The Joseph Dialogues. Alan Sorem

      “Just a bit more,” I said. “I think you will enjoy what you are about to see.”

      The pathway circled to the left and came up over a rise. We stopped.

      “Incredible!” Joseph exclaimed.

      We were standing on a low shoulder of the hill that sloped downward to an expansive pool of clear water.

      He turned to me. “But where does the water come from?”

      I smiled. “The pool is fed from an underground stream which has never run dry. But come, there is a place,” I pointed, “where we will have shade as we enjoy our midday meal.”

      As we ate the contents of our packets and drank wine from the flask, I told Joseph a treasured family story. Long ago the pool was the reason Demostrate purchased the land.

      “Therefore it is called Demostrate’s Pool,” I explained. “In the summer, children from the village come and swim. I insist at least one adult must accompany them, as the pool deepens considerably near the middle.”

      We chatted on and at last I asked Joseph a question.

      “I know your father. You have told me about your mother and things about Nazareth. But your name is not a common one in our area. How did you come by it?”

      “My name? Joseph, you mean?”

      “Yes. Those who live here are descendants of Greeks and the old names are passed down. But that is not true in Galilee.”

      “Only a few Greek names, it is true. But Joseph is an honorable name, and there are other Josephs in Galilee.”

      We were sitting on the grass and he turned to me.

      “You have never heard of the famous Joseph of Hebrew heritage?”

      “No. Was he a famous king?”

      “Not quite. But let me tell you the amazing story of Joseph.”

      5

      “

      Joseph,” he began, “was the eleventh son of a man named Jacob. The first by Jacob’s wife Rachel. In his youth, Jacob’s mother had connived with him to cheat his older brother, Esau, out of his inheritance. But that is a story for another time. The important thing to know is that Joseph was the darling child of Jacob. He received many gifts from his father. As he grew older, Joseph’s older brothers were jealous to the point of boiling anger. And it did boil over one day as they all were tending flocks.”

      It sounded to me like an old Greek tale. “They killed him!”

      “No. They wanted to, but the oldest brother, Reuben, convinced them to dig a pit instead and leave Joseph there to die.”

      “Did he?”

      Joseph smiled. “No. Others came along, helped him out of the pit and sold him to the head of a camel caravan that passed by.”

      “This is a true story?”

      “It is a true story.”

      “So the caravan ended up somewhere and he was sold again.”

      Joseph nodded. “Yes. Egypt. And he was sold to the captain of Pharaoh’s guards. He became a very able manager of the household. The captain’s wife desired Joseph, but he refused her advances.”

      “Ah. There is no anger as hot as that of a spurned woman.”

      “Exactly. She told her husband a lie. Joseph was the one who made advances and he forcibly took her.”

      “So it was ‘goodbye Joseph.’”

      “Indeed. Off to jail, where an interesting thing happened. Joseph’s skill in handling matters was readily apparent. The chief jailer gave Joseph authority over all the prisoners.”

      “They broke out?”

      “Oh, no. Something else. Two important members of the royal household—the chief cupbearer and the chief baker—offended Pharaoh and were thrown in the same prison.”

      “And they schemed with Joseph.”

      My Joseph laughed. “Wrong again. The two disgraced men had strange dreams, which Joseph interpreted for them.” He held up his hand to forestall my next comment. “The dreams, he told them, meant that in three days the chief cupbearer was to be restored to his position but the chief baker was to be hanged. And so it came about.”

      “This tale has many twists and turns.”

      “Yes. But then for quite a while nothing further happened as Joseph continued in his role as manager of the prisoners.”

      “And then?”

      My friend smiled. “Two years later, Pharaoh had strange dreams. First about seven sleek and fat cows and a second one about seven lean and ugly cows. Pharaoh fretted and fussed about the meaning of the dreams, but neither he nor anyone in his court could make sense of them. At last the cupbearer remembered Joseph and told Pharaoh of a man who had interpreted his own dream.”

      “Aha. Joseph goes to the Pharaoh’s palace.”

      “Yes. And he told Pharaoh the meaning of the dreams. Seven good years of crops were coming, followed by seven years of famine. For the Egyptians to survive, huge storehouses needed to be built, to be filled by crops from the seven bountiful years.”

      “I can see it all. Joseph was placed in charge of building the storehouses.”

      “Even better.” My friend gave me a broad grin. “He became the governor over the land at the right hand of Pharaoh.”

      I clapped my hands. “What a good ending for the boy thrown into a pit by jealous brothers!”