Sermon: Genesis 41:46-57 - Joseph Series, Oct 04, 2026
Scripture: Genesis 41:46-57
Preacher: Ryan Slifka
Sermon: “Bread, Both Kinds” Genesis 41:46-57 - Joseph Series,
Look how far Joseph has come. Sold into slavery, thrown into prison. Now, thanks to his unique combination of skills–administration and dream interpretation–the Egyptian Pharoah has appointed him Prime Minister of Egypt. He’s gone from pit to palace by age thirty. Whoda thunkit?
As Prime Minister, Joseph does not disappoint. Remember how he interprets Pharaoh's dream about the seven emaciated zombie cows eating the seven fat cows? And the seven ears of corn? How the dream meant that there’d be seven years of booming crops, followed by seven years of famine? Well, Joseph takes all those God-given talents he has, and he puts them to work famine-proofing the kingdom.
During the seven abundant years, vines, orchards, and fields overflow with produce, it says “like the sand of the sea.” There’s so much grain they just stop measuring it. Joseph gathers the surplus from the countryside and stores it in city granaries for later.
Following the seven years of plenty, the famine hits just as predicted. We don’t know if it’s the climate, or if it’s disease or what, but we do know that it’s global. “There was famine in every country,” it says. But thanks to Joseph’s shrewd administration, it says, “in Egypt there was bread.” When the whole land goes hungry, Pharaoh directs them to his Prime Minister: “go to Joseph,” he says. “What he says to you, do.” And they do. Joseph opens the storehouses. And he sells them bread. Disaster averted, all thanks to Joseph’s brilliance.
Even more impressive, “all the world” comes to Joseph in Egypt to buy grain. His intervention extends beyond his own kingdom to the nations: Egypt’s abundance feeds the world, saving Egypt and its neighbours.
Here Joseph finally makes his way from prison to palace, where–with great prudence and foresight–he engineers the salvation of Egypt and his neighbours. Remember a few weeks ago when Joseph was in prison? When we were told that “the Lord was with him,” and that God made everything he was in charge of “prosper in his hand.” This is more of that–just on the largest scale possible. Not bad for any thirty year old! Let alone a thirty year old ex-slave!
Now, what are we supposed to make of this?
I’m gonna borrow from last week’s preacher Foster Freed. You’ll remember that Foster preached three mini-sermons. I’m gonna spare you one. By preaching just two.
The first mini sermon has to do with power. Or, more precisely, the proper use of power. Joseph’s at the height political authority. He has everything, can do anything. But what does he do? He turns to service.
In response to the dream he decoded for Pharaoh, he marshals all the resources of the kingdom in the good times to prepare for the bad. Joseph implements a state policy that protects its citizens–especially the poor and most vulnerable–from the worst consequences of natural and economic cycles.
The great Reformer, Martin Luther once contrasted Joseph with the “self-seeking merchants” of his time. Instead, Joseph is an example of a faithful magistrate who not only serves himself, but the common welfare.[i] Which is to say that, rather using his power for his own enrichment, Joseph uses his power, his status, his wealth, for the sake of his fellow citizens. Especially the poor and hungry. And in doing so he follows the commandment to love neighbour more than four centuries before that commandment is spoken aloud. It’s where we get the phrase “public servant.” Joseph uses the power he’s given for the purpose of service.
And here Joseph is gesturing towards Jesus.
On the night that the Lord was betrayed, he gathered his disciples, saying “all power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” And how does Jesus display his power? He grabs a towel, he kneels before his disciples—and he washes their feet. Power for the purpose of service.
You see, we tend to see power as something to grasp onto for dear life, or to get rid of as evil. What do we do first when we find ourselves in positions of privilege or power? Wring our hands with worry? Self-flaggelate with guilt? No—our first inclination is gratitude. Like Joseph, we give thanks for what we’ve been given, by deploying what we’ve been given for love of neighbour. The common good of our fellow human beings. Not by grasping, or by hoarding, self-promotion or self-service. But by practicing generosity by giving away some of what we’ve got. Power for the purpose of service.
And you know, it’s how we might discern the effectiveness of our political leaders, too. Whatever ends of the political spectrum. Liberal or conservative, progressive, socialist or green. You wanna know how serious a politician is about serving the common good? See how they speak of and act towards their enemies. After all, Joseph doesn’t just rescue Egypt. Without distinction between friend or enemy, we’re told that with Joseph, everybody hungry, including Egypt’s neighbours, got bread.
That’s the first, mini-sermon. Joseph gives you and I a model for the use of our own wealth, power, authority—in the same way Joseph deploys Egypt’s resources to feed Egypt’s, we’re to deploy our own for the common good. Power for the purpose of service.
That’s the first. Now, here’s the second. Rather than political, the second is spiritual.
Egypt, the whole world is in famine. Joseph supplies the world with bread. There are parts of our world, certainly, that still know famine. And–undoubtedly–our politics of the common good direct us to help alleviate global hunger.
And yet, physical hunger isn’t the only kind of hunger there is–is it?
Here in Canada, at this time, most of us have our basic physical needs met in ways our great grandparents never would have imagined. Especially when it comes to food.
