The Grammar of Providence: When Sin Serves the Story Text: Genesis 50:15-21
Introduction: The Fearful Heart of Unbelief
We come now to the final scene in the grand drama of Joseph and his brothers. Jacob is dead, the period of mourning has concluded, and an old fear begins to creep back into the hearts of the ten. It is a fear born of guilt, a ghost summoned by a guilty conscience. While their father was alive, they felt a certain measure of security. Joseph, they reasoned, was likely restraining his vengeance out of respect for Jacob. But now that Jacob is gone, what is to stop Joseph from settling the score? Their sin, though decades old, is still crouching at the door of their hearts.
This is the nature of unforgiven sin, or sin that we refuse to believe is truly forgiven. It breeds a slavish fear of man. The brothers are not afraid of God nearly so much as they are afraid of Joseph. Their fear drives them to scheming and manipulation. They invent a story, a posthumous command from Jacob, in a clumsy attempt to manage Joseph and mitigate the wrath they are certain they deserve. They are operating out of a worldview of raw power, retribution, and karma. They cannot comprehend a world governed by grace because they themselves are not yet fluent in its language.
Their fear reveals a profound theological error. They still see the events of their lives as a horizontal story, a family squabble between them and Joseph. They fail to see the vertical reality, the grand narrative being written by the sovereign hand of God. Joseph, by contrast, has had decades in the school of affliction to learn this very lesson. He sees God's hand in everything, even in their malicious betrayal. And because he sees God's hand, he is a free man. He is free from bitterness, free from the need for revenge, and free to extend the very grace of God to his terrified brothers.
This passage is therefore a master class in the doctrine of providence. It tackles the hardest question of all: how can a good and all-powerful God use the genuine, culpable evil of men to accomplish His good and perfect will, without Himself being the author of sin? Joseph's answer to his brothers is one of the clearest and most profound statements on this doctrine in all of Scripture. It is the key that unlocks the problem of evil, not by explaining it away, but by revealing a God who is so sovereign that He can weave even the ugliest, most sinful threads into a tapestry of breathtaking grace.
The Text
Then Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, and they said, “What if Joseph bears a grudge against us and returns back to us all the evil which we dealt against him!”
So they sent a message to Joseph, saying, “Your father commanded before he died, saying,
‘Thus you shall say to Joseph, “Please forgive, I beg you, the transgression of your brothers and their sin, for they dealt evil against you.” ’ So now, please forgive the transgression of the slaves of the God of your father.” And Joseph wept when they spoke to him.
Then his brothers also came and fell down before him and said, “Behold, we are your slaves.”
But Joseph said to them, “Do not be afraid, for am I in God’s place?
As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to do what has happened on this day, to keep many people alive.
So now, do not be afraid; I will provide for you and your little ones.” And he comforted them and spoke to their heart.
(Genesis 50:15-21 LSB)
Guilt's Ghost Writer (v. 15-17a)
We begin with the brothers' panic attack:
"Then Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, and they said, “What if Joseph bears a grudge against us and returns back to us all the evil which we dealt against him!” So they sent a message to Joseph, saying, “Your father commanded before he died, saying, ‘Thus you shall say to Joseph, “Please forgive, I beg you, the transgression of your brothers and their sin, for they dealt evil against you.” ’" (Genesis 50:15-17a)
The death of a patriarch often brings a reshuffling of family dynamics. For the brothers, it removes their perceived shield. Their reasoning is entirely carnal. They project their own sinful hearts onto Joseph. Because they would hold a grudge, they assume he must. Their guilty conscience is a relentless prosecutor, arguing the case for their own condemnation. They know what they did was evil, and they know what they deserve is payback. Their fear is a confession of their guilt.
So what do they do? They resort to manipulation. They concoct a message, allegedly from their dead father. There is no record of Jacob ever giving this command, and it smells of a convenient fiction. They are trying to bind Joseph's hands with a sentimental appeal to paternal authority. This is what the fear of man does. It makes you a liar and a schemer. Instead of coming to Joseph honestly, confessing their fear and trusting in his character, they try to control the situation with a pious-sounding fraud. They are still trying to save themselves through their own works, their own cleverness.
Notice the language they use: "Please forgive, I beg you." This is the language of desperation. They are groveling because they believe they are at the mercy of a capricious human ruler. They still do not understand that true forgiveness flows not from human sentiment, but from a right understanding of God's sovereignty. They are appealing to Joseph's memory of Jacob, when they should be appealing to Joseph's knowledge of God.
A Godly Man's Tears (v. 17b)
Their appeal concludes with a stroke of theological genius, whether they understood its full import or not, and it provokes a surprising reaction from Joseph.
"So now, please forgive the transgression of the slaves of the God of your father.” And Joseph wept when they spoke to him." (Genesis 50:17b)
They identify themselves not just as his brothers, but as "the slaves of the God of your father." They are finally, perhaps unwittingly, putting the whole affair in its proper context. This is not just about a family feud; it is about covenant people sinning against one another before their covenant God. They are appealing to a shared loyalty that transcends their fractured brotherhood.
And Joseph's reaction? He weeps. Why does he weep? He does not weep from anger. He weeps from sorrow. He weeps because after all these years, after all his demonstrations of grace and provision, his brothers still do not understand him. They still fear him. They still think he operates on the same vindictive principles as they do. Their clumsy, fearful lie is a profound insult to his character and to the grace he has already shown them. It reveals the chasm that still exists between them. He has forgiven them long ago, but they have not yet learned to live as forgiven men. His tears are the tears of a loving father whose children still cower in his presence, unable to accept that his love is genuine.
