Pastor Mark Evans

You hear it on the news almost every night: “It took us a long time to get into this mess, and it’s going to take us a long time to get out of it.”

It doesn’t really matter which particular “mess” they’re talking about – Iraq, the economy, Afghanistan, the housing crisis, rising unemployment. The answer is the same: Be patient.

I was thinking about that today, in the context of Joseph’s life. Before he knew it, he went from being the favored son of his father to a slave in a foreign prison. When his brothers sold him into slavery he was a 17-year-old teenager. By the time he gets released from prison, he’ll be a grown man of 30.

Math is not my strong suit, but even I can do that one. Thirteen years? Thirteen hard, dismal, gruel-eating years?

Seems to me a trial lasting that long would require something more than patience.

Perhaps you’ve been in a similar boat – in a marriage bogged down by the same problems, year after year after year. Or maybe you feel stuck in a job that’s no longer satisfying, to the point that you dread going to work in the morning – but you’ve been there so long that it doesn’t seem feasible to look for something else. Perhaps the relationship with your parents is the culprit, where they treat you like you’re still a kid, even though you’ve grown and matured and been on your own for decades.

Trials like that – the ones that drag on for years and decades, not weeks or months – are a common occurrence in the Bible. Abraham waited 25 years for God’s promise to be fulfilled in his life. Moses’ trial lasted 40 years. The Apostle Paul had a 13 year stretch between his Damascus road conversion and his first missionary journey.

Patience will get you through a short-term test, but you’re going to have to acquaint yourself with another word from the Bible in order to make it through a trial that endures for years. That word? Perseverance.

Here’s a simple definition of what it means to persevere: Fighting the battle while waiting with contentment.

It’s not shrugging your shoulders and simply giving up. It’s not pretending like the difficult situation doesn’t really exist. It’s staying engaged, relying upon God for the strength to make it through, one day at a time. It’s keeping hope alive in your heart, facing each day with a commitment to serve others with your gifts, no matter what your circumstances happen to be.

Which, by the way, is exactly what Joseph did in prison – for 13 long years.

Think about it like this: Those trials that seem to last forever – the ones that require you to turn your patience into perseverance – are actually the shortest route toward growth and maturity. When you learn to stay fully present in the midst of a long trial – with contentment that doesn’t depend upon your circumstances – you’ll discover that your destiny is much closer than you could ever imagine.

It’s true for us as individuals, and true for our nation as well.

That light at the end of the tunnel? The one that offers a glimmer of hope?

Sometimes it really is an oncoming freight train.

I imagine that’s the way Joseph felt. After all, he did the right thing by rejecting a sexual advance from another man’s wife. Surely he must have been thinking that would count for something … that somehow his circumstances would begin to improve for the better. He must have had at least a faint bit of hope that things would start to turn around. Perhaps he even allowed himself to harbor the thought that Potipher would reward his impeccable behavior by setting him free, allowing him to return to his family.

But no. Just when things couldn’t possibly get any worse … they do. It’s bad enough that Joseph is already a slave. Now he finds himself a slave in prison.

Ever been there? Ever had the experience where it’s one thing after another, cascading over you in rapid succession, until it feels like you’re standing beneath Niagara Falls gasping for breath?

Sure you have. We all have. It could be a financial setback that keeps escalating, one domino toppling the next. Or a relationship that’s turned sour, as new information keeps coming to light. Or a health setback that starts out as one thing, then morphs into something much more serious, as other issues are discovered.

So how do you respond when the trial you find yourself in suddenly accelerates? What do you do when things go from bad to worse?

You get excited.

I know – that sounds completely counterintuitive, right? I mean, what you want to do is get depressed. You want to withdraw to your cave, shut out the world, and sulk about the unfairness of life. You want to just close the door and nurse the misery, making sure everyone around knows how hard you have it.

But the Bible has the opposite perspective about difficult times. Here’s how James puts it:

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.” (James 1:2-3)

Count it all joy? Most of us just want to get out of the trial as soon as possible. We want a quick return to our comfortable life, the one that’s smooth sailing, where we avoid any unnecessary bumps and bruises along the way.

