Soon a group of travelers approached—a caravan of Ishmaelites on their way to Egypt with merchandise. Judah now suggested that they sell their brother instead of leaving him to die. While he would be effectively put out of their way, they would remain clear of his blood, “for,” he urged, “he is our brother and our flesh.” All agreed, and Joseph was quickly pulled up out of the pit.
As he saw the merchants, the dreadful truth flashed upon him. To become a slave was more to be feared than death. In an agony of terror he appealed to one and another of his brothers, but in vain. Some were moved with pity, but all felt that they had now gone too far to retreat. Joseph would report them to their father. Steeling their hearts against his pleas, they delivered him into the hands of the heathen traders. The caravan moved on and was soon out of sight.
Reuben returned to the pit, but Joseph was not there. When he learned what had happened to Joseph he was persuaded to go along with the attempt to conceal their guilt. Having killed a young goat, they dipped Joseph’s coat in its blood and took it to their father, telling him that they had found it in the fields. “Do you know,” they said, “whether it is your son’s tunic or not?” They were not prepared for the heart-rending anguish, the utter and unrestrained grief, that they were compelled to witness. “It is my son’s tunic,” said Jacob. “A wild beast has devoured him. Without doubt Joseph is torn to pieces.” His sons and daughters tried to comfort him, but he “tore his clothes, put sackcloth on his waist, and mourned for his son many days.” “I shall go down into the grave to my son in mourning,” was his despairing cry.
The young men, terrified at what they had done, yet dreading their father’s condemnation, still kept quiet about their guilt, which even to themselves seemed very great.
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