Previously on the chosen people.
He attacked me. This Hebrew slave lured me into sleep with me, but I screamed quick.
He went that way.
So this is how you repay my kindness.
You are my master and my friend. Have I not earned your trust by now?
I tell you I've done nothing wrong.
It's a lie.
Please, you must believe me.
You will rot in prison for the rest of your Day's Hebrew take him away.
In an instant, Joseph was taken up by the guards and thrown into the royal prison, where Pharaoh's prisoners were confide.
I am your warden. You are my prisoner.
You are nothing but the prisoner. Are we cleare.
Fever?
Would shall be favor as towards did.
The other prisoners began to rely on Joseph to speak with the warden on their behalf. At night, underneath the moonlight, the prisoners would gather around Joseph to listen to his stories about the God of his ancestors.
Joseph, I am putting you in charge of these men. I have other prisons in the city that I must get in too, so I leave these only your care. The warden slid two items across the desk, keys to the cells, and a whip with iron tipped phrase. Joseph took the keys, bowing his head in acknowledgment, but left the whip behind. As he returned to his cell, a sense of purpose welled within him. He might be a prisoner, but here in this dark place.
He would shine a light.
In the dead of night. Even in the depths of a prison, dreams with secrets only the.
Chosen can decipher.
Sdoh, my friends, from here in the Holy Land, I'm y l Extein with the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, and welcome to the Chosen people. What does it mean to dream? Images and visions dance through our minds? Often elusive and enigmatic? Are these dreams just whispers from our subconscious or they divine messages waiting for an interpreter. Now imagine a prison, not just any prison, but a place where the innocent are confined alongside the guilty. Yet even
here in the shadowy corners, dreams stir and seek meaning. Joseph, the dreamer who once saw the stars and the sheaves, becomes Joseph the interpreter mysteries. It's a transformation. This story inspired by Genesis forty invites us to stopping consider I break through the darkest cells of our lives. Does God speak in dreams even when our waking world falls apart? And perhaps most crucially, do we have the courage to believe in His plan when all else seems lost?
Two years past, Joseph, now twenty seven years old, had solidified himself as the benevolent leader over the other prisoners. His willingness to serve them and listen to their needs engendered loyalty from them. He created a system for sharing cells based on the background of the prisoners. He was able to rush food well enough so they could enjoy three meals a day. He would also care for the sick himself and use the warden's office as an infirmary
for people who were sick. Even the guards were loyal to Joseph and did all that he asked of them. Joseph was often reminded of how his brothers would tend to the flocks. The sheep needed to know they were cared for. If they felt safe, secure, and loved, they listened. Her bitter, sweet smile curled on Joseph's lips as he recalled home. Not all memories of his brothers were tainted. There had been moments of bliss, pockets of what could
have been before the coat and before the pit. Pleasant memories, however, quickly gave way to Judah's glaring face. Joseph shook himself free of the past and returned to the task at hand. It was late, and Joseph moved among the prisoners like a shepherd among his flock, offering words of comfort and acts of kindness. With each passing moment he deepened his understanding of God's heart. He handed a blanket to an older prisoner, his eyes warm with compassion.
God, bless you beg.
I heard you shivering last night and brought you another blanket.
There, old blanket's despair.
Where is this one come from?
Just take it, old man.
Your teeth chattering kept me up all night.
Oh, oh, a warm heart, young Joseph, Thank you, thank you.
Joseph wrapped the blanket around the old man and helped him lie on the wooden cot. He scanned the room once more, ensuring all was in order, before returning to his small, damp corner. He leaned his back against the jagged stone, no longer feeling its sharpness, His scars had left his body calloused near numb. Joseph would often lie awake at night, watching the moonbeams trickle through the ceiling. In those silent moments, he prayed, considering God's goodness, his
favor upon him, and dreaming of the future. He chuckled to himself, realizing that this pit had become his palace. Joseph awoke to the shout. It was coming from the entrance of the prison. It was a familiar sound. Most men who came through the doors claimed innocence. Joseph had learned to treat all men the same, for Pharaoh's word was final. He rose, stretching his aching muscles. Pain was a constant companion in the prison, and Joseph had learned
to coexist with it. Joseph was released from the communal cell to greet the new inmates. The palace guards had dragged two men in what were your crimes? Joseph had learned not to be too friendly. Immediately he would be perceived as weak and malleable. However, every prisoner would soon learn about Joseph's compassion and kindness. Nothing Joseph looked down at him. He was a portly man, balding and read with rage.
