can be misunderstood.”
The king paused, turning his eyes so that he engaged with each man sitting at the table in turn.
“Let it be understood that mercy is the last resort, not the first. Mercy misused disrupts justice. When mercy rewards inaction, justice fails.”
The king’s tone changed as he emphasized his final words on the subject. “Be certain that the people understand these concepts correctly.”
Silence reigned for only a moment before the general gave a shout of approval. Joseph knew that this was not the time or place to challenge the king’s views. From the less than enthusiastic response of the members other than the general, everyone could see that the council’s support was half-hearted.
Neferu yielded without further comment. His comment had forced the king to clarify his pronouncement. There could be no misunderstanding. The final words gave shape to his commanding order.
And Joseph could not argue with the fairness of the plan at this point, either. In this time of fullness, when none yet lacked food and no one faced death, declarations were only words. The king’s order remained on the justice side of the balance with mercy.
Joseph had learned the nature of men, and he knew that the time of famine would be a test for all men, and few would plan sufficiently.
Even so, justice and mercy both required that the people know of what was to come and be encouraged to make preparations. Providing a convincing argument to everyone was the necessary first step.
The king added, “You have another issue to address. I have heard no plans for the sale of grain to foreigners. Undoubtedly, the famine will go beyond the borders of Egypt. People will hear of our stores of grain and want to buy. And if we do not make grain available, they may resort to violence.
“Let me hear how we are to address this issue,” and looking directly at Neferu, “in a sense of fairness.”
The king then focused on Joseph. Whether because of Joseph’s leadership position or the sense that Joseph leaned toward mercy rather than justice, Joseph could not say.
The king rose when he saw that there were no further questions.
“I will leave you to your deliberations, gentlemen.”
Once the king had left the room, excited conversations began immediately on the two issues just raised. Joseph quickly took control of the meeting.
“Captain Potiphar has been involved with the sale of grain to foreigners in the past. He and I will address this issue later.
“At this moment, each of us has the tasks we have discussed for your own area. Every task is related to others, and for this afternoon, you will coordinate what must be done jointly. Let’s finish planning today. Tomorrow we begin working.”
The remainder of this day was devoted to finalization of the overall plans for the years of plenty. When they left for the day, each had the specifics of their area to develop, and then to coordinate with the others as outlined in the overarching plan.
With each of the group except Joseph and Potiphar tasked with specific actions, Joseph and Potiphar could begin plans for travel. Before going in different directions, they must address the issue of foreign sales. But that was for another day.
Joseph was alone when he came into the king’s presence the following morning. Each of the others had begun their individual tasks, as the king knew.
The king accepted Joseph’s statement assuring him that the others had begun their plans. Joseph stated that he and Captain Potiphar would begin their travels within two days, jointly going to Memphis, then separating and covering their respective areas.
“I am pleased, Joseph, with the progress to this point. The mission of you two is perhaps the most important. Your presence will do much to enhance the edict sent to the governors in each district.
“You will find yourself at a disadvantage traveling with Potiphar since he has a chariot. I am rectifying that by presenting you with your own horse and chariot.”
The king rose and put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, guiding him toward the door.
“Come see your chariot.”
They proceeded out the front door of The Residence. A shiny new chariot hitched to a fine looking horse stood waiting for Joseph’s command.
The chariot was similar to the king’s own. Like Potiphar’s chariot, the primary differences were the absence of the king’s emblem, and an appearance that was slightly more functional and less ornate.
Joseph was well aware that his arrival anywhere in Egypt in a chariot was a powerful symbol of the king’s backing. Considering the task of conveying the importance of his message, this symbolism was a powerful boost.
The finalization of plans for handling the famine completed only one half of Joseph’s preparations for the future.
Beyond Introductions
There was no way to plan for a future with Asenath until they each came to know each other in the present.
Their marriage pronouncement by the king had been the introduction of Joseph and Asenath to each other. The following events, particularly Asenath learning that she was an eastern foreigner rather than daughter of an Egyptian high priest, had not allowed the normal interactions for learning about one another. She was in the process of creating a new identity based on her true origin, and learning of her husband’s identity must be secondary.
Joseph remembered his similar struggle. When the path leading from the past suddenly is blocked and a new beginning is required, a new foundation is the first building block.
On the night following his marriage to Asenath, the evening of his second day planning for the famine, Joseph returned to his – their – apartment in The Residence.
Asenath and Tem were not present. The hour was somewhat late, well after sunset. Joseph had not eaten since midday meal during the day’s sessions, so he took some fresh fruit (from what appeared to be a bottomless bowl, always full) and went onto the roof to eat.
By then, the northern breeze had blown away much of the heat of the day and brought out the cool stars in place of the sun. The roof area was as large as the building, of course, so a number of people also took advantage of the relaxing atmosphere. The planted areas created something akin to rooms, giving some sense of privacy.
Joseph realized that he was looking at the same stars as he had as a child in Canaan. A sense of the oneness of this world flowed from that single observation, spreading to the oneness of the plants and animals and people. Yes, there were differences, but those things that were different allowed them to adapt to their different environments and to maintain the best life possible.
This moment on the roof was one of those when God seemed as close as the end of his fingertips, and the solutions to all problems were not only possible, but assured. Time and distance disappeared, all compressed into the present place and moment.
Perhaps he dozed, but he saw that the moon had now risen, chasing the stars and over taking them with his brightness. Asenath stood over him.
“I saw your coat thrown across the chair and thought you might have come here.”
“Watching the stars always has been a calming pastime. Their peaceful order gives assurance that all is well and moving on schedule.”
He smiled and added, “And they are telling us that it is time to go back downstairs.”
He rose and took her arm, and they returned to the great room.
Asenath took the seat she had occupied the previous night, their first night in a new world. Joseph smiled to himself that already there was a sense of what was hers in their new living space. He assumed that Tem had already retired, sensible to the need for the two newlyweds to have time to themselves.
“Was your day here at The Residence a good one, or did you go to the outer gardens, perhaps?”
