Healing Before Fruitfulness: Joseph’s Sons and a Theology of Restoration

The Joseph narrative (Gen. 37–50) presents one of the Hebrew Bible’s most sustained reflections on suffering, providence, and restoration. Betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery, Joseph experiences prolonged affliction through servitude, false accusation, and imprisonment before his elevation to authority in Egypt. This narrative arc is not merely biographical but theological, portraying divine sovereignty at work within, rather than apart from, human injustice.

A critical but often underexamined moment occurs prior to Joseph’s reconciliation with his brothers: the naming of his sons, Manasseh and Ephraim (Gen. 41:50–52). In the Hebrew Bible, naming frequently functions as a theological interpretation of lived experience, encoding meaning, memory, and confession. The narrator’s explicit preservation of Joseph’s naming explanations signals their interpretive importance.

Joseph names his firstborn Manasseh (מְנַשֶּׁה), declaring, “For God has made me forget (nashani) all my hardship and all my father’s house” (Gen. 41:51). The Hebrew root נשה (nashah), often translated “to forget,” does not imply amnesia or repression. Rather, within biblical and rabbinic usage, it conveys release from the dominating power of memory. Joseph’s past is not erased; it is rendered non-determinative. Rabbinic commentators emphasize that Joseph continues to remember his family and heritage, indicating that “forgetting” here refers to healing rather than denial.¹ This is a foreshadowing of a later theme of God holding no record of wrongs as an indicator of the way that His followers should also live.

Joseph’s second son is named Ephraim (אֶפְרָיִם), derived from the root פרה (parah, “to be fruitful”), accompanied by the declaration, “For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction” (Gen. 41:52). Notably, Egypt is still described as ’erets ‘onyi—“the land of my suffering.” Fruitfulness does not follow removal from affliction but emerges within it. The text thus resists any simplistic theology in which blessing is contingent upon the absence of suffering. It is a direct correlation to the Yahweh identifying Himself differently from the “other” ancient “gods” that functioned solely on the retribution principle.

The sequence of these names is theologically decisive. Healing (Manasseh) precedes fruitfulness (Ephraim), and both occur prior to forgiveness and reconciliation with Joseph’s brothers (Gen. 42–45). The narrative therefore distinguishes between inner restoration and relational restoration. While reconciliation ultimately requires repentance, truth-telling, and transformation on the part of the offenders, healing is portrayed as a divine act that does not depend upon the moral readiness of others. God’s restorative work in Joseph begins while the relational rupture remains unresolved.

This narrative logic challenges the assumption that closure or apology is a prerequisite for healing. Joseph’s story suggests instead that divine healing reorders the self, freeing one from the formative power of trauma and making space for generativity. Reconciliation, when it comes, is no longer a desperate need but a fruit of a healed identity.

Canonical Resonances: New Testament and Revelation

This pattern—healing preceding fruitfulness and reconciliation—finds resonance within the New Testament. Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28 (“Come to me… and I will give you rest”) addresses interior restoration prior to the resolution of external conflict. Likewise, Paul’s theology of suffering in Romans 5:3–5 traces a movement from affliction to endurance, character, and hope—an internal transformation that precedes eschatological vindication.

In Revelation, similar logic governs the experience of the faithful. The saints are depicted as conquering (nikaō) not by escaping suffering but by faithful endurance within it (Rev. 12:11). The promises to the churches repeatedly emphasize fruitfulness, reigning, and restored vocation as outcomes of perseverance rather than prerequisites for divine favor (Rev. 2–3). Healing, symbolized by access to the tree of life and the wiping away of tears (Rev. 22:1–5; 21:4), is ultimately God’s work, accomplished even while injustice and opposition persist.

Within this broader canonical framework, Manasseh and Ephraim function as typological witnesses to a theology of restoration in which God heals before resolving every relational or historical wrong.

Healing is not the end of the story, but it is the condition that makes genuine fruitfulness—and ultimately reconciliation—possible.

Second Temple Jewish Parallels: Healing, Memory, and Fruitfulness in Exile

Second Temple Jewish literature provides important conceptual parallels to the pattern evident in Joseph’s naming of Manasseh and Ephraim, particularly with respect to memory, healing, and divine fruitfulness amid unresolved exile. These texts frequently wrestle with the problem of how God restores individuals and communities before historical or political reconciliation is complete.