But God takes a different view. He’s more interested in our character than our comfort. And while we can’t see beyond the next bend in the road, He already knows where things are headed – and has both our best interests and destiny in mind. It’s during the difficult times that God produces in us the fruit of the Spirit, those qualities that reflect His heart to everyone around us – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23)

When you think about it like that, perhaps the light at the end of the tunnel – oncoming freight train though it may be – actually is a ray of hope, after all.

One day [Joseph] went into the house to attend to his duties, and none of the household servants was inside. [Potipher’s wife] caught him by his cloak and said, “Come to bed with me!” But he left his cloak in her hand and ran out of the house. She kept his cloak beside her until his master came home. Then she told him this story: “That Hebrew slave you brought us came to me to make sport of me. But as soon as I screamed for help, he left his cloak beside me and ran out of the house.” When his master heard the story his wife told him, saying, “This is how your slave treated me,” he burned with anger. Joseph’s master took him and put him in prison, the place where the king’s prisoners were confined. (Genesis 39: 11-20)

I think if I was Joseph, I might never wear another coat again.

First his brothers take his prized “coat of many colors,” dip it in goat’s blood, and present it as circumstantial evidence to convince their father that Joseph was killed by wild beasts. Then Potipher’s wife does essentially the same thing, using his cloak to weave credibility into her fabricated story.

It’s enough to make you think Joseph would have been better off facing the elements and shivering his way through life. At least that way, his accusers wouldn’t have any of his garments to support their lies.

Or perhaps he could just take a cue from Greg Kirksey and try the sweater vest look, going with something not as easily removed.

But has that ever happened to you? Have you ever been on the receiving end of someone spreading falsehoods about you? Have you ever been at the center of the rumor mill, with people gossiping left and right? Has anyone ever tried to take a little circumstantial evidence (Joseph was in the house) and spin it into something it wasn’t (but he didn’t go to bed with her)?

Have you ever been accused of something you flat out didn’t do?

Most of us have had that experience, at one point or another. So what do you do when you’re in the midst of a tempest of lies? How do you respond when you’ve done the right thing, but it inexplicably produces the wrong results?

In a word, you persevere. You maintain your composure. Which is another way of saying you continue to do the right thing, regardless of the results.

The natural response, of course, is to want to fight back. You want to plot a way to get even, to do the same thing to them that’s been done to you. Perhaps you even feel what you consider to be “righteous anger” – because, after all, what happened to you was totally unjust and completely unfair.

But look at it this way: You’re not in charge of other people’s actions. You never have been. You never will be. You have no control over their behavior. You’d be more likely to grasp the wind in your fist, then to stop the rumor mill from churning out gossip. And stooping to their level in response, using the same tactics to get even, is … well, stooping to their level. It certainly won’t help you through the trial you’re facing.

What you can control is your own response, your own behavior. When God allows a trial to come your way that’s unfair and unjust, and you choose to persevere – to continue to do the right thing and trust the Lord with the results – you’ll suddenly find yourself in very good company. Or as the Apostle Peter put it:

“For you have been called for this purpose, since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example for you to follow in His steps… while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously.” (I Peter 2: 21-23)

Imagine yourself in the midst of one of those little tests that come our way on a daily basis. Not the big stuff – just something small, seemingly insignificant. Like, for example, when you’re on a diet and you think “just a few potato chips won’t hurt anything” … until before you know it, you’ve polished off the whole bag while watching a favorite TV show. That kind of test.

So here’s my question: What’s your thought process, when you’ve had a setback like that? Are you one of those who says, “Well, all is lost anyways, so I might as well go from the potato chips to that ice cream in the freezer?” Or are you the type who thinks, “Wait a minute … time out! That type of behavior is not going to get me where I want to go?”

How you answer that question will tell you a lot about the direction you’re headed in life.

My experience in working with people tells me that those who have an “all or nothing” approach – who think “if things aren’t working out perfectly, then what’s the use in even trying” – are the ones who are most likely to lose their bearings as they make their way through life.