After a pause, she said, “I do not know if it was a good day. I don’t even know what ‘good’ means anymore since what is good for me appears also to be hurtful.”
Showing exasperation with the way she had expressed herself, she closed herself to him, folding her arms across her breasts. After a moment, she struggled with how to continue.
“No, that is not it. Well, part of it…maybe. What I mean is that now that I am not who I was, who am I?”
She had dropped her arms, now partly outstretched, palms open toward Joseph, ready to receive.
The conversation had progressed no farther than the night before. And Joseph reminded himself that his own adjustment to a new identity had taken much longer than a day.
“A week ago, your past was secure and your future was assured. What has changed since then?”
Asenath looked at him with great surprise, raising a hand to shake a finger at him. “As if you did not know! I find that I was born to easterners, not to the people that I thought were my parents. And then I am not married to the son of the priest of Amun in Thebes, as promised, but to an eastern slave who owns nothing but somehow has risen to be one of the greatest men in Egypt!
“What has changed, indeed!” She made her exasperation with the question quite plain.
“But you are still Asenath, the same woman of a week ago. Did you choose your parents or decide where you were to be born?”
“Of course not!” she replied haughtily.
“If your parents and birthplace were not your decisions but were decided for you, how is it that you are to blame for them?”
“You know that people think differently of easterners. And women are treated differently there, almost like slaves, I hear. So will this be what people think of me? Will this be how you treat me?”
Joseph recognized fear in her voice, and it was even greater than the fear of how others would think of her. He longed to reason with her, but knew its limitations.
“What is it that people value in another person, Asenath? Is it not their kindness and trust, their love and character? In our brief time, I have seen your character and these other traits that we all value. They have not deserted you, nor will those who know you leave you friendless.”
He could see that she was listening, trying to reconcile these words with her own words spoken against slaves from the east only the day before. Perhaps she was wrestling with defending her prejudice and thus condemning herself, or else casting aside her prejudice and thus freeing herself. Ingrained beliefs, especially those operating below the level of conscious awareness, are woven so deeply into the fabric of our worldview that we cling to them as if a matter of life and death.
Asenath looked at Joseph, no single emotion dominant, but a conflicting mix leaving her speechless. At least fear no longer dominated as she sorted through truths and lies in an attempt to discern the reality of her existence.
To move forward required that he move forward. Joseph stepped closer.
“You are both the Asenath that you have become, and the Asenath you are becoming. Your identity, your character, is your choice. Your character is how you choose to respond to circumstances, not the events themselves over which you exert no control.”
Even in the soft light he could see her tenseness lessening, the taut muscles in her neck and face relaxing. She seemed to be returning to her present place rather than teetering on the edge of an uncertain future.
Joseph stepped close enough to hold her hands between them. He raised them to his lips, kissing each one in turn.
Her eyes remained downcast, looking down but not seeing. Joseph stooped down, lowering his head until his eyes met hers. He balanced precariously, bending his knees and looking up awkwardly, forcing her to focus on him.
“I do not think that I can remain in this position very long,” he said in a strained voice. Her eyes finally met his. She then saw his smile and raised her eyes, allowing him to rise with them.
“How can I help you to see your value in who you are at this very moment?”
She struggled with her response, finally saying, “Don’t tell me so casually of how we do not have to live together as husband and wife, and that we can divorce in two years. If I am at all lovable to you, love me and be to me as a husband to a wife.”
Joseph felt the possibility of a mutual bond, the seed germinating and a tender leaf emerging. Believing this fragile stem capable of developing into full bloom, he responded, “Asenath, I take you as my wife. Will you have me for your husband?”
She smiled, almost a laugh. “Yes, I take you, Joseph, as my husband.”
“Then let us be as man and wife.”
Asenath threw her arms around him, drawing him as close to her as she could. She stood on tip toes, the strength of her grip increasing as she pressed her lips against his.
She did not want to hear another truth at this moment.
Fairness
Joseph found he could not argue against King Senusret’s plan for distribution of the grain, but he knew there was a key element missing.
Yes, the king would make the investment in the storage facilities and in transporting the grain. He would make the storehouses secure, and food would be available to the people when the years of famine came.
Joseph recognized the wisdom in the king’s plan. Even with foreknowledge of the famine to come, the people could not be counted upon to store sufficient grain in the good years. And what of those people that did not work the land – the military and the craftsmen and the day laborers – where would they get food?
Under the king’s plan, those who did not have their own food storage would find the cost of food very high. They would have to sell everything they owned over the course of the famine, perhaps even themselves. The result would be an impoverished and enslaved nation owned by the king.
The antidote for the famine was to plan for the lack of food as the king demonstrated by his own actions.
The antidote for the financial burden produced by the king’s solution to the famine was foreknowledge and action on the part of the people.
Knowledge is never enough. Action based on that knowledge is required. Would it be possible to motivate the people to action, to save sufficient grain for the future?
The people who could store grain would find themselves able to endure the famine. Those who did not act would be reduced to poverty, perhaps even enslavement.
Joseph thought of his shepherd life from so long ago, how knowledge of nature and trust in God had all seemed interwoven into the fabric of life. Knowledge and trust led to informed action – could this concept win the day for the people?
Joseph found that he had only questions. How would his own family in Canaan prepare if they knew the famine was inevitable in seven years? The farmer could store grain, but the nomad had nothing equivalent to store. Flocks would die if there was no rain, no grass.
And the nomad carried all possessions from place to place. Carrying several years’ supply of food was hardly realistic even if it were available.
The king’s plan essentially required every person to become self-sufficient or become enslaved. This was the failing in the plan.
Joseph could see the world increasingly was interconnected, interdependent. Interdependence allowed people to focus on what they did best, and everyone was better for it. Few individuals were in a position to be good at everything, able always to be self-sufficient.
The alternative to a self-sufficient existence in a famine was to be at the mercy of the king. And that was the issue: the key element missing from the king’s plan was mercy.
Perhaps mercy was the warning itself, and the response of each individual was acceptance or rejection of that mercy, evidenced by the plans they made in preparation.
