(Reading: Genesis, Chapters 42-45)

Our account of Joseph broke off with his ascension to power in Egypt. Following his interpretation of Pharoah’s dreams about years of plenty and years of famine, Joseph was put in charge of making provision for Egypt’s welfare against those lean years. It was in that context that he and his treacherous brothers again came into contact.

The famine that beset Egypt was not limited to that country; it was regional. Its effects were felt in Canaan. Joseph’s planning not only protected Egypt but made it the region’s granary, from which famished people could buy grain. 

On two occasions, Joseph’s brothers made their way to Egypt to buy provisions. In both instances, they conducted their business with Joseph, although they did not recognize him. In both instances, Joseph puts the brothers to various tests. And in both instances, one brother (Benjamin) does not come with them. He is the youngest, one of the two sons (with Joseph) of the beloved Rachel. Believing he had lost Joseph, Jacob will not part from his other boy.

Eventually, however, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers and is reconciled to them. He declares that he sees the hand of Providence in what happened to him: God brought him to Egypt to prepare the way against the dire times in which they all now found themselves. Joseph asks them to bring Jacob and Benjamin to Egypt, where they would all settle and live happily ever after (with Joseph reigning over them).

Initially skeptical, Jacob is eventually convinced his beloved Joseph is alive. The whole clan — roughly 70 people — come and settle in Egypt where Jacob will die (though he will also meet Pharoah). Jacob’s death precipitates fears among Joseph’s brothers that his forbearance towards them had simply been for the sake of their father, but Joseph again repeats his conviction that the hand of God had brought him and them to Egypt. As the famine years wear on, Joseph uses the opportunity to augment Pharoah’s wealth: when the Egyptians can no longer pay for grain nor barter their cattle for it, Joseph lets them assign their land to the Pharoah. Genesis concludes with Jacob’s last testament and death, eventually followed by Joseph’s death. 

And that’s an important point to remember, because the Book of Genesis deliberately wants to close with Jacob and Joseph and the patriarchal family safely ensconced in Egypt. Because the next biblical book, Exodus, which will recount God’s liberation of the Hebrews from Egypt, starts with the statement: “Then a new king, who knew nothing of Joseph, rose to power in Egypt” (Exodus 1:8).

The Joseph story has long been a point of reference for culture, including Thomas Mann’s Joseph and His Brothers and the long-running Broadway play, “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.”

Joseph’s story today is illustrated by a work (not on exhibit) by Florence’s Biagio d’Antonio at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. Dating from sometime around 1482, it represents the height of “Italian” (though there won’t be an Italy until 1870) Renaissance art. And, as Renaissance art, it requires its own interpretation, because overlaying our concepts of space and time on it will only distort what we see.

The “Story of Joseph” combines a number of elements from the life of Joseph over time. Everything we see on the canvas does not occur simultaneously. Nor, obviously, did it occur in an “Egypt” designed like a 15th-century Italian lakeside villa with people dressed in Renaissance garb. But, as readers of this series should be familiar, Renaissance artists were prone to “dress” their paintings in the landscapes and costume of their times, not necessarily of the subject’s.

There are two “tiers” to this painting, allowing us to cover elements in Joseph’s life. (If you look carefully, the artist conveniently inscribes “Guseppo” and others’ names in individual scenes that are vignettes of the patriarch’s life. The painting is not a “snapshot in time” as much as the collage of a lifetime. The dominance of white in the Italo-“Egyptian” architecture only heightens the contrast with the colorful patches where we encounter episodes of Joseph’s life. And while they are almost “miniature paintings” within the overall painting, note the attention to color and detail (down to the folds of their clothing) in each of those miniatures.

Thus, in the upper left, along the riverbank, we see Potiphar buying the young Joseph (a small lad — remember, he’s Jacob’s second youngest) as a slave. Joseph is about to enter the door of his house, while the Ishmaelite traders, deal concluded, walk away. Moving rightward, we see resisting and fleeing the seductions of Potiphar’s wife (including the attempt to seize his cloak as he exits the door). A young Joseph also finds himself behind jailhouse doors on the right.

In the lower foreground, on the right we have a young Joseph interpreting Pharoah’s dreams about the state of coming Egyptian harvests. Finally, on the right, we see the arrival of his brothers’ entourage from Canaan, crowned by the presence of his long-missed father Jacob, arriving for sanctuary in Egypt.

(For another view of Joseph recognized by his brothers from a later period in history, see 19th-century German Peter von Cornelius, here.) Von Cornelius was part of the “Nazarene movement” in German romantic art which, as you can see, is more sensitive to the costume of the times, e.g., compare the nomadic garb of Joseph’s brothers with the Egyptian garb of Joseph. The lines and poses also give a kind of “Egyptian feel” to the figures (esp. Joseph), a tendency that would find expression in the “Beuron Art School” centered around that German monastery.

With this, we’ve completed the first book of the Old Testament. Exodus — from the decline of the Hebrew’s fortunes through their liberation from Egyptian slavery and God’s making of a covenant with his people — now awaits us.