So it came to pass, when Joseph had come to his brothers, that they stripped Joseph of his tunic, the tunic of many colors that was on him. Then they took him and cast him into a pit. And the pit was empty; there was no water in it. And they sat down to eat a meal. [Genesis 37:23-25a (NKJV)]
Back in 2015, after their Washington, D.C., home was invaded, a family of three and their housekeeper were held hostage and tortured for nineteen hours before being brutally murdered and their house set on fire. During the family’s incomprehensible ordeal, their captor had a pizza delivered and calmly ate it. Ultimately, it was DNA left on a piece of that pizza that led police to the killer. While discovering his identity was an astounding piece of detective work, what most astonished me is that, while holding four people hostage—people likely crying in pain and pleading desperately for their lives—someone could calmly eat a pizza! How could anyone have an appetite while committing such an atrocious and cruel crime? Yet, Daron Wint did! Convicted of 20 counts of kidnapping, extortion, and murder, he was sentenced to four life terms in prison without the possibility of parole.
As shocking as that story is, Daron Wint is not the only person who enjoyed a meal while his hostage pled for his life. That’s exactly what Joseph’s ten elder brothers did. You remember Joseph, the favored son of Jacob, the handsome one with the coat of many colors. When his jealous brothers conspired to kill him, thinking he could rescue his younger brother later, Reuben suggested throwing him into a dry cistern and leaving him to the mercy of the elements. After tossing Joseph like a piece of garbage into a pit, Scripture tells us the ten brothers then sat down to eat a meal.
Boys being boys, perhaps Joseph thought it was just a mean brotherly prank and his siblings would soon let him out of the well. “Come on guys, I’m hungry and thirsty,” he may have pled. “Help me up so I can have some lunch. I’ll even share my coat with you!” But, when Joseph heard his brothers coldly discuss selling him into slavery to some Ishmaelite traders and plot how they would explain Joseph’s failure to return home, it began to dawn on the boy that he was in serious trouble and his brothers weren’t joking.
Can you imagine the cries of the terrified youth once he realized what was happening and the danger of his situation? While Joseph begged for his life, his brothers ignored his cries and ate their meal. Can you imagine how he must have pled for their mercy, much as that Washington family probably begged for their lives? Unlike the pizza-eating criminal, however, Joseph’s brothers didn’t plan an outright murder. They left their brother’s future up to the slave traders. But, like that killer in D.C., they knew their victim’s anguish and refused to hear his cries.
Even though we’re not likely to invade a home and kill its occupants or throw a sibling into a pit and sell him into slavery, we’re not as different from Daron Wint and Joseph’s brothers as we’d like to think we are. Although we’re not plotting murder and mayhem while eating pizza or pita, I suspect we’re all somewhat guilty of ignoring the desperate cries of those in need.
Are we like the priest and Levite who ignored the cries of the dying man on the road to Jericho? While we probably can’t hear them with our ears nor see them with our eyes, we know they’re there. While calmly eating meals in the comfort of our homes, do we turn a deaf ear to the voices of the hungry in places like Sudan and Gaza? While enjoying an evening in our safe and cozy homes, do we turn a blind eye to the suffering and the devastation in war-torn countries like Ukraine, Sudan, Palestine, and Myanmar? Do we ignore the plight of refugees, the victims of injustice, and those whose lives have been torn apart by natural disasters? With callous indifference, have we turned our backs on our less fortunate brothers and sisters both here and across the globe? By ignoring their cries, do we condemn them to lives of strife, suffering, or death? How can we, as Christians, ignore the desperate cries of those in need? Let us remember that knowing the right thing and not doing it is as much as sin as is doing the wrong thing! [James 4:17]
I recently saw a sign on a church that read, “Be the Church—Fight for the Powerless.” We can’t do that for everyone but, chances are, we can do it for someone!
We must never minimize the suffering of another. Scripture’s mandate to us is, “Weep with them that weep.” [Billy Graham]
While anointing people seems a bit strange to us in the 21st century, in Jesus’ day it was a tradition among the Hebrews to anoint a guest with oil as a way of welcoming them into your home. Anointing them with perfume like nard, however, was a costly and significant act of devotion and honor—one saved for exceptional occasions. A major economic sacrifice, it signaled wholehearted commitment. That twelve ounces of nard used to anoint Jesus in Bethany represented a full year’s wages!
A firm with whom we do business sends us a newsletter every month. After asking their associates what accomplishment in the last year made them most proud, January’s newsletter shared some of the answers. One man was proud that, after reading up on motors, he managed to repair the family boat by changing the starter motor, another was proud that he expanded his horizons by hiking and rock climbing in various national parks during the year, and a third man was proud that a case he pled had been cited in several law review articles.
In the midst of all the tedious and repetitive regulations regarding sacrificial offerings in Leviticus, we find evidence of God’s love and mercy. For several sacrifices, a distinction was made between offering requirements for the wealthy and the poor. Called korban oleh v’yored, there was a sliding scale for sacrifice based on a person’s economic position. In Luke’s gospel, for example, we learn that Mary and Joseph brought two birds as their sacrifice after Jesus’ birth. Had the family been wealthier, they would have brought a one-year-old lamb and a pigeon or dove and, had they been poorer, they would have brought only two quarts of choice flour.
While the Hebrew word translated as covet, chamad, can mean “take pleasure in,” it also means “ungoverned selfish desire.” Chamad ranges from wholesome delight to illicit craving. It’s not a stretch to see how taking pleasure in something that isn’t yours can lead to desiring it and wanting to acquire it. When David saw Bathsheba on the rooftop, he delighted in her beauty but that delight grew into such desire that he took what belonged to his neighbor. When Achan saw the riches that were to be set aside for God, he coveted the wealth for himself and stole it. When Elisha’s servant Gehazi saw the wealth Namaan brought to his master, he was filled with desire for what wasn’t his to take. Coveting the wealth that Elisha refused to accept, Gehazi chased after Namaan, concocted a lie, and took some of that wealth for himself.
Devotions of the Heart 