The greater the number of families who prepared for the famine sufficiently, the less drastic would be the economic effects. The more food available in the famine, the less would be the rise in food prices for those who were unable to store food.
Even the non-farmers could prepare. Those who did not grow their own food could buy at the cheaper prices of the plentiful years rather than at the higher prices of the years of famine. They could save the amount not spent on food in these good years. Even the nomad, almost non-existent in Egypt, could do this, although again the issue of storage required the assistance of someone settled who could act as guardian.
But planning for the future, adjusting a lifetime of thinking to a new reality, was not the nature of men. Change was difficult, even with foreknowledge. Information was not enough. There must be a change in the will, a change in the form of action.
Joseph saw his role coming into focus more clearly: his task was to encourage as many as possible to prepare fully for the coming famine. This had been God’s purpose in placing him in this position, not to enrich the king, but to save the people.
This thought of God’s purpose for Joseph brought to mind his marriage to a woman from a nation that worshipped idols. Even her name, Asenath, was understood by the Egyptians as a reference to the goddess Neith, associated with the creation of the earth. Neith also was the goddess of several other things, from war to weaving. What irony that Asenath’s real father had been killed by Simeon and Levi for being what Asenath was raised to be in Egypt, a worshipper of idols!
Joseph had stood before her, the second most powerful man in Egypt, telling her of his experiences as a slave. His was the story of a prince of the nomads falling twice into slavery, and each time rising higher, finally giving warning to a whole nation of approaching famine. Behind this story was the guiding hand of a supreme being. She could see that Joseph’s God was not a piecemeal god, one of many, small and with limited powers wielded with human emotion.
Now he could not help but see the story of Asenath’s life, culminating in this marriage, as any less divinely directed than his own. And Asenath, after learning the true story of her birth and transport to Egypt by Teyma, also could see the workings of a God who ruled all. Some coincidences are too extraordinary. Her mindset was changing on this and many things.
A conversion to a new way of thinking about the world is rarely because of a good argument. Experience more firmly establishes a lasting change to a new way of seeing, a new way of thinking, a new way of being in an old world.
Asenath’s own story, the new story of the new Asenath, was still in its infancy. And her story was now an integral part of Joseph’s story. She even was a model for change, not in information and outward appearance, but in mind and substance.
No, she was not directly a part of the story of the king’s dream of the coming famine, but she was a model for the change that must occur. They had each arrived at this point from their separate realms. He could not complete her journey for her any more than she could complete his for him. But they could mature in understanding and enjoy the moments when the two circles overlapped.
The differences of the king’s two dreams that were as one dream came to mind. So two lives, each sufficient in its singleness, might take on more significance when joined together as one.
Neferu’s comments on the Tale of the Eloquent Peasant also came to mind. The king as husband, father, and brother to his people perhaps was not very different from the role of husband to wife, fulfilling the roles of family left behind. And so the wife also, being as mother and sister to the husband, being that feminine half given up at creation when God divided the first man.
And this spoke of the unity of all, first with God, and then with the others created by God. And thus, the king’s dreams, and Joseph’s interpretation of them, all for the purpose of serving – and saving – others.
The importance of preparation was now paramount. This preparation required not only the king’s reserves for the years of famine, but for the people to prepare their own reserves.
With the focus of his mission now clearer, Joseph felt called to begin as soon as possible. The goal was not just to warn of the coming famine and why the king required one-fifth of their larger harvest. This was only a part of the message.
The larger message was that no one had more interest in their well-being in the future than themselves. The king would prepare a buffer against famine, but the people must prepare for their own futures, as well. Essentially, they must reserve a portion of their own crops to avoid losing all of their possessions, even their freedom.
Spurred to action by these considerations, Joseph would have to speak with Potiphar. With the captain’s additional input, the two of them would prepare a plan.
Another Perspective
On the evening that the king had given the chariot to Joseph, he returned to the apartment and found Asenath alone.
After greetings and a kiss on Asenath’s cheek, Joseph asked where Tem was.
Asenath replied, “You will be traveling a lot from what I understand. Tem and I will need to make friends among the people here at The Residence. I have begun to know others during the daytime hours, but I thought she might go to the common area in the evening and see who is there.”
“Tem has been very good about giving us time in the evening. She is pleasant, and I enjoy her company. But I also enjoy the extra time when we are together to talk, to get to know more about you.”
“Yes, and we must take advantage of the time we have here at the present moment.” She smiled and returned the kiss on the cheek, merely a light peck.
Asenath stepped back, as if to set a new tone. “Tell me the events of your day.”
Motioning toward the cushioned chairs, Joseph said, “Perhaps we should sit down.”
He then recounted the exchanges with the king regarding justice, fairness, and mercy.
Asenath listened to Joseph as he recounted the king’s argument for how he would handle distribution of food during the famine. She did not interrupt, but let him tell the whole story.
Joseph ended the story with a question. “The king’s solution appears to be fair and just, and yet something is lacking. What is his plan missing?”
“You use the words ‘fairness’ and ‘justice’ often, and they seem to be the same thing. Or are they really different?
“I ask because you are concerned about the poorest of the people, the working poor, I have heard you call them. Is fairness for the working poor the same as justice for the working poor?”
Joseph spread his hands. “Is not fairness a part of justice, and justice a larger term that must include fairness? Or let me ask in another way.
“The rich landowner with laborers builds a grain storage shed and saves grain for seven years. The poor farmer who has no workers but himself hardly has enough food for his family even in a very good year, but no place to store anything for the years of famine.
“When the famine comes, the rich man feeds his family and workers from his grain stores, but the poor man must sell everything he owns to buy food so that he and his family can survive. Is this situation just? Is it fair?”
Asenath shook her head. “No, this is neither justice nor fairness. You are right that something is missing.”
After a pause, she said, “Justice and fairness will come only with forgiveness.”
With great surprise, Joseph asked, “What has forgiveness to do with this issue. Who must be forgiven and for what?”
“The king must forgive the people for being poor,” Asenath replied. She stood up and began pacing slowly, deep in thought. Looking at him and seeing his expression, she saw that he still did not understand.