Honestly, that could easily have been Joseph’s mindset when he was tempted by Potipher’s wife. After all, what did he have to lose? He had barely escaped being murdered by his own brothers. He was a slave in a foreign country, living a life that had been reduced to doing the bidding of his master. He could easily have succumbed to the “all is lost … so why not live in the moment” thought process.

But you’ve been there too, right? What’s a few more potato chips … or a little more credit card debt … or that questionable deduction on your taxes? You begin to think “what do I have to lose, at this point in the game?”

The fact of the matter is, you have the same thing to lose that Joseph did: Your future. No matter how bleak it may appear at the moment.

And it’s not just your future, either. Some – not all, but some – of the choices you make now will have a ripple effect throughout the generations of your family, weaving the heritage you’ll pass along to your children and grandchildren.

“All or nothing” thinking is incredibly myopic. It can’t see beyond the current situation. It wants instant gratification, with little regard for the consequences. It lives in the here and now, with no thought for tomorrow. And – this is important – it invariably starts with the little things, and progresses on to the bigger tests.

Those who are moving toward their destiny have learned to leave that mindset behind them. When they have a setback, they don’t throw in the towel. They may lose a battle here and there, but not the entire war. They turn their losses into lessons, and resolve to move forward once more.

Because here’s what they know: There’s a lot of wide-open space between “all” and “nothing.” And it’s in that space where our destiny – perhaps, like Joseph, more incredible than we could ever imagine – is formed.

As she spoke to Joseph day after day, he did not listen to her to lie beside her or be with her. Now it happened one day that he went into the house to do his work, and none of the men of the household was there inside. She caught him by his garment, saying, “Lie with me!” And he left his garment in her hand and fled, and went outside. (Genesis 39:10-12)

It always starts with a voice. Sometimes, as in Joseph’s case, it’s another person speaking, making an offer that’s hard to refuse.

But more often than not, it’s the voice inside your own head. You know the one I’m talking about – it whispers things like “just this once,” “nobody will ever find out,” “what you do online is anonymous.”

Hearing the voice is not the problem. That’s just part of being human. It comes with the territory of living in a fallen world.

Listening to the voice is another matter. It’s when we go from hearing to listening that we cross the line, moving in a dangerous direction with consequences we can’t fully fathom, pitfalls we don’t clearly see.

What’s the difference? Hearing is passive. It’s all the information that bombards us on a daily basis, from a multitude of sources. Frankly, we don’t have much control over what comes our way, from other people or the culture at large.

Listening, on the other hand, is active. It’s pausing to focus on what you’re hearing. It’s taking that second look. It’s clicking the link in that unsolicited email. It’s the beginning stages of an action plan, those first thoughts about how you might actually pull it off without getting caught.

So how do you avoid the slide? What do you do when the voice of temptation tells you to “just close the door and go online?” When the voice says “go ahead and linger in his/her presence, it’s just harmless flirting?”

You do exactly what Joseph did. You flee. You get out of there. You physically remove yourself from the situation – the person, the computer, the magazine rack, whatever it is that’s threatening to capture your focus and attention.

You’ll be amazed how that one simple action – rapidly changing your environment, in the face of temptation – will also bring a change of perspective. Once you’ve removed yourself from the fog of the situation, your judgment will clear and your character will shine. You’ll be able to see your destiny once more.

It worked for Joseph, and it will work for you. It’s pure, made simple.

Now Joseph was handsome in form and appearance. It came about after these events that his master’s wife looked with desire at Joseph, and she said, “Lie with me.” But he refused and said to his master’s wife, “Behold, with me here, my master does not concern himself with anything in the house, and he has put all that he owns in my charge. There is no one greater in this house than I, and he has withheld nothing from me except you, because you are his wife. How then could I do this great evil and sin against God?” (Genesis 39: 6-9)

When everything that once defined you has been stripped away, what do you have left?