I am faras royal baker, responsible for all the bake goods within the palace. Pharaoh's men got sick after the banquet, and he accused us of poisoning them.
And what about you?
Joseph turned to the slender, slight man beside him, whose mouse like face wore a frightened stare.
I am, who was a Pharaoh's cup bearer. I was also held responsible for the incident, although I would never do anything to harm in the morning star. My family has served the great pharaohs for five generations.
Every man here claims innocence, but we're here and live as guilty men. Nonetheless, I please, and petitions mean nothing. What matters is how you live out your days here. Contribute, don't cause harm to others, and live peaceably with the gods. If you do these things, you regain a sliver of joy. Understood.
Huh, yes, sir, The guards will take you to our common area.
As the men walked off, the palace, guard gave Joseph the details on both of them.
The tall and quiet one is Pharaoh's cupbearer. He was a trusted confidante of Pharaoh.
Until the feast.
It's not clear what his motive.
Would be to pause anyone.
The loud and short one is the palace blaker.
Many of the men believed that.
He really did poison the food. Joseph nodded and noted them. Afterwards, he gave them both tasks to do within the prison. That night, Joseph knelt below the moonlight and prayed for continual favor. He prayed for patience, endurance, and strength. Despite his success in prison, the toll on his mind and soul was heavy. Fights broke out often, and caring for the sick was burdensome. Yet God's strength was upon him, preparing him for something greater, refining him in the depths
of this dark grave. The skies shifted and the night drew on. Joseph heard a stirring in the back of the cell. The baker was tossing and turning, yelling in his sleep a nightmare. Joseph approached and knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and singing a lulla by his mother once sang to him. The melody echoed off the prison wars, a soothing balm. The baker calmed, opening his eyes with a gruff sigh.
That's better.
What a h you a warden or some sort of prison your.
Nick ah neither.
I'm a fellow prisoner, but I oversee the prison for the.
Warden hough a king of wretches and wrats.
Yes, I suppose you're right.
What were you before all of this?
Many things?
A favorite son, a slave, a keeper of Partipher's house. Now well, here I am ruling this kingdom of stone and mass.
Many lives. What someone saw you?
It certainly feels that way.
The baker rolled over and groaned. His large body weighed heavily down on the jagged stone beneath him. He winced with every move, then grumpily sighed.
Good good night. I hate your majesty.
The next morning, Joseph overheard the baker and the cupbearer exchanging dreams over their meal. Joseph had done his best to avoid such babbling, since the last time he spoke of his dreams it got him sold into slavery. However, he could not quite shake a feeling of longing to engage. Joseph pretended not to listen and poured water into a basin. He heard the baker recount his nightmare.
It was horrifying and painful. I can still see it in my mind's eye, in the baskets, all of you.
It all sounded dreadful. I never thought I would sleep in this place, but then I had the most magnificent dream. I can't get it out of my head.
Joseph felt a tug on his heart to approach them. Although he said nothing at first, it was clear that their dreams, although different, were nagging at them. Each wore a long face of agitated confusion. Joseph knew the torture that came with a dream. He still woke from his sleep suspended in stars or risen above wheat bushels, as if compelled by a force other than him.
Joseph spoke, are you well, Baker, You were tossing all night even after we.
Spoke, Yes, and embarrassing as it was to be sung that to sleep like a suckling child. They must admit your presence helped. I mean, I had a dreadful nightmare and know it's important, but I don't know what it means.
I also had to dream. It's been nagging me all morning.
Tell me your dreams.
Perhaps I can interpret it for you.
Ha, So now you are a sorcerer and master of divination. And tell me, your majesty, what haven't you've done in your humorously short life.
No, no, however, I have lived long enough to meet the God of my forefathers.
All dreams belong to him. Perhaps he will interpret for you. The cupbearer cleared his throat. He began his tail, stammering at first, but gaining momentum with his words. Joseph was stricken by the way he used his hands to add to his tail.