“The king blames the poor for their poverty, their need.” She turned away again. “A week ago, I felt the same way.”
She turned back again so that she stood face to face with Joseph. “Not consciously, of course. But just as I blamed foreigners for not being Egyptian, I blamed the poor for being who they are.
“The king sees the poor and he believes they have brought poverty upon themselves. It is true that some may have shirked work or chosen not to plan for the future. But the great majority have come into this world from parents who are poor. How are they not to be poor?”
She smiled. “As you said to me, I had no control over who my parents were or where I was born. There is no blame in circumstances.”
Joseph began to nod and then laughed. “You have given me my answer with my own words.”
Joseph felt a sense of pride in his wife, this woman he knew only in part. She was changing before his eyes, and he was sure that change - both his and hers - would create a stronger bond.
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Principal Characters
Ana (a-nah’) – wife of Pawara in The Fayum
General Djar (d’jar) – Head of Egyptian Army
Hakore-ankh (ha-ko’-ray”-aunque) – son of Neferti, high priest of Ptah, and brother of Meri-ptah; meaning Ra’s highest (first) son of life
Irsu (ur-soo’) – scribe in Potiphar’s service, elevated to the Royal Treasurer.
Khusebek (koo-se-beck’) – Head of procurement for grain storage
Menna (men-nah’) – governor (nomarch) of the sepat (nome or district) including Memphis
Merenre (meh’-ren-ray’’) – son of the shopkeeper Ti
Neferti (ne-fer’-tee) – High Priest of Ptah at Memphis, father of Meri-ptah
Neferu (ne-fer’-oo) – Head of construction projects for the king
Pawara (pa-wa’-ra) - worker in fields of Fayum (Gad)
Potiphera (po’-tee-fa-ra’) - Chief Priest to sun god, Ra, in city of On (Heliopolis), P-hotep-ra; meaning gift/offering of Ra; the priests of On were responsible for the calendar, the “keepers of time;” Asenath’s “father.”
Sebek-khu (se-beck’-koo) – head of transportation for grain storage
Senusret II (se-noirs-ret’ the Second – full name: Kha-khaeper-re, Soul of Ra Comes into Being) – King of Egypt c. 1897-1878 BC
Tem – Companion/servant of Asenath
Weret (we-ret’ - full name: Khnumetneferhedjetweret) – primary wife of King Senusret II
Zaphnath-Paaneah (sof-nath'-pah-nay'-ah) - Egyptian name given to Joseph by King Senusret II; meaning “the Revealer of Hidden Things”
4.1 Justice, Fairness, Mercy, and….
Justice or Mercy?
Joseph adjusted his eyes to the light and the strange surroundings. For three years he had woken in a locked cell. Now he was in a luxurious setting, one that came complete with a wife. His mind gradually adjusted to the new world in which he now dwelt.
The curtain on the doorway to their bedroom had never been closed and he could see that Asenath still slept. There was no need to wake her.
The curtain was drawn on Tem’s room. He was glad that she was there to keep Asenath company. He wondered how much Asenath might reveal to her confidante.
Joseph rose and went to the stairway leading to the roof, climbing up into the fresh morning air. From there he could see how high the sun already had risen and how little time to prepare to stand before the king.
Back in the apartment in a room off the great room, Joseph washed and shaved using the bowl prepared the day before. He put on the eye makeup required so that he would be as the Egyptians. He had resolved to forego this vanity in his private life, but for his public duty this was necessary.
He recalled that first day in prison when he washed the dark mixture from around his eyes, as if he were washing away his recent life. Now as he traced the brush around his eye, there was no vanity, only necessity.
Joseph completed his preparations for the day as he put on his new coat over a fresh tunic, took a small melon from among the fruits in their basket, and proceeded out into the common area of The Residence.
Joseph sat among the trees of the inner garden of The Residence. There were some people passing along the outer corridors, but by and large this was a peaceful setting, appropriate for planning what he should speak before the king.
Before he could begin to focus on this issue, thoughts of Asenath overtook his mind. Their relationship had begun yesterday after their wedding. Arranged marriages of strangers were not unusual, but true bonding could come only with time.
Bonding, becoming one….Joseph had observed that fire was necessary to separate the precious metal from the dross. Separate pieces of rock containing the metal were put in the fire and the dross skimmed from the surface. The molten metal was then placed in a mold, which shaped the metal into its final form. Fire and pressure definitely were playing their role in the bonding of these two lives.
Asenath was attractive to him. Her nature appeared to be the opposite of what he had come to see as the female demon archetype, Meera from the tent of the gods. Meera used her strength to destroy the very soul of a man.
Joseph could see the possibility that Asenath’s strength would be in the opposite direction, but first she must find and develop that strength. Yes, first she must recognize her identity. When she became whole, all else would follow.
For the moment, he shifted his focus to his appearance before the king in only a short time.
The king’s proclamation was even now on its way to all of the cities of the kingdom, and thus the information was made public. Such a proclamation would not engender the full cooperation needed to successfully combat the famine. Joseph knew that more than an edict was required to gain the necessary support.
The people obviously would be concerned for their future. Obedience was in their best interest. But would they resist because they disbelieved the dream, or viewed the tax as unfair, or both?
Thoughts of Teyma came to mind: “Where you best serve your master’s interest, there you will be best served, also.” This was one of those enduring truths, and it did not always have to concern “masters.” No, anyone who had the power to say “yes” or to say “no” to your objectives was included.
Essentially, he needed to trade with these powerful men: the truth of this future in exchange for their cooperation in preparing for the famine. Force must be avoided. Any conflict would harm people and lessen the available crops for storage. He must appeal to their best interests.
The greatest point in favor of the predicted famine’s occurrence was the seven good years of harvest. With the amount of crops each year rising beyond normal expectations, collection of the one-fifth would encounter less resistance than under poor or normal conditions. And each large harvest would affirm the prediction, as well as leaving a surplus for people to store against the future.