Thousands of people across the country are facing that very question. Their jobs have vanished. Their savings are gone. What they once took for granted – considered solid and foundational – has been replaced by turmoil and upheaval, until they’re left with more questions than answers, trying to navigate through territory both strange and unfamiliar.

Which, I suspect, must have been exactly the way Joseph felt as a slave in Egypt. And then some.

Nobody likes a test – not a student in a classroom, not a worker facing layoffs. If we’re honest, we’d all prefer to stroll along through life without having to endure any undue challenges. Especially since we tend to feel so vulnerable when a time of testing comes.

But it’s in the crucible of being tested that we discover who we are, what we’re made of. It’s the test that reveals our character.

We don’t talk a lot about character today – not like the generation before us did – but we should. Our culture tends to focus on ability – the extraordinary skills that allow some to shine in certain settings. But our fascination with ability creates a problem: Sometimes a man’s ability will take him to a place where his character cannot sustain him.

A simple definition for character is “who you are when no one is looking.” It seems to me that our tendency to focus on ability – without a corresponding emphasis on character – leads to nothing but trouble. When the prevailing wisdom becomes “everyone else is doing it,” ability gets disconnected from character, often with disastrous results. Just ask anyone affected by the mess on Wall Street.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, your character is meant to shine in the most difficult of circumstances – in spite of whatever abilities you may or may not possess. A test becomes an opportunity to reveal who you really are, stripped of all the external props. Because the truth is, God will not allow you to step into your destiny until your character can support it.

Take another look at the Scripture cited above. When Joseph’s test came – when it was only him and her, alone, with no one else around – Joseph knew that wasn’t the complete story. He knew the Lord was always watching, and his response reveals his character. It wasn’t just “how could I do this to Potipher?” It was “how could I do this against God?”

That test you’re facing right now? The one you think nobody will notice, no one will ever find out about? Maybe – perhaps – it’s the gateway to a destiny that’s more incredible than you can possibly imagine.

But moving toward that destiny would, of course, require you to actually pass the test. It would require that you hold up under the pressure, regardless of the consequences. It would mean that you prove – just like Joseph – that no matter how difficult the circumstances, or how challenging the situation, your values stay true.

It would mean, in other words, that your character is big enough to match your destiny.

“The Lord was with Joseph, so he became a successful man.” (Genesis 39:2)

Last week we followed Joseph down to Egypt, where he was sold as a slave to the captain of Pharaoh’s bodyguard. As we learned, Joseph’s success was based on five simple words: The Lord was with Joseph.

Some see those words and think they’re only for heroes from the Bible, or for someone they think of as “super spiritual,” like Billy Graham. But have you ever considered that God wants you to prosper, too? That He wants to be with you in the same way that He was with all of those other “giants of the faith?”

The etymology of the word “prosper” points to a definition of “pushing forward.” It carries a connotation of movement, of getting beyond those things that weigh us down and hold us back. It means we’re growing, maturing, learning from the lessons we encounter along the way.

It’s not hard to imagine that God wants His children to push forward, to thrive and advance in every area of their life. What’s more of a stretch for many – where the rubber hits the road, if you will – is what’s required of us, in order to make that happen. If the secret to prospering is the presence of the Lord, then the question becomes: How do I pursue His presence?

The answer is something we tend to chaff under. After all, we live in a culture where we like to think we’re free to do whatever we want, as long as it doesn’t infringe upon another person’s rights. We’re not big on someone else telling us what to do.

But the Kingdom of God is not a democracy. We don’t get a vote. Our choices are narrowed down to two: Either we choose to obey God’s Word, or we rebel and go our own way.

The key to the presence of the Lord is contained in that one word: Obey. Our obedience opens the door to God’s active involvement in our lives, in a way that allows us to push forward, no matter what.

And it’s not just an external obedience, the kind our kids sometimes give when they roll their eyes and reluctantly do what we ask them to, even though we know their heart isn’t in it. Showing up for a church service somewhere this weekend, “because that’s what you’re supposed to do on Easter,” won’t do a bit of good if you’re just going through the motions. As the Scripture reminds us, “man looks on the outward appearance, but God sees the heart.” God looks at our inward motivation, not just our outward movement.

