Sermon: Genesis 46:1-7, 28-34; 47:1-12 - Joseph Series, November 01, 2026
Scripture: Genesis 46.1-7, 28-34; 47.1-12
Preacher: Ryan Slifka
Sermon: Genesis 46:1-7, 28-34; 47:1-12 - Joseph Series,
I’d like to start with a show of hands. How many of us here agree with this statement: Canadians are, by and large, feeling upbeat, optimistic, or hopeful about the future?
If you didn’t raise your hands, you are correct. I was listening to a podcast on housing affordability recently, and the hosts said that younger Canadians–those in their 20’s and 30’s, and even going into their 40’s are a somewhat pessimistic bunch. And one of the reasons why is the growing unlikelihood many feel about ever owning their own home. Combine it with ever-increasing inflation driving up the cost of just about everything else, and you have something of a perfect storm of pessimism.[i]
Do a little digging, though, and you’ll find many other reasons. Polls indicate other factors including trade wars, real wars. Climate change, economic instability, low birth rates, the inability to find a stable spouse. And–of course–AI, either taking your job, or ending life as we know it. A recent poll suggested that as many as four out of five Canadians believe the world is g
etting worst, not better.[ii]
So instead of feeling hopeful, many Canadians feel discouraged about careers, marriage, children, and starting a family. We’re fearful and insecure about what lies ahead. What kind of future will we have that makes any of that worthwhile?
Of course, a little perspective might teach us that–as worrisome as many things are now–it sure beats the past. But that does nothing to change how it feels, does it? The future we face is deeply uncertain. And it don’t feel too good.
Which brings me in a roundabout way to today’s scripture, continuing our series on Joseph from Genesis. Which is all about what it means to face an uncertain, and insecure future.
Last week we heard about Joseph’s great reconciliation with brothers–the same brothers who had him sold into slavery. There was a seven year famine throughout the world, Joseph as essentially Prime Minister ensured Egypt had enough grain stored away weather it. So Joseph’s not only been able to send to relieve his family’s hunger in the land of Canaan, he’s got permission from the Egyptian Pharaoh to bring his whole family–including his father Jacob–to resettle in Egypt. They no longer need to face hunger anymore.
Here’s the insecure part–the focus of the story shifts from Joseph and his brothers, to their father, Jacob, also known as Israel. The family patriarch. While the move from Canaan to Egypt is undoubtedly the wisest one to make, imagine yourself as him.
First of all, he’s old. At 130 he’s even got Gertrude, who just turned 100 in our congregation, beat. This guy’s gotta be carried all the way. Imagine making a move like that at his age.
Not only that, but in leaving Canaan, he’s leaving the promised land. This is the very place that God promised to Abraham and Sarah, the place God led his ancestors to. This is the place where life is supposed to be good, supposed to be restful, it’s the place where his entire life has led to up until this point. So in leaving he’s giving up–yes–any safety and security he’s ever known, but also his divine inheritance. It’s like paying off most of the mortgage but then having to turn the keys into the bank because you can’t make the final payments.
And he’s leaving for where? Egypt. No internet to check the ratings–or books to read about it, even! They don’t speak the language or the same customs. All he knows is that it’s a gigantic pagan empire where their gods rule. For all he knows they’re just moving from pure poverty to flat out slavery. Which–if you read ahead to Exodus you’ll know that it is eventually slavery.
He’s leaving everything he’s ever known, everything he’s accumulated and earned. He’s leaving behind all stability and security–and not only that he’s so old just the bumps in the road are liable to turn his bones to dust. If you think you’re anxious and pessimistic about the future, imagine yourself as Jacob, or a member of his family. No security, no certainty, no safety at all. Now this is a journey into the fearful unknown. If there ever were one.
And you know what? This creaky old man does it. How does he do it? As usual–he does it with God.
As he sets out on his journey towards Egypt with “all he has,” Jacob comes to this place called Beersheba. Beersheba’s a place with a long history for his people, always on the journey from one place to the next. His grandfather Abraham planted a tree there and called on the name of the Lord. It was a waystation for Jacob himself on his way to Bethel, the place where he had his dream of a stairway to heaven with angels zipping up and down.
Perhaps the most important thing about the place, though, is the shrine, the altar his father built to God there on his way to Canaan. Isaac built it after a dream, a dream where God came to him, and God renewed the promise God made to his father Abraham. “Fear not,” God said. “Fear not, for I am with you, and I will bless you and increase your offspring the for the sake of my servant Abraham.”
Joseph offers a sacrifice to God at that very same shrine, and he has his own dream where the Lord comes to him. “I am God,” says the Lord. “I am God, the God of your Father; do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make of you a great nation there. I myself will do down with you to Egypt, and I will also bring you up again; and Joseph’s own hand shall close your eyes.” Like it’s the same dream, but it’s about heading into Egypt instead.