For Joseph, this was the key issue to be resolved, obtaining the willing cooperation of the people. And then it occurred to him that their cooperation was equally necessary for the second set of seven years. How was the fair distribution of food during a famine to be accomplished?
This question of fairness during the full fourteen years was such an important one that it must be addressed in the proper course of time with the king. The king was the ultimate arbiter, and his command would become the law to obey.
During the next several days, the plan for storing the harvest of the good years became more clearly defined as Joseph, Potiphar and the others crafted the larger plan.
Much of this planning involved the relatively simple mechanics of transport and storage in adequate facilities. Logic and reason were necessary and sufficient for specific actions to be planned along with the people and resources to ensure they happened. These issues were resolved gradually through the give and take of experience and expertise on the different topics.
As the subject shifted to the impact on the people of Egypt and how they would respond, moving beyond logic and reason was necessary. This is where the issues became more contentious.
Appearing before the king on the first morning after Joseph and Asenath were wed, the king said that Joseph’s report would be given in the presence of the rest of the group as deliberations began for the day. And this became the standard protocol, the meeting beginning with a report given to the king in the seat set aside for him. The king stayed only briefly each morning for the conclusions from the previous day, not becoming involved in the discussions.
By the fourth day of the king’s presence, the time for the question of distribution had come.
Joseph’s presentation summarized the locations, the construction of storage buildings, and transportation plans. There were still details of specific material needs, personnel placement, and such matters, but the overall plan was ready for implementation, moving from generalities to specifics.
Joseph summarized his plans for traveling throughout Egypt, visiting the major cities and holding sessions with the leading figures in those areas. This personal interaction was necessary to secure not only the cooperation of local leadership, but to make clear the fair distribution of food when the famine years arrived.
To hasten this communication, Joseph had approached Captain Potiphar on visiting sites in the delta while Joseph covered the regions of the Nile south of the delta. Not long thereafter, each would then cover the region of the other, ensuring two opportunities for sharing information from the highest level. This would allow them to assess the reaction to the initial presentation.
There would be a great many questions. High on everyone’s list would be the means of grain distribution in the years of famine.
Joseph deferred the question of how this fair distribution of food was to be accomplished to the king, in particular. The full group setting gave assurance that all would understand, that there would be no room for misinterpretation.
The king had rarely been vocal concerning the overall plan in his appearances before the group. He had asked questions for clarification, and made minor suggestions, but he had shown general agreement and did not focus on details.
Even as he asked the question, Joseph sensed the eagerness of the king to address the issue.
King Senusret II paused before answering, more for effect than hesitancy. He looked at each person sitting at the table, impressing upon them both the royal and personal nature of his response.
“You ask about the details of the fair distribution of the stored grain when the crisis of the famine arrives.
“My dreams have foretold of seven good years and of seven bad years, harvests full to overflowing followed by empty harvests. We publish this news throughout the land of Egypt, a sign of fairness.
“You in this room are planning the means to secure a buffer against the lean years, a means to store grain that none may perish when the famine comes. I, the king of Egypt, provide the funds for this at my own expense, a sign of fairness to the people.
“The people know of the famine to come. They have the opportunity to prepare a buffer for themselves, to store grain that they might have food when the lean years come.
“Here you see the fairness of planning for the future. Each may secure his future on his own, or he may resort to using the resources of the king to provide for his future.
“Let this be clear through all the land: the king’s storage of grain will be available to all who require food for the price of the grain. Let him who has grain eat his own. Let him who requires grain buy from the king.
“This is the fairness that I offer.”
There was only the briefest of silences. Neferu stood and bowed to the king.
“The gods will commend the king as wise in his decision. We are all are familiar with The Tale of the Eloquent Peasant. At such times as this, we must listen for the voice of one such as him.
“As the peasants says, the king is to be the source of justice and mercy, for so the gods ordain the role of the one who rules over others. The king is to be as a father to the orphan, husband to the widow, a covering for the destitute, a voice of calm in the storm of life. I do not lecture you on what you should do, for we know you to be such a ruler.
“Let us remember this guidance from the gods. Joseph’s own God has shown mercy in the king’s dream and its interpretation.
“As you say, beloved king, we must encourage all to store grain for the famine, so that the king will be the resource for those without the power to create their own stores for the famine. From your abundance and by your mercy, no Egyptian will die of hunger.”
As a man who had been master over the poorest of workers, Neferu surely spoke as the eloquent peasant had spoken in the story from long ago. No one in the room could miss how a slight shift in the king’s wording had shifted the gods’ requirement for justice and mercy slightly more toward mercy.
The contrast in the statements from the king and Neferu may have seemed slight, but the king’s countenance reasserted his position before his words were spoken. And, indeed, the king had something to say.
“As you know, Neferu, justice and mercy are a fine balancing act.”
Challenging royalty has always been a dangerous act, even when spoken in the cloak of respect and tradition. The king’s piercing gaze shifted neither to the left nor to the right as he continued. Neferu clearly felt the intensity of the words spoken directly to him, hitting the chair behind him with his heel as he tried to step backward.
“The gods require that each Egyptian do what he is able to do so that he provides food for the table of his family. This is justice.
“The gods require that those in power show mercy to those over whom they have power, to provide food for the table of those who are unable to do so. This is mercy.
“You and I speak the same words, but their order and emphasis can be misunderstood.”
The king paused, turning his eyes so that he engaged with each man sitting at the table in turn.
“Let it be understood that mercy is the last resort, not the first. Mercy misused disrupts justice. When mercy rewards inaction, justice fails.”
The king’s tone changed as he emphasized his final words on the subject. “Be certain that the people understand these concepts correctly.”
Silence reigned for only a moment before the general gave a shout of approval. Joseph knew that this was not the time or place to challenge the king’s views. From the less than enthusiastic response of the members other than the general, everyone could see that the council’s support was half-hearted.
Neferu yielded without further comment. His comment had forced the king to clarify his pronouncement. There could be no misunderstanding. The final words gave shape to his commanding order.
And Joseph could not argue with the fairness of the plan at this point, either. In this time of fullness, when none yet lacked food and no one faced death, declarations were only words. The king’s order remained on the justice side of the balance with mercy.