But stop and think about the reward for an obedient life. No matter what confronts you, what obstacles you face, you can rest in the assurance that God is with you. It doesn’t matter where you are, or what you’re doing. You could find yourself in the most dire circumstances – a slave in Egypt, if you will – and still be successful!

Easter weekend is a great time to think about the direction your life is headed. Maybe you’re someone who’s been chasing success – accolades at work, that advanced degree, what you thought would make you happy – only to find, having achieved it, that you’re still frustrated and empty inside.

Perhaps it’s time to take a new look at what it takes – and what it means – to prosper and be successful.

Now Joseph had been taken down to Egypt; and Potiphar, an Egyptian officer of Pharaoh, the captain of the bodyguard, bought him from the Ishmaelites, who had taken him down there. The LORD was with Joseph, so he became a successful man. And he was in the house of his master, the Egyptian. Now his master saw that the LORD was with him and how the LORD caused all that he did to prosper in his hand. (Genesis 39:1-3)

What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?

It’s a question worth asking. How would your life be different, if you knew that – no matter what your circumstances – you were going to succeed at whatever task was set before you?

Do you think your employer might treat you differently? Would the team you lead at work view you with a newfound respect? Would you see a new person staring back at you from the mirror?

Most of us would enthusiastically pursue a life like that. Prosperity at every turn? Success that overflows? Sign me up!

Ahh, but there’s a catch: You don’t actually get to own anything. It all belongs to someone else. You simply get to be the guardian, the trustee, the steward.

Still interested?

That’s the rub, isn’t it? We want the prosperity, but with no strings attached. We want to be successful – but on our own terms, according to our own definition. After all, isn’t that the American dream?

Seems to me that today’s news is full of examples of that kind of “prosperity” – built on false assumptions and unchecked greed, a house of cards that, of necessity, fell in on itself.

But there’s another, better path toward success and prosperity. It’s the one Joseph pursued, after being tested by pride and the pit. It’s a path that inseparably links prospering to the presence of the Lord – where you see yourself as steward instead of owner, a river that flows blessing to others rather than a stagnant pool unto yourself.

After being sold into slavery by his brothers, it’s hard to imagine that Joseph had any of the old “swagger” to his walk. It’s safe to assume that the pride he once felt was long gone. As the Scripture tells us, “he was in the house of his master” – not exactly a position that would fuel any self-aggrandizing vision when he looked in the mirror.

But that’s the point exactly. Released from the toxic waste of self-absorption, Joseph was free to focus on the main thing: The presence of the Lord. Whatever followed was simply an opportunity to prove his faithfulness, to allow God’s favor to flow through his life until it blessed everyone around him.

Too often we think of success as something material, the sum of the possessions we acquire. We see prosperity in strictly financial terms, as if the balance in our bank account is the best measure of it. We act as though all the stuff with which we surround ourselves will somehow prove our worth, and in the process make us happy.

But the fact is, we never own it in the first place. As the old saying goes, you can’t take it with you. We’re all stewards “in the house of our master,” whether we want to admit it or not.

Far better, it seems to me, to let Joseph’s life – at the time a slave who owned nothing, not even his freedom – be our simple definition of success:

“The Lord was with Joseph, so he became a successful man.”

“And Reuben said to them, ‘Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit which is in the wilderness, and do not lay a hand on him’—that he might deliver him out of their hands, and bring him back to his father.” (Genesis 37:22)

Before we move on, and follow Joseph through a whole series of tests – ten in all, each packed with lessons applicable to our own lives – it’s worth taking a look at how we get out of the pit.

The pit can make you desperate. The walls have literally closed in around you. As I wrote last week, when you’re in the pit, the options are few.

I’m always intrigued by the strategies people employ, to try and free themselves from the pit. Some want to pretend like they’re not there – as if they can just close their eyes and click their ruby slippers together three times, and magically wake up in a new place. That may work in the movies, but not so much in real life.