We’ve got so much food that one of our great wonder-drugs actually stops us from eating. Meanwhile, our consumption of pills for anxiety and depression continues to grow. Fear about the future, disappointment when it comes to our careers, sadness and loneliness, we’ve got more of it than ever before. Our shopping carts overfloweth. And so why can our lives sometimes feel so empty?
Jesus himself says it–human beings don’t live by bread alone. He doesn’t say we don’t live by bread at all–sermon #1 made that clear. But we don’t live by bread alone. There’s more to life than our basic physical needs.
In the midst of such literal plenty, we’re experiencing a spiritual famine. Famine, where we get the word famished. Even Saint Springsteen of New Jersey says “everybody’s got a h-u-unger-y heaaaart.” We’re doing our best to satisfy this hunger we have, whether it’s dopamine hits from our phones, political outrage, managing our health or trying to manage our kids into success. Or sex, or substances, financial security or personal identity. Regardless of what we consume, or how much we consume, it’s just never enough. How come our spirits are still hungry? When it comes to our fundamental need in life, how come we’re still starving? Maybe even more than ever before?
That’s because our deepest hunger in life is for one thing: and that’s God.
We’ve talked about this multiple times before. There’s a famous quote attributed to the philosopher Blaise Pascal that each of us has a God-shaped hole, or vacuum, in our souls.[ii] We have infinite spiritual appetite, that we try to fill with finite things. We’re spiritually starving, because we’re hungry for God. God made us for God’s self. And nothing else can truly satisfy.
Jesus isn’t named in today’s Old Testament passage—it takes place hundreds of years before him. But since Jesus appeared, we hear echoes of him throughout the Bible. This is one of them.
In the same way Joseph is given all power and authority over Egypt by Pharaoh, Jesus is given all power and authority in heaven and on earth by the Creator of the universe.
Whereas Joseph came into his kingdom through suffering, humiliation, and imprisonment, Jesus, likewise, came into his kingdom through suffering, humiliation, imprisonment and death.
In the same way that Pharaoh instructed the nations to go to Joseph for bread, “go to Joseph; what he says to you, do,” on the mountaintop God the Father declared to the world–”this is my beloved Son–listen to him!” Or as Matthew Henry puts it, like Pharoah pointing to Joseph, “thus God in the gospel directs those that apply to him for mercy and grace to go to the Lord Jesus, in whom all fullness dwells.”[iii]
Jesus came into the world to end our spiritual famine. In the same way Joseph opened up the overflowing granaries of Egypt to the starving bellies of the world, Jesus opened the gates of everlasting life to all who seek him, not just in the future, but to be tasted here and now.
Peter Howson, an artist who struggled with drinking and heroin use for most of his adult life described a time of deep crisis. There he had an experience of Jesus, who told him: “You are loved, you don’t need alcohol and drugs.”
“I’ve been angry for years,” he writes. “And drink and drugs were part of that, until I realised that God is the only safe addiction. It took me three or four months to discover how it feels to be loved and to love.”[iv]
That hunger we’ve got. The hunger you’ve got… the one that goes beyond the belly to your spirit, to your soul, the one you’ve been trying to fill day after day with empty spiritual calories… Jesus came into the world to fill it.
Sounds great—but what do we have to do? What prayer, meditation, lifehack, good deed, or donation will get it for us?
Well, here’s the beauty. The answer is nothing.
“I AM the bread of life,” Jesus says. “I AM the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." He’s speaking these very words to us. To me… and to you.
There’s absolutely nothing you’ve gotta do to earn it, nothing you can do to deserve it… just receive. In the same way the nations streamed to Egypt for bread, all you’ve gotta do is come to the Lord who made you with open hands he gave you, trusting that who he says he is… is true.
Shortly in the service we’re gonna have an opportunity to do just that, when we come forward to the table together for the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion. In the same way Jesus offered himself in the cup and loaf at the Last Supper, he gives himself to you and to me, all over again when we come to receive the bread and the wine.
“This is my body,” he says. “Broken for you.” And by that he means just that, not somebody else–but you! When you come forward, I want you to come with your hands open, ready to receive. And when you do I pray that you receive it not only as simple bread–which it is–but that receive it, too, as the Lord himself, as bread for your soul. As a promise made to you by Jesus himself, sealed in his blood. That with him you need never be hungry again.
That’s sermon number two. Joseph, in relieving the famine of Egypt points us forward to Jesus, who relieves the our even deepest hunger–our hunger for God. May you eat, and be satisfied. May you experience fullness of life in his name.
Two sermons is probably enough. I offer both of them to you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[i] Martin Luther, On Trading and Usury, Southern Illinois University website, https://opensiuc.lib.siu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=&httpsredir=1&article=5018&context=ocj
[ii] Likely a paraphrase of : “What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.” Blaise Pascal, Pensees https://www.ccel.org/ccel/pascal/pensees.viii.html
[iii] Matthew Henry, Commentary on Genesis 41, https://www.christianity.com/bible/commentary/matthew-henry-complete/genesis/41