Joseph had learned the nature of men, and he knew that the time of famine would be a test for all men, and few would plan sufficiently.
Even so, justice and mercy both required that the people know of what was to come and be encouraged to make preparations. Providing a convincing argument to everyone was the necessary first step.
The king added, “You have another issue to address. I have heard no plans for the sale of grain to foreigners. Undoubtedly, the famine will go beyond the borders of Egypt. People will hear of our stores of grain and want to buy. And if we do not make grain available, they may resort to violence.
“Let me hear how we are to address this issue,” and looking directly at Neferu, “in a sense of fairness.”
The king then focused on Joseph. Whether because of Joseph’s leadership position or the sense that Joseph leaned toward mercy rather than justice, Joseph could not say.
The king rose when he saw that there were no further questions.
“I will leave you to your deliberations, gentlemen.”
Once the king had left the room, excited conversations began immediately on the two issues just raised. Joseph quickly took control of the meeting.
“Captain Potiphar has been involved with the sale of grain to foreigners in the past. He and I will address this issue later.
“At this moment, each of us has the tasks we have discussed for your own area. Every task is related to others, and for this afternoon, you will coordinate what must be done jointly. Let’s finish planning today. Tomorrow we begin working.”
The remainder of this day was devoted to finalization of the overall plans for the years of plenty. When they left for the day, each had the specifics of their area to develop, and then to coordinate with the others as outlined in the overarching plan.
With each of the group except Joseph and Potiphar tasked with specific actions, Joseph and Potiphar could begin plans for travel. Before going in different directions, they must address the issue of foreign sales. But that was for another day.
Joseph was alone when he came into the king’s presence the following morning. Each of the others had begun their individual tasks, as the king knew.
The king accepted Joseph’s statement assuring him that the others had begun their plans. Joseph stated that he and Captain Potiphar would begin their travels within two days, jointly going to Memphis, then separating and covering their respective areas.
“I am pleased, Joseph, with the progress to this point. The mission of you two is perhaps the most important. Your presence will do much to enhance the edict sent to the governors in each district.
“You will find yourself at a disadvantage traveling with Potiphar since he has a chariot. I am rectifying that by presenting you with your own horse and chariot.”
The king rose and put a hand on Joseph’s shoulder, guiding him toward the door.
“Come see your chariot.”
They proceeded out the front door of The Residence. A shiny new chariot hitched to a fine looking horse stood waiting for Joseph’s command.
The chariot was similar to the king’s own. Like Potiphar’s chariot, the primary differences were the absence of the king’s emblem, and an appearance that was slightly more functional and less ornate.
Joseph was well aware that his arrival anywhere in Egypt in a chariot was a powerful symbol of the king’s backing. Considering the task of conveying the importance of his message, this symbolism was a powerful boost.
The finalization of plans for handling the famine completed only one half of Joseph’s preparations for the future.
Beyond Introductions
There was no way to plan for a future with Asenath until they each came to know each other in the present.
Their marriage pronouncement by the king had been the introduction of Joseph and Asenath to each other. The following events, particularly Asenath learning that she was an eastern foreigner rather than daughter of an Egyptian high priest, had not allowed the normal interactions for learning about one another. She was in the process of creating a new identity based on her true origin, and learning of her husband’s identity must be secondary.
Joseph remembered his similar struggle. When the path leading from the past suddenly is blocked and a new beginning is required, a new foundation is the first building block.
On the night following his marriage to Asenath, the evening of his second day planning for the famine, Joseph returned to his – their – apartment in The Residence.
Asenath and Tem were not present. The hour was somewhat late, well after sunset. Joseph had not eaten since midday meal during the day’s sessions, so he took some fresh fruit (from what appeared to be a bottomless bowl, always full) and went onto the roof to eat.
By then, the northern breeze had blown away much of the heat of the day and brought out the cool stars in place of the sun. The roof area was as large as the building, of course, so a number of people also took advantage of the relaxing atmosphere. The planted areas created something akin to rooms, giving some sense of privacy.
Joseph realized that he was looking at the same stars as he had as a child in Canaan. A sense of the oneness of this world flowed from that single observation, spreading to the oneness of the plants and animals and people. Yes, there were differences, but those things that were different allowed them to adapt to their different environments and to maintain the best life possible.
This moment on the roof was one of those when God seemed as close as the end of his fingertips, and the solutions to all problems were not only possible, but assured. Time and distance disappeared, all compressed into the present place and moment.
Perhaps he dozed, but he saw that the moon had now risen, chasing the stars and over taking them with his brightness. Asenath stood over him.
“I saw your coat thrown across the chair and thought you might have come here.”
“Watching the stars always has been a calming pastime. Their peaceful order gives assurance that all is well and moving on schedule.”
He smiled and added, “And they are telling us that it is time to go back downstairs.”
He rose and took her arm, and they returned to the great room.
Asenath took the seat she had occupied the previous night, their first night in a new world. Joseph smiled to himself that already there was a sense of what was hers in their new living space. He assumed that Tem had already retired, sensible to the need for the two newlyweds to have time to themselves.
“Was your day here at The Residence a good one, or did you go to the outer gardens, perhaps?”
After a pause, she said, “I do not know if it was a good day. I don’t even know what ‘good’ means anymore since what is good for me appears also to be hurtful.”
Showing exasperation with the way she had expressed herself, she closed herself to him, folding her arms across her breasts. After a moment, she struggled with how to continue.
“No, that is not it. Well, part of it…maybe. What I mean is that now that I am not who I was, who am I?”
She had dropped her arms, now partly outstretched, palms open toward Joseph, ready to receive.
The conversation had progressed no farther than the night before. And Joseph reminded himself that his own adjustment to a new identity had taken much longer than a day.
“A week ago, your past was secure and your future was assured. What has changed since then?”
Asenath looked at him with great surprise, raising a hand to shake a finger at him. “As if you did not know! I find that I was born to easterners, not to the people that I thought were my parents. And then I am not married to the son of the priest of Amun in Thebes, as promised, but to an eastern slave who owns nothing but somehow has risen to be one of the greatest men in Egypt!
