Jacob Found His Dead Son Alive at a Feast in Goshen
After twenty-two years of mourning Joseph as dead, Jacob makes the long journey to Egypt and sits down to eat with him.
Table of Contents
Twenty-Two Years of a Wound That Would Not Close
When they brought Jacob the coat, the blood on it settled something in his mind that his heart refused to accept. His sons said: we found this. Do you recognize it? He recognized it. He tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and mourned for many days, and his children tried to comfort him and he would not be comforted. He said: I will go down to my son in the pit in mourning.
He mourned for twenty-two years. Through his sons' marriages, through the children that came from those marriages, through the accumulation of Canaan's ordinary time, the wound stayed open. Joseph was the son of Rachel, the wife he had worked fourteen years to earn. Joseph was the coat he had given. Joseph was the hole in the family that every day confirmed was still there.
Then the messengers came back from Egypt with news that the grain minister was Joseph. That Joseph was alive. That Joseph was asking for Jacob to come.
The Long Ride Down to Goshen
God spoke to Jacob at Beersheba before he crossed the border. Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt. I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down with you, and I will also bring you back. The promise had specificity to it: this was not an abandonment. This was a descent that had a return built into it.
Jacob sent Judah ahead to Goshen to find Joseph before the wagons arrived. When Joseph heard his father was close, he harnessed his chariot and rode out to meet him. The Book of Jubilees, which retells this moment with attention to the texture of what it felt like, does not linger on the first embrace in the way one might expect. It lingers instead on what happened after: the meal.
The Best Day of His Life
Joseph brought his brothers and his father together and they sat down at a table. They ate bread. They drank wine. And Jacob rejoiced, the Jubilees account says, with exceeding great joy. Not ordinary relief. Not the subdued gladness of a very old man who has been given unexpected news. Exceeding great joy.
The reason the text gives is precise: he saw Joseph alive, he saw Joseph eating and drinking with him, Joseph whom he had mourned as dead. The sight of his son chewing bread, lifting a cup, carrying on as a living human body carries on, the ordinary mechanics of being alive, was the specific thing that produced the exceeding great joy. Jacob had been mourning a dead son for twenty-two years. What he found in Goshen was not a ghost, not a vision, not a report. A man sitting at a table and eating.
Jacob called that day the best day of his life.
The Meeting With Pharaoh
Joseph brought his father before Pharaoh, and Jacob blessed Pharaoh. This is one of the remarkable moments in the Genesis narrative: the patriarch of a family of seventy people, a refugee fleeing famine, entering the court of the greatest empire in the region and blessing its king. The text treats it without comment. Jacob blessed Pharaoh. Pharaoh asked how old he was. Jacob said: the years of my pilgrimage are one hundred and thirty years, few and evil have been the years of my life.
One hundred and thirty years of few and evil days, and still Jacob called Goshen the best day. The twenty-two years of mourning a dead son, the years in Laban's house, the night at Jabbok, the rape of Dinah, the loss of Rachel, the long accumulation of grief that Jacob's life had been: all of it stood behind the moment of seeing Joseph eat bread, and the bread meal was still better than any of what came before.
What the Reunion Cost Joseph
When Jacob arrived at Goshen and Joseph rushed out to meet him, Joseph fell on his father's neck and wept. The Jubilees account notes that he wept for a long time. Joseph had been in Egypt for more than two decades, a slave and then a prisoner and then the second most powerful official in the country. He had built a life inside the empire that had taken him. He had married Asenath, had children, had learned to hold his past at some distance while he managed the present.
The sight of his father broke through all of that management. He could not explain to himself, in a way that held up, how he had managed to survive those decades without this face in front of him. The wept-for time was not only grief for what had been lost. It was also the release of something he had held in so long that the release itself was a kind of disintegration.
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