Worship in the Wrong Direction (v. 18-19)
The brothers, likely misinterpreting his tears as a prelude to wrath, escalate their display of submission.
"Then his brothers also came and fell down before him and said, “Behold, we are your slaves.” But Joseph said to them, “Do not be afraid, for am I in God’s place?" (Genesis 50:18-19)
They fall down before him, fulfilling the dreams from decades earlier for the final time. They offer themselves as his slaves. This is the ultimate act of self-preservation, an attempt to appease the wrath of a man they have elevated to the status of a god. They are offering him the worship of fear.
Joseph's response is swift and theologically potent: "Do not be afraid, for am I in God’s place?" This is the crux of the matter. Joseph understands his role, and it is not the role of God. He is not the ultimate judge, the dispenser of final vengeance. To take vengeance would be to usurp God's throne. It would be to play God. The brothers, in their fear, are treating Joseph as God, as the final arbiter of their fate. Joseph, in his godly fear, refuses the honor. He knows that "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay, says the Lord" (Romans 12:19). Joseph's question is a gentle rebuke. He is telling them that their fear is misplaced. They are afraid of the wrong person. Their whole transaction is on the horizontal plane, and Joseph immediately lifts their eyes to the vertical. The issue is not what Joseph will do to them, but what God has already done through them.
The Divine Re-Captioning (v. 20)
Here we arrive at the diamond at the center of this story, the verse that re-frames and re-defines everything.
"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to do what has happened on this day, to keep many people alive." (Genesis 50:20)
This is the doctrine of concursus, or divine concurrence, in its most beautifully distilled form. Joseph does not minimize their sin in the slightest. He looks them in the eye and says, "you meant evil against me." He does not excuse their malice, their envy, their murderous hatred. Their intent was wicked, and they are fully culpable for it. There is no soft-pedaling of sin here. This is not a therapeutic "let's forget the past." No, he names their sin for what it was: evil.
But in the very same breath, he introduces a higher, more powerful intention. "But God meant it for good." Notice the parallel verbs. You meant (chashab), God meant (chashab). There were two distinct intentions at work in the same event. The brothers had a wicked plan. God had a righteous plan. And God's plan did not simply react to their plan; it enveloped it. It hijacked their sin and pressed it into the service of His sovereign, redemptive purpose. He used their evil to save them from starvation, to preserve the covenant family, and to set the stage for the Exodus. God did not just clean up their mess; He used their mess as a primary ingredient in His masterpiece.
This is the bedrock of Christian comfort in a fallen world. This principle applies not only to Joseph's brothers, but to Judas's betrayal, to Pilate's cowardice, and to the murderous cries of the Jerusalem mob. They all meant it for evil. But God the Father meant the cross for the ultimate good, the salvation of the world. God's sovereignty is not a rival to human responsibility; it is the framework in which human responsibility operates. He is so sovereign that He can guarantee the outcome without violating the will of His creatures. He ordains all that comes to pass, including the sinful acts of men, yet He does so in such a way that the responsibility for the sin remains entirely with the sinner.
The Fruit of True Forgiveness (v. 21)
Joseph's theology is not abstract. It immediately flows into practical, tangible grace.
"So now, do not be afraid; I will provide for you and your little ones.” And he comforted them and spoke to their heart." (Genesis 50:21)
Because Joseph understands God's providence, he can say with authority, "Do not be afraid." He is free to comfort them, not just with words, but with action. "I will provide for you and your little ones." This is the evidence of true forgiveness. Forgiveness is not merely the cancellation of a debt; it is the extension of blessing. He doesn't just promise not to harm them; he promises to nourish them. He will use the very power they feared he would use against them, for their good.
He "spoke to their heart." This Hebrew idiom means he spoke kindly, gently, reassuringly. He met them in their fear and shame and applied the balm of the gospel to their wounds. He was a type of Christ, showing them that the one they had betrayed and left for dead was now their only source of salvation and life. He was demonstrating that the evil they had done had been transformed by a sovereign God into the very means of their deliverance.
Conclusion: Living in the Story
The story of Joseph and his brothers is our story. We are the brothers. We have sinned against the beloved Son. We sold Him for a few pieces of silver. We meant it for evil, every one of us, in our rebellion and unbelief. Our sin nailed Him to the tree.
And like the brothers, we live in fear. We live in fear that our sin is too great, that God holds a grudge, that He is just waiting for the right moment to repay us for all the evil we have done. We try to manage Him with our flimsy, religious schemes, our invented pieties, hoping to appease a wrath we know we deserve.
But the greater Joseph, Jesus Christ, meets us in our fear. He weeps over our unbelief, that we would still think He operates on a karma economy. He tells us, "Do not be afraid. Am I in God's place?" He refuses to be our judge because He has already been our substitute. And then He speaks the ultimate word of providence to our hearts: "You meant it for evil when you sinned, but God my Father meant it for good, to bring about the salvation of many people."
The cross is the ultimate Genesis 50:20 moment. It is the place where the most evil act in human history, the murder of the Son of God, became the very instrument of the world's greatest good. Because of this, we are not just forgiven; we are nourished. We are provided for. He speaks to our hearts, not with condemnation, but with comfort. The challenge for us is to believe it. The challenge is to stop living like the terrified brothers and to start living like the beloved children of a Father who can make all things, even our most shameful sins, serve His glorious and good purpose.