“What has changed, indeed!” She made her exasperation with the question quite plain.
“But you are still Asenath, the same woman of a week ago. Did you choose your parents or decide where you were to be born?”
“Of course not!” she replied haughtily.
“If your parents and birthplace were not your decisions but were decided for you, how is it that you are to blame for them?”
“You know that people think differently of easterners. And women are treated differently there, almost like slaves, I hear. So will this be what people think of me? Will this be how you treat me?”
Joseph recognized fear in her voice, and it was even greater than the fear of how others would think of her. He longed to reason with her, but knew its limitations.
“What is it that people value in another person, Asenath? Is it not their kindness and trust, their love and character? In our brief time, I have seen your character and these other traits that we all value. They have not deserted you, nor will those who know you leave you friendless.”
He could see that she was listening, trying to reconcile these words with her own words spoken against slaves from the east only the day before. Perhaps she was wrestling with defending her prejudice and thus condemning herself, or else casting aside her prejudice and thus freeing herself. Ingrained beliefs, especially those operating below the level of conscious awareness, are woven so deeply into the fabric of our worldview that we cling to them as if a matter of life and death.
Asenath looked at Joseph, no single emotion dominant, but a conflicting mix leaving her speechless. At least fear no longer dominated as she sorted through truths and lies in an attempt to discern the reality of her existence.
To move forward required that he move forward. Joseph stepped closer.
“You are both the Asenath that you have become, and the Asenath you are becoming. Your identity, your character, is your choice. Your character is how you choose to respond to circumstances, not the events themselves over which you exert no control.”
Even in the soft light he could see her tenseness lessening, the taut muscles in her neck and face relaxing. She seemed to be returning to her present place rather than teetering on the edge of an uncertain future.
Joseph stepped close enough to hold her hands between them. He raised them to his lips, kissing each one in turn.
Her eyes remained downcast, looking down but not seeing. Joseph stooped down, lowering his head until his eyes met hers. He balanced precariously, bending his knees and looking up awkwardly, forcing her to focus on him.
“I do not think that I can remain in this position very long,” he said in a strained voice. Her eyes finally met his. She then saw his smile and raised her eyes, allowing him to rise with them.
“How can I help you to see your value in who you are at this very moment?”
She struggled with her response, finally saying, “Don’t tell me so casually of how we do not have to live together as husband and wife, and that we can divorce in two years. If I am at all lovable to you, love me and be to me as a husband to a wife.”
Joseph felt the possibility of a mutual bond, the seed germinating and a tender leaf emerging. Believing this fragile stem capable of developing into full bloom, he responded, “Asenath, I take you as my wife. Will you have me for your husband?”
She smiled, almost a laugh. “Yes, I take you, Joseph, as my husband.”
“Then let us be as man and wife.”
Asenath threw her arms around him, drawing him as close to her as she could. She stood on tip toes, the strength of her grip increasing as she pressed her lips against his.
She did not want to hear another truth at this moment.
Fairness
Joseph found he could not argue against King Senusret’s plan for distribution of the grain, but he knew there was a key element missing.
Yes, the king would make the investment in the storage facilities and in transporting the grain. He would make the storehouses secure, and food would be available to the people when the years of famine came.
Joseph recognized the wisdom in the king’s plan. Even with foreknowledge of the famine to come, the people could not be counted upon to store sufficient grain in the good years. And what of those people that did not work the land – the military and the craftsmen and the day laborers – where would they get food?
Under the king’s plan, those who did not have their own food storage would find the cost of food very high. They would have to sell everything they owned over the course of the famine, perhaps even themselves. The result would be an impoverished and enslaved nation owned by the king.
The antidote for the famine was to plan for the lack of food as the king demonstrated by his own actions.
The antidote for the financial burden produced by the king’s solution to the famine was foreknowledge and action on the part of the people.
Knowledge is never enough. Action based on that knowledge is required. Would it be possible to motivate the people to action, to save sufficient grain for the future?
The people who could store grain would find themselves able to endure the famine. Those who did not act would be reduced to poverty, perhaps even enslavement.
Joseph thought of his shepherd life from so long ago, how knowledge of nature and trust in God had all seemed interwoven into the fabric of life. Knowledge and trust led to informed action – could this concept win the day for the people?
Joseph found that he had only questions. How would his own family in Canaan prepare if they knew the famine was inevitable in seven years? The farmer could store grain, but the nomad had nothing equivalent to store. Flocks would die if there was no rain, no grass.
And the nomad carried all possessions from place to place. Carrying several years’ supply of food was hardly realistic even if it were available.
The king’s plan essentially required every person to become self-sufficient or become enslaved. This was the failing in the plan.
Joseph could see the world increasingly was interconnected, interdependent. Interdependence allowed people to focus on what they did best, and everyone was better for it. Few individuals were in a position to be good at everything, able always to be self-sufficient.
The alternative to a self-sufficient existence in a famine was to be at the mercy of the king. And that was the issue: the key element missing from the king’s plan was mercy.
Perhaps mercy was the warning itself, and the response of each individual was acceptance or rejection of that mercy, evidenced by the plans they made in preparation.
The greater the number of families who prepared for the famine sufficiently, the less drastic would be the economic effects. The more food available in the famine, the less would be the rise in food prices for those who were unable to store food.
Even the non-farmers could prepare. Those who did not grow their own food could buy at the cheaper prices of the plentiful years rather than at the higher prices of the years of famine. They could save the amount not spent on food in these good years. Even the nomad, almost non-existent in Egypt, could do this, although again the issue of storage required the assistance of someone settled who could act as guardian.
But planning for the future, adjusting a lifetime of thinking to a new reality, was not the nature of men. Change was difficult, even with foreknowledge. Information was not enough. There must be a change in the will, a change in the form of action.
Joseph saw his role coming into focus more clearly: his task was to encourage as many as possible to prepare fully for the coming famine. This had been God’s purpose in placing him in this position, not to enrich the king, but to save the people.