In several Second Temple sources, remembering and forgetting function not as opposites but as theological tensions. Sirach, for example, acknowledges that past wounds are neither erased nor ignored, yet insists that wisdom enables one to live fruitfully without being governed by injury (Sir. 30:21–25). Here, healing is portrayed as an interior reordering that precedes external change—a conceptual parallel to Manasseh’s role as release from suffering’s formative power.

Similarly, the Wisdom of Solomon frames affliction as the context in which divine fruitfulness is cultivated rather than negated. The righteous are described as disciplined through suffering so that they might bear enduring fruit (Wis. 3:1–9), a logic that closely mirrors Ephraim’s naming as fruitfulness within the land of affliction. Vindication is future-oriented, but transformation occurs in the present.

The Dead Sea Scrolls further reinforce this pattern. In the Hodayot (Thanksgiving Hymns), the speaker repeatedly testifies to divine healing and restoration of the inner person while remaining socially marginalized and eschatologically unresolved (1QHᵃ). Healing precedes deliverance; identity is stabilized by God before historical redemption is realized. This reflects a theology in which God’s restorative work is not delayed until covenantal enemies are defeated or exile is reversed.

Of particular relevance is the Second Temple preoccupation with Joseph as a paradigmatic righteous sufferer. In works such as Joseph and Aseneth and later expansions of the Joseph tradition, Joseph is portrayed as morally transformed and divinely favored long before reconciliation with his brothers occurs. His interior faithfulness and divine blessing function independently of familial restoration, reinforcing the distinction between personal healing and relational reconciliation.

Moreover, Second Temple Israel broadly understood exile as an ongoing condition—even after the return from Babylon. Healing and fruitfulness were therefore conceptualized as provisional, anticipatory realities rather than final resolutions. This framework illuminates the theological significance of Manasseh and Ephraim: Joseph embodies a form of restored life that flourishes prior to—and apart from—the full repair of covenantal relationships.

Within this Second Temple horizon, Joseph’s sons function not merely as narrative details but as symbolic markers of how God restores the faithful amid incomplete redemption. Healing reorients memory; fruitfulness establishes vocation; reconciliation, when it comes, is a subsequent and contingent grace rather than the precondition of wholeness.

Conclusion

Joseph’s story reminds us that God’s work in our lives is often deeper—and earlier—than we expect. Long before reconciliation arrived, long before the family wounds were reopened and named, God had already begun healing Joseph’s heart. Manasseh testifies that God can loosen the grip of pain that once defined us. Ephraim bears witness that fruitfulness can emerge even in places we would never choose.

This matters for us because many of us are waiting. Waiting for an apology. Waiting for understanding. Waiting for relationships to be repaired. Joseph’s life gently but firmly tells us that healing does not have to wait. God is not constrained by unfinished stories or unresolved conflict. He is able to restore the inner life even when the outer circumstances remain broken.

That does not diminish the value of forgiveness or reconciliation—Scripture still calls us toward both. But it does free us from believing that our wholeness depends on someone else’s repentance. Healing is God’s gift, not the reward of closure.

So the invitation is simple and hopeful: bring the wound to God. Let Him name it, tend it, and release its power over you. Fruitfulness will come in time. But healing, as Joseph’s sons remind us, can begin now—even before the story is finished.


Footnote-Style References

  1. Rabbinic tradition: See Genesis Rabbah 91:1, which emphasizes that Joseph’s “forgetting” does not negate memory of his father or covenantal identity, but reflects relief from suffering’s grip.
  2. Lexical: Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT), s.v. “נשה,” noting semantic range including release and neglect rather than cognitive loss.
  3. Narrative theology: Walter Brueggemann, Genesis (Interpretation Commentary; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1982), 331–334.
  4. Suffering and fruitfulness: Nahum M. Sarna, Genesis (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1989), 286–288.
  5. Naming as theological act: Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 47–62.
  6. Canonical resonance: Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: CUP, 1993), 84–102.
  7. Sirach: Ben Sira 30:21–25; see Michael W. Duggan, Sirach (New Collegeville Bible Commentary; Liturgical Press, 2016).
  8. Wisdom of Solomon: Wis. 3:1–9; see John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age (Westminster John Knox, 1997).
  9. Dead Sea Scrolls: Hodayot (1QHᵃ); see Carol A. Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space (Brill, 2004).
  10. Joseph traditions: Joseph and Aseneth; see Ross Shepard Kraemer, When Aseneth Met Joseph (Oxford University Press, 1998).
  11. Exile as ongoing condition: N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Fortress, 1992), 268–272 (used here for Second Temple Jewish worldview rather than NT theology).