I was in a desolate place. The ground beneath me was cracked and barren, and darkness pressed him from every side. But as I walked, something miraculous happened. A vine sprang forth out of nowhere. It was green and shimmering and vibrant against the earth, alive, hoole sing, moving towards me. Three branches grew from the vine. They assis stretched out as if reaching for me, wrapping themselves around me like
a gentle engrace. Their movements were very delicate, almost wolba, weightless, like butterflies flitting in the air.
And then there were ber blossoms, tiny fragile, breath taking blossoms. Every bloom gave way to clusters of grapes full and ripe and seemed ready to burst, each one heavy with juice, shivering like liquid juice in my hand. Suddenly Pharaoh's cup appeared, not just any cock cup, but his cup. It felt very familiar, like it had always belonged to me, like it was a part of me. Without thinking, I reached for the grapes, I plucked a cluster.
And I squeezed, and the juice it came out. It just kept coming and coming, filling the chalice, overflowing wine.
It sparkled with a sort of brilliance I can't even descry.
And then I saw, I saw him, Pharaoh, seated on his throne high above me, and the sun blazed behind him like a halo of light. I bowed low, to trembling, and I offered him the cup, and he took it and he drank it, and then he smiled. There was this moment of pure joy, so vivid, so full, and then I woke up.
Joseph's heart came alive in that moment. As the cup bearer shared his dream, he could feel the spirit of God moving within his heart and mind.
I can see on your face that you love Pharaoh, Yes, sir, here is what your dream means. The three branches of the vine represent three days. In three days time, Pharaoh will realize that you have been falsely accused.
He will lift up his head and restore you to your position. You will be filling his cup once again.
What a beautiful sentiment, if only it were to true.
Joseph placed his hand on the cupbearer's shoulder and looked intently into his eyes.
My friend, these things will come to pass. God has declared it. When you're free, I ask, will you please remember me, remember what you've seen here and mention it to Pharaoh. Recall my kindness towards you, and tell him of my gift.
What have you done to be here? Are you innocent? Are you who this is supposed to be here?
Joseph leaned back and looked up at the sun rays peeking through the ceiling.
I am a Hebrew sold into slavery by my brothers. Yet even as a slave I thrived. I'm not here for my own sins, but because of the sins of others. Although I am in this world, I do not belong to this world.
If what you say is to the true Hebrew, I will remember you when I am restored to Pharaoh.
The baker pushed the farah aside and.
Laughed, Ah, so you're a bearer of good news. Well, then let me tell you my dread, and hopefully you will have news of my freedom as well.
Come on, this is my dream.
I was on my way to Phero with three baskets of bread on my head. It was hot, and the wind was even hotter. I made a wonderful cakes, sweet breads, and all kinds of big goods. However, the birds swooped down upon me. They began pecking at the bread on top.
Soon an entire flock.
Was surrounding me. They petted the baskets, my clothes, and my eyes. I dropped the baskets and watched the birds devour the bread. What does this dream mean?
Joseph's eyes betrayed his true feelings. He was overwhelmed with grief for the baker and unable to speak. The baker sent Joseph's clent and became uneasy.
Do not hold back from me, he What does my dream mean?
Joseph fiddled with a stone in his hand and looked up at the baker.
Three baskets represent three days. Three day should pass you two would be taken out of the prison.
The baker smiled, thinking this was good news. However, Joseph continued with a tear streaming down his face, phara, well, punish.
You for what you've done.
You separate your head from your body.
Poppodoor pulled the birds to eat away flesh.
The baker looked at him silently for a long while, then, in an outburst of rage, the baker tackled Joseph to the ground and began pumbling in with his fists.
Your fool, and the nightment sad, a day sad. Take it back, Tell them you're lying.
The other prisoners ran to Joseph and pulled the baker off him. He thrashed and tugged away. Joseph looked up at him, panting with a bruised and bloody face. The Baker's shifted from fury to guilt. Joseph knew the truth, as did he. The baker returned to a spiteful stare, spat at Joseph, then scalped off. After three days, it was Pharaoh's birthday. He held a great banquet for his officials. He lifted up the heads of the chief cupbearer and
the chief baker in the presence of his officials. He restored the chief cupbearer to his position, so that he once again put the cup into Pharaoh's hand. However, the baker was taken outside the palace. The harbish eastern wind blew, and the birds flew in circles above. The baker was given to the guards and beheaded, and his head was put on a pike as a feast for the birds. However, Joseph remained in the prison for years. He waited in
his stone tomb to rise up. He suffered a great deal, but his present sufferings were not comparable to the future glory awaiting him.