Others reach out for what they think will save them. They redouble their efforts at work, thinking that with a little more discipline, they can pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. Or they become convinced that more education is the answer. If they can just get that elusive degree, they’ll finally be free from the pit and set for life. Some go for the political solution, believing that getting the right person elected to office will turn things around, and make everything fine again.

There’s nothing wrong with hard work, advanced education, or participating in the political process. All of those are noble pursuits. It’s just that they won’t rescue you from the pit. You’ll be smarter and more diligent, perhaps, and actively involved in your community. But you’ll still be in the same place where you started. Because the fact is, you’re not going to get out of the pit by your own efforts.

When Joseph needed help, he found a most unlikely ally. If anyone in the family should have possessed the prized “coat of many colors,” it would have been Reuben. He was, after all, the first-born son of his father, the one who – by all rights and customs of the day – deserved to be treated as the favored one, the one who got a double share of the inheritance, along with the honor that accompanied every first-born son. If any of the brothers had a right to be put off by Joseph, Reuben was the prime candidate.

Instead, he laid aside those rights, and set about with a plan to rescue Joseph from the pit. Take another look at that verse from Genesis, quoted above. Reuben had one goal, as the situation with Joseph and his brothers rapidly escalated: “That he might deliver him out of their hands, and bring him back to his father.”

There’s another first-born Son who has the same goal in mind for you. He, too, laid aside His rights. He, too, has a plan to deliver you from the hands of your enemy. He, too, wants nothing more than to bring you back to the Father.

Maybe you feel like you’re so far down, so deep in the pit and removed from God, that Jesus would be a most unlikely ally for you right now. But nothing could be further from the truth! If the Gospel is clear about anything, it’s clear about this: Jesus came to save those who understand that they are helpless to rescue themselves.

But don’t just take my word for it. Here’s how Jesus Himself put it:

And He said to them, “What man is there among you who has a sheep, and if it falls into a pit on the Sabbath, will he not take hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable then is a man than a sheep!” (Matthew 12:11-12)

When we’re in the pit – and, just like Joseph, we all get a turn there, at some point in life – our first inclination is to ask “why me?” What did I do to deserve this? Why can’t I just learn whatever lesson I need to learn, without having to endure such hardship and misery?

One major reason is this: The pit brings clarity and focus to our lives.

During the good times, we tend to cruise along without giving a second thought to what’s really important. In spite of our best intentions, we get distracted and busy, consumed by the smorgasbord of choices in front of us. Life rushes by at a relentless pace, leaving us little time to stop and catch our breath, much less contemplate the significance behind why we do what we do.

But in the pit, the distractions are few. The choices have been whittled away, narrowed down, until they’re reduced to the essence of our meaning, the purpose of our life. In the pit, we’re forced to consider the deeper issues, the ones that lurk beneath the surface.

A few days ago, I caught a report on the news about the whole Bernard Madoff scheme. The reporter was interviewing one of the people who had fallen victim to it. There’s little doubt that someone who just lost their entire life’s savings in a massive fraud would describe the experience as “being in the pit.” But I found myself thoroughly impressed by this man’s response to the reporter’s questions. With a tear in his eye and his wife by his side, he looked directly at the camera and said, “Look. Madoff may have taken my money, every penny I had saved throughout my entire life. But even he can’t touch the things that are most important to me.” And then he turned and kissed his wife on the cheek.

More likely than not, the man felt that way about his wife before he even knew the name “Bernie Madoff.” But I couldn’t help wondering how long it had been since he expressed his sentiment in such a public way, with such clarity and focus and conviction.

For the believer, the purpose of the pit puts even more at stake. It helps us cut to the chase. In the pit, we discover whether we’re self-reliant or God-reliant. We come face to face with the all-important question: Do difficult times drive us toward God, or away from Him?

Or as Hudson Taylor – founder of the China Inland Mission, a man who knew all too well what it was like to face great difficulties – said it:

“It does not matter how great the pressure is, it matters only where the pressure lies – whether it comes between you and God, or whether it presses you closer to His heart.”