JUSTICE

Justice and Righteousness – In a sense of Old Testament sovereignty, YHWH exhibited himself differently than the other “gods” the people of Israel were formerly aware of in Egypt. YHWH was concerned with a covenant partnership between Him and His chosen people that would be his ambassadors, and it was much established on the notion of two things – Justice and Righteousness. The Hebrew for righteousness is the word ṣedeq which typically takes a gloss of an ethical, moral standard based on the nature and will of God. In other words, the Lord is righteous.1 Justice is the word mišpāṭ. It is the divine governance of the created order. The way that God intended things to operate and called – TOV.

You may remember that the  priestly breastplate or breastpiece of judgment (Hebrew: חֹשֶׁן ḥōšen) was a sacred breastplate worn by the High Priest of the Israelites, according to the Book of Exodus. In the biblical account, the breastplate is termed the breastplate of judgment (Hebrew: חֹשֶׁן מִשְׁפָּט ḥōšen mišpāṭ – Exodus 28:15), because the Urim and Thummim (Hebrew: הָאוּרִים וְהַתֻּמִּים hāʾūrīm wəhattummīm) were placed upon it (Exodus 28:30). These elements of the breastplate are said in the Exodus verse to carry the judgment (Hebrew: מִשְׁפָּט mišpāṭ) of God concerning the Israelites at all times. According to the Talmud, the wearing of the Hoshen atoned for the sin of errors in judgment on the part of the Children of Israel. 2 So as you can see, justice was a theme tied carefully into the way that the priest represented God to the people and the people to God and “justice” played an important measure.

Mišpāṭ is to cooperate with God in bringing His order to the world.  It is to extend the Garden to the rest of creation, a task, by the way, that was given as the Prime Directive in the Genesis account.  “Let Us make mankind in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the livestock and over all the earth, and over every crawling thing that crawls on the earth.”  “Rule over” does not mean exploit.  It means to care for, to tend to, to cultivate, to nourish, to protect—it means precisely what God does and would do with His own creation.  Insofar as you bring God’s “rule” into your world, you do mišpāṭ.  Notice please that this is active involvement, not theoretical or passive contemplation of engagement.3

Exodus 34:6-7 is the key text that you are likely tired of me regurgitating. God is benevolent, compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, full of ḥesed (no English equivalent), truthful, preserving ḥesed for generations, forgiving, providing oversight; and in these features partners with us as his treasured possessions in covenant order. TOV has a good deal to play into this. In Genesis we see God using his “priests” to continue to cultivate God’s sense of order and do good. The Torah then becomes the handbook of life until Jesus comes. Living in justice and righteousness means living in devotion to the will of God committed to being a complete representative of the Creator as much as humanly possible.  The first century word for that is “agent,” and Yeshua is a full expression of what that means; He becomes the fulfillment of identity and purpose based on justice and righteousness.

There is also a sense of communal justice in the Bible, particularly for Israel.

  1. Retributive/Recompense
    This mode of justice is like the punishment/reward system in a court of law, ensuring there is recompense, repayment, or acquittal for just or unjust behavior. If you steal five dollars, you have to pay back five dollars. If you’re wrongly accused of stealing five dollars, you should not have to pay, and you should even be repaid for the trouble of being accused. Deuteronomy 25:1 – If there is a dispute between men and they go to court (lit. to the mishpat, place of justice), and the judges (Heb. shophetim) decide their case, and they declare the innocent to be in the right, and they will declare the guilty to be in the wrong.
  2. Restorative
    This mode of justice is about making sure that everyone in the community is treated fairly and given what they are due. It’s about granting people rights by changing unjust practices or laws. For example, in Deuteronomy 18:1-3, the Levites didn’t inherit land because they served all the tribes by working in the temple. And so, the other tribes were to give a tithe (one tenth) of their produce as offerings in the temple. This temple tax is called the Levites’ mishpat (“their right,” see also Deut. 21:17 “right of the firstborn”). In Israel, there was another group in their society who had unique mishpat: the quartet of the vulnerable, meaning the widow, orphan, immigrant, and the poor.

