Now the famine was still severe in the land. So when they had eaten all the grain they had brought from Egypt, their father said to them, “Go back and buy us a little more food.” But Judah said to him, “The man warned us solemnly, ‘You will not see my face again unless your brother is with you.’ If you will send our brother along with us, we will go down and buy food for you. But if you will not send him, we will not go down, because the man said to us, ‘You will not see my face again unless your brother is with you.’ ” Israel asked, “Why did you bring this trouble on me by telling the man you had another brother?”  They replied, “The man questioned us closely about ourselves and our family. ‘Is your father still living?’ he asked us. ‘Do you have another brother?’ We simply answered his questions. How were we to know he would say, ‘Bring your brother down here’?” Then Judah said to Israel his father, “Send the boy along with me and we will go at once, so that we and you and our children may live and not die. I myself will guarantee his safety; you can hold me personally responsible for him. If I do not bring him back to you and set him here before you, I will bear the blame before you all my life. As it is, if we had not delayed, we could have gone and returned twice.” Then their father Israel said to them, “If it must be, then do this: Put some of the best products of the land in your bags and take them down to the man as a gift—a little balm and a little honey, some spices and myrrh, some pistachio nuts and almonds. Take double the amount of silver with you, for you must return the silver that was put back into the mouths of your sacks. Perhaps it was a mistake. Take your brother also and go back to the man at once. And may God Almighty grant you mercy before the man so that he will let your other brother and Benjamin come back with you. As for me, if I am bereaved, I am bereaved.” So the men took the gifts and double the amount of silver, and Benjamin also. They hurried down to Egypt and presented themselves to Joseph.

—Genesis 43:1-15 (TNIV)

You have to love Jacob. Ever the deceiver. Today’s iteration of it consists of him complaining to his sons and chastising them for telling Joseph the truth about themselves and their family (read Genesis 41-42 for context). Apparently Jacob also taught his sons well because we learned yesterday that they were offended that Joseph had accused them of being spies. They protested that they were honest men. Uh-huh. The same honest men that were offended by Joseph’s dream and wanted to kill him? The same honest men who indeed threw him into a well and then sold him into slavery and then lied to their father about it? Yes indeed! Those honest men!

Now before we get all uppity and self-indignant over Jacob and Joseph’s brothers, I would suggest that we are just like them. For example, have you ever thought to yourself that you really aren’t all that bad? You know. After all, you probably aren’t a murderer. You haven’t sold anybody into slavery. You are likely not a terrorist or a pathological liar or an anti-social personality. The most you’ve probably done pales in comparison to all the heinous crimes we read about every day in the news.

And that’s just the point. When we start thinking like this, and every one of us has done so to one degree or another, we are thinking just like Jacob and his sons. Our human pride cannot bear the thought that we are not worthy of God’s love or deserve it. We might even be repulsed at the notion that God had to save us from our sins on the cross, that we can’t save ourselves. But the latter is true. The Bible reminds us that no one is righteous in God’s sight. All have sinned and sin leads to death. There are no exceptions except one man, Jesus of Nazareth.

Lent is a season where we are to examine ourselves and work to put to death these kinds of delusions. Today, ask God to show your pride clearly to you and then ask him to help you put it to death. This is not a quick, easy, or pleasant thing to do, but it is essential if you ever hope to appropriate the Good News of Jesus Christ and enjoy the kind of relationship with God he created you to have.

If you say: “Show me your God,” I will say to you: “Show me what kind of person you are, and I will show you my God.” Show me then whether the eyes of your mind can see, and the ears of your heart hear. God is seen by those who have the capacity to see him, provided that they keep the eyes of their mind open. All have eyes, but some have eyes that are shrouded in darkness, unable to see the light of the sun. Because the blind cannot see it, it does not follow that the sun does not shine. The blind must trace the cause back to themselves and their eyes. In the same way, you have eyes in your mind that are shrouded in darkness because of your sins and evil deeds.

But if you will you can be healed. Hand yourself over to the doctor, who will open the eyes of your mind and heart. Who is to be the doctor? It is God, who heals and gives life through his Word [Jesus] and wisdom.

—Theophilus, Bishop of Antioch, To Autolycus

Your entire life and all the things you use during life should seem to you as a hotel might seem to a traveler. It should certainly not be treated as a place for settling down. You may have covered a part of your journey but there is still some traveling to do.

—Augustine, Commentary on Psalm 34

Here is the eternal perspective made manifest. Do you have it?

O you who behold all things, we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed; blot out our transgressions, be merciful to us sinners and grant that our names may be found written in the book of life, for the sake of Christ Jesus our Savior. Amen.

Think how great a thing it is to be persuaded and have complete confidence that God is able not only to set an ungodly man free from punishment but also to make him righteous and count him worthy to receive these immortal honors.

—Chrysostom, Homilies on Romans 8

My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar nor a confession of love. Nor is it a trivial reckoning of a small tradesman: Give me and I shall give you. My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general: This is what I did today, this is how I fought to save the entire battle in my own sector, these are the obstacles I found, this is how I plan to fight tomorrow.

My God and I are horsemen galloping in the burning sun or under drizzling rain. Pale, starving, but unsubdued, we ride and we converse. “Leader!” I cry. He turns his face toward me, and I shudder to confront his anguish.

Our love for each other is rough and ready, we sit at the same table, we drink the same wine in this low tavern of life.

—Nikos Kazantzakis, The Saviors of God: Spiritual Exercises

I used to balk at militaristic language used to describe the Christian life. No more. That was because I failed to see that living a Christian life is a struggle and certainly impossible without God’s help. There are so many things at war with us: our fallen nature, the presence of an active Evil in this world, those actively opposed to Christianity and any who call themselves Christian.

Did you notice the stark terms Kazantzakis uses to describe his intimate relationship with God? Did you also notice that without that relationship, Kazantzakis infers that his would be a hopeless lot? He understands who is the general and who is the soldier. He knows the Source of his power to wage war against evil and brokenness. He gets it.

Living faithful Christian lives is difficult and a struggle. Many shy away from it because of this fact. But it has been suggested that God promises great rewards later for those willing to struggle first; whereas the Evil One promises great rewards now, only to be followed by ruination afterward. I choose to trust in God’s promise and faithfulness because I have seen it in the history of his people and in my own life. What about you?