“I will go with you,” God says. Which is kind of crazy, because for ancient peoples gods were all local–they were heading into the land of the Egyptian Gods. But apparently, Yahweh, the God of Israel has no borders. He is sovereign no matter what soil they set on. “I will go with you,” God says, “and on account of me, you’ll make it through.”
And that’s what we see, Joseph setting out with all his sons and their wives and all their babies and all their livestock, carrying this old man all the way. And this crazy, audacious moment where this insanely brittle old man has the gall to bless Pharaoh, the most powerful man in the world–as if this guy needs the blessings of some two-bit shepherd family.
And not only that, God says. “You’ll to see your son before you die.” Which we also see. “And not only that,” God says, “I will bring you right up out of Egypt again.” Which we also see. Not literally of course, because that’s where Joseph will die. But God promises to bring God’s people out of Egypt again some day back to the promised land. Which also eventually takes place. See the book of Exodus.
Jacob could leave the land he held dear and step into the fearful unknown because God pledged to go with him. His confidence wasn’t in the journey, but in God. Like we just sang in our children’s song—like a rock, God was under his feet. God was his true home, even when he left his literal home behind.
And here’s the thing: it’s the same deal when it comes to us. We, too, have been given this same source of confidence where ever we may go.
Our promise, like Jacob’s, came in a dream, too. A dream to another guy named Joseph–as in Mary and Joseph.
There the angel of the Lord appeared quoting Isaiah, “look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means ‘God with us.’”
And our promise not only comes in a dream, but it comes in the form of a person–Jesus. At the end of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus, after having been raised from the dead sends his followers out in to the world in the same way God sent Jacob down to Egypt: “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And remember—remember!--that I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
I was recently listening to an interview with the prominent author, radio host, and disability advocate, Joni Eareckson Tada.[iii] Some of you, especially those who have been around more evangelical Christian circles will know her story. She became a quadriplegic at the age of seventeen. She went through several years of rehabilitation, which was accompanied by depression, suicidal ideation, and religious doubts. She just didn’t want to face the difficulty and humiliation of living as a person without the use of most of her body. It was a present and future, didn’t really want to face.
In that interview, she was asked how she not only faced this difficulty, but she’s become fruitful, inspiring countless people with her story. She said this:
“There have been mornings where I’ve woken up. I’ve said to myself. I don’t want this, I don’t want to live another day as a quadriplegic. It’s too hard. But every time I’m reminded of Paul in Philippians, who says, “I can do all things through [Christ] who strengthens me.”
This, she said, is the scripture not only for her but for every follower of Jesus. Note she didn’t say “I can do this by trying harder, pulling myself up by my bootstraps” or otherwise. But “I can do all things through [Christ] who strengthens me.” It’s account of Jesus, God with us. Like Jacob being carried to Egypt. That she can face the day. Come what may.
This is the same promise he makes to us. To me, to you. Whatever your fears, whatever uncertainties you face, or we face as a society. Whatever the future may hold, we need not be afraid, but like Jacob we can set out boldly, knowing that in Christ we have an anchor that keeps the soul steadfast and sure while the billows hold, fastened to the rock which can not move. Yeah though we may walk through the valley of the shadow of death we shall fear no evil. We can feel safe, even in times of trouble, secure, even in times of great tumult, hopeful, even in times of great despair. Why? Because God is with us. Even into that great and terrible unknown territory we call death. Even there.
And the best part? Augustine of Hippo, that great father of the church famously described Christians as sojourners, on a pilgrimage together through the earthly city to the heavenly one.CoG XV ch. 1. He’s not just with you or me, but he’s with us. Like Jacob and his great extended family, we’ve been given each other to journey with. To serve, support, and fortify.
So, dear friends. May the promises of our Lord bring you the same comfort they brought Jacob, our dear grandfather in faith. And may they make you just as fruitful. Though our times may be anxiety-inducing, may you take hold of the peace of his presence. Get married, have the kids. Build the friendships, give your whole heart over to love of God and throw your life into taking all the risks that make life worthwhile in service of your neighbours. We, dear friends, you can do all these things through Christ who, is with you, and strengthens you.
So be not afraid. No matter the journey ahead. For the Lord is with us. And will one day bring us home.
I offer this to you in the name of the Father and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. AMEN.
[i] “Is the Housing Crisis Radicalizing Young Voters?” The Missing Middle Podcast (October 2, 2026) https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/is-the-housing-crisis-radicalizing-young-voters/id1707954472?i=1000792737419
[ii] The Canadian Journalism Foundation, “Divided on Facts and Pessimistic About the World, Canadians Still Trust Journalists,” PR Newswire (Oct 27, 2026) https://www.newswire.ca/news-releases/divided-on-facts-and-pessimistic-about-the-world-canadians-still-trust-journalists-819288137.html
[iii] Chris Stirewalt and Ben Sasse, “Joni Eareckson Tada,” Not Dead Yet: A Joyful Rebellion podcast, October 27, 2026. Joni Eareckson Tada - Not Dead Yet - Apple Podcasts