This thought of God’s purpose for Joseph brought to mind his marriage to a woman from a nation that worshipped idols. Even her name, Asenath, was understood by the Egyptians as a reference to the goddess Neith, associated with the creation of the earth. Neith also was the goddess of several other things, from war to weaving. What irony that Asenath’s real father had been killed by Simeon and Levi for being what Asenath was raised to be in Egypt, a worshipper of idols!
Joseph had stood before her, the second most powerful man in Egypt, telling her of his experiences as a slave. His was the story of a prince of the nomads falling twice into slavery, and each time rising higher, finally giving warning to a whole nation of approaching famine. Behind this story was the guiding hand of a supreme being. She could see that Joseph’s God was not a piecemeal god, one of many, small and with limited powers wielded with human emotion.
Now he could not help but see the story of Asenath’s life, culminating in this marriage, as any less divinely directed than his own. And Asenath, after learning the true story of her birth and transport to Egypt by Teyma, also could see the workings of a God who ruled all. Some coincidences are too extraordinary. Her mindset was changing on this and many things.
A conversion to a new way of thinking about the world is rarely because of a good argument. Experience more firmly establishes a lasting change to a new way of seeing, a new way of thinking, a new way of being in an old world.
Asenath’s own story, the new story of the new Asenath, was still in its infancy. And her story was now an integral part of Joseph’s story. She even was a model for change, not in information and outward appearance, but in mind and substance.
No, she was not directly a part of the story of the king’s dream of the coming famine, but she was a model for the change that must occur. They had each arrived at this point from their separate realms. He could not complete her journey for her any more than she could complete his for him. But they could mature in understanding and enjoy the moments when the two circles overlapped.
The differences of the king’s two dreams that were as one dream came to mind. So two lives, each sufficient in its singleness, might take on more significance when joined together as one.
Neferu’s comments on the Tale of the Eloquent Peasant also came to mind. The king as husband, father, and brother to his people perhaps was not very different from the role of husband to wife, fulfilling the roles of family left behind. And so the wife also, being as mother and sister to the husband, being that feminine half given up at creation when God divided the first man.
And this spoke of the unity of all, first with God, and then with the others created by God. And thus, the king’s dreams, and Joseph’s interpretation of them, all for the purpose of serving – and saving – others.
The importance of preparation was now paramount. This preparation required not only the king’s reserves for the years of famine, but for the people to prepare their own reserves.
With the focus of his mission now clearer, Joseph felt called to begin as soon as possible. The goal was not just to warn of the coming famine and why the king required one-fifth of their larger harvest. This was only a part of the message.
The larger message was that no one had more interest in their well-being in the future than themselves. The king would prepare a buffer against famine, but the people must prepare for their own futures, as well. Essentially, they must reserve a portion of their own crops to avoid losing all of their possessions, even their freedom.
Spurred to action by these considerations, Joseph would have to speak with Potiphar. With the captain’s additional input, the two of them would prepare a plan.
Another Perspective
On the evening that the king had given the chariot to Joseph, he returned to the apartment and found Asenath alone.
After greetings and a kiss on Asenath’s cheek, Joseph asked where Tem was.
Asenath replied, “You will be traveling a lot from what I understand. Tem and I will need to make friends among the people here at The Residence. I have begun to know others during the daytime hours, but I thought she might go to the common area in the evening and see who is there.”
“Tem has been very good about giving us time in the evening. She is pleasant, and I enjoy her company. But I also enjoy the extra time when we are together to talk, to get to know more about you.”
“Yes, and we must take advantage of the time we have here at the present moment.” She smiled and returned the kiss on the cheek, merely a light peck.
Asenath stepped back, as if to set a new tone. “Tell me the events of your day.”
Motioning toward the cushioned chairs, Joseph said, “Perhaps we should sit down.”
He then recounted the exchanges with the king regarding justice, fairness, and mercy.
Asenath listened to Joseph as he recounted the king’s argument for how he would handle distribution of food during the famine. She did not interrupt, but let him tell the whole story.
Joseph ended the story with a question. “The king’s solution appears to be fair and just, and yet something is lacking. What is his plan missing?”
“You use the words ‘fairness’ and ‘justice’ often, and they seem to be the same thing. Or are they really different?
“I ask because you are concerned about the poorest of the people, the working poor, I have heard you call them. Is fairness for the working poor the same as justice for the working poor?”
Joseph spread his hands. “Is not fairness a part of justice, and justice a larger term that must include fairness? Or let me ask in another way.
“The rich landowner with laborers builds a grain storage shed and saves grain for seven years. The poor farmer who has no workers but himself hardly has enough food for his family even in a very good year, but no place to store anything for the years of famine.
“When the famine comes, the rich man feeds his family and workers from his grain stores, but the poor man must sell everything he owns to buy food so that he and his family can survive. Is this situation just? Is it fair?”
Asenath shook her head. “No, this is neither justice nor fairness. You are right that something is missing.”
After a pause, she said, “Justice and fairness will come only with forgiveness.”
With great surprise, Joseph asked, “What has forgiveness to do with this issue. Who must be forgiven and for what?”
“The king must forgive the people for being poor,” Asenath replied. She stood up and began pacing slowly, deep in thought. Looking at him and seeing his expression, she saw that he still did not understand.
“The king blames the poor for their poverty, their need.” She turned away again. “A week ago, I felt the same way.”
She turned back again so that she stood face to face with Joseph. “Not consciously, of course. But just as I blamed foreigners for not being Egyptian, I blamed the poor for being who they are.
“The king sees the poor and he believes they have brought poverty upon themselves. It is true that some may have shirked work or chosen not to plan for the future. But the great majority have come into this world from parents who are poor. How are they not to be poor?”
She smiled. “As you said to me, I had no control over who my parents were or where I was born. There is no blame in circumstances.”
Joseph began to nod and then laughed. “You have given me my answer with my own words.”
Joseph felt a sense of pride in his wife, this woman he knew only in part. She was changing before his eyes, and he was sure that change - both his and hers - would create a stronger bond.
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