The first words: “That which is altogether just” are just two words in the Hebrew “tsedeq tsedeq.”  The same word is repeated twice.  In Semitic languages when a word is repeated it usually indicates that the word is to be intensified or emphasized. 5

We don’t live under communal Israel and their laws though. So, what do we make of all this? I want to finish with a sense of deconstructing our modern views and what we want justice to be based on our desires of God for our life and world as compared to what the Bible presents it as. Christians demand justice so much today. People who have been offended, abused, victims of racism, etc.  They are all crying for justice. Certain politicians have been accused of sexual harassment and the victims are demanding justice.  What do they want? They want to see that person punished, resign from office, put in jail.  What is it that they saying?  The victim wants to see the perpetrator suffer as they suffered.  They want fairness, eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Is that what God is talking about as a condition to inherit what God has given you? 6  

We know this wasn’t the way of Jesus. In Matthew 5:38-39 Jesus is clear not to repay evil for evil or as it says in Deuteronomy 16:20; “tsedeq tsedeq” which could be rendered as “just justice.” 7 There is indeed the need for justice, and we should pursue justice, but we must pursue a just justice, and that isn’t ours to address but God’s and God alone. In other words, justice isn’t for you… let it go and let the Lord heal. Perhaps occasionally we are part of the agents of that justice, but more often not.

Notice that God’s judgment is in the positive. It’s not brimstone and fire. He judges with equity; He judges in righteousness and in His faithfulness. He judges to SAVE the humble of the earth. Interesting that we often associate God’s judgement with God’s wrath. It is a common human desire to let God handle our enemies with vengeance. Sometimes life doesn’t seem fair when horrible people seem to have great success in life. We want God to judge the wicked in anger. Vengeance is a powerful human desire. But the answer to vengeance is vindication, not judgement. “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord… for YHWH will vindicate His people” (paraphrased from Deut. 32:35-36). To vindicate (God acting in judgement) is a completely different word in the Hebrew language: יָדִ֣ין (yadin).

Covenantal commitment is a flowing stream, this Biblical understanding of justice should inspire us to not only critique the world as it is, but to align ourselves with that which is Godly in the universe, working towards the day when all human beings are nurtured, respected, and be reclaimed to the identify that God has purposed them for.

Ironically, perhaps your need for retributive justice around you is exactly what is holding you back from the kind of relentless covenant partnership that God has destined you for. Perhaps today is the day you simply let God be the judge. Let God be the agent of restoration and use you as His hands and feet to physically manifest grace, love, compassion, and mercy which means healing.

  1. Stigers, H. G. (1999). 1879 צָדֵק. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament(electronic ed., p. 752). Moody Press. ↩︎
  2. Zevachim (Hebrew: זְבָחִים; lit. “Sacrifices”) is the first tractate of Seder Kodashim (“Holy Things”) of the Mishnah, the Talmud and the Tosefta. This tractate discusses the topics related to the sacrificial system of the Temple in Jerusalem, namely the laws for animal and bird offerings, and the conditions which make them acceptable or not, as specified in the Torah, primarily in the book of Leviticus (Lev 1:2 and on). The tractate has fourteen chapters divided into 101 mishnayot, or paragraphs. There is a Gemara – rabbinical commentary and analysis – for this tractate in the Babylonian Talmud, and no Gemara in the Jerusalem Talmud. ↩︎
  3. @Hebrewwordstudy ↩︎
  4. https://bibleproject.com/videos/justice/ ↩︎
  5. Owens, Jonathan (2013). The Oxford Handbook of Arabic Linguistics. Oxford University Press. ISBN 978-0199344093. ↩︎
  6. https://www.chaimbentorah.com/2021/09/hebrew-word-study-just-justice-tsedeq-tsedeq-%d7%a6%d7%93%d7%a7-%d7%a6%d7%93%d7%a7/ ↩︎
  7. https://hebrewwordlessons.com/2017/11/05/justicejudgement-its-not-about-vengeance-its-about-love/ ↩︎