Dreams, those ethereal whispers of the night drift in and out of Joseph's story. It was a dream that first led him into the abyss, the vision of sheaves and stars that stirred the envy of his brothers, casting him into the depths of betrayal and slavery in the shadowy corridors of an Egyptian prison. It seems those dreams had turned to dust. But then the dreams that once seemed like the cruel catalyst of Joseph's downfall are revealed to
actually be the blueprint for his ascent to royalty. The very gift of interpreting dreams that once brought Joseph to the lowest places is exactly what would be what helped him rise. But this time the dreams weren't Joseph's own, like they were when he told his brothers. No, it was Joseph interpreting the dreams of others, the cup bearer,
the baker, and ultimately Pharaoh himself. In interpreting the dreams of others, Joseph begins to see the arc of his own life more clearly, the hand of God moving behind the scenes, orchestrating events for a purpose beyond his understanding. And in Joseph's journey we see the fulfillment of God's convenant with our forefathers, a promise that no pit or prison can thwart. We are reminded that our struggles are not the end, but the beginning of God's greater narrative.
My Abba, my father, Abbe Riel Eckstein, was an extraordinary man, a man whose heart reached out to hundreds of thousands. As his daughter, I saw up close the depth of his compassion. Whenever we passed a homeless person, on the street, he would stop. He would pause, even as the world hurried, by offering not just money but his ear. He sought to know the person's name, this person's story, this person's pain. And in those moments, time after time again, I witnessed transformation.
Dejection turned to joy, and hearts were lifted by his genuine compassion. In today's episode of The Chosen People, we see the same spirit in Joseph's story. In that dark prison, Joseph noticed the sorrow of his fellow inmates. Why do you look so sad today, you would ask them, And then he listened. He wasn't so engulfed with his own pain and hardships that he didn't have space for anyone else. Rather, he used his hardships to be more empathetic towards the
others who were suffering. He cared, He really cared. We often moved through life preoccupied with our own troubles, deaf to the silent cries of those around us. But Joseph's story teaches us a profound truth to live by. No matter our own struggles, we must see and respond to the pain of others. Never underestimate the power of a simple question, how are you, what's your name?
What have you been through?
It can save a life, and as we learn from the story of Joseph, it can change the world. Let's talk a little bit about the man whose life, Ja Joseph saved, Pharaoh's imprisoned cupbearer. Joseph asked the cup bearer to please remember him to Pharaoh and help him get out of jail. But the very last verse of this chapter tells us that this didn't happen. This is what it reads. Quote The chief cupbearer, however, did not remember Joseph. He forgot him. End quote. We've seen this in previous episodes,
and we'll see it again. The Bible repeating itself for a reason. So why did the Bible repeat itself here? It says he did not remember Joseph, he forgot him. The Bible doesn't include any extra word, So we have to ask, why is the Bible telling us this twice? If the cup bear didn't remember Joseph, then of course he forgot him. Why does the Bible tell us the same thing twice. There's a beautiful teaching here from Jewish tradition that the Bible verse wishes to remind us that, yes,
the cup bearer forgot Joseph, but God remembered him. We all depend on other people, and sometimes they come through for us, and sometimes they don't.
But even when.
Others forget us, God always remembers. God is not silent. He speaks in dreams, in whispers, in that still small voice. And that's what all of us must remember. That everything in our lives, even our dreams, our aspirations, our hopes, it comes from God. Joseph was a very self confident person, a gift that sometimes also proved to be a burden. But Joseph somehow tempered his self confidence with his deep
trust in God. So when the cupbearer and the baker asked him to interpret their dreams, Joseph answered immediately quote do not interpretations belong to God?
End quote.
Joseph didn't claim the talent of dream interpretation as his own. Rather, he immediately mentioned God. He realized that his skill, his gift, was directly from God, and also it showed that he was faithful that God would inspire him to interpret the dreams correctly. He was saying, Lord, I can't do this on my own. You interpret the dreams and give me
the words. Isn't it a wonderful aspiration for all of us, on the one hand, to have confidence in ourselves, to believe we can do anything, that we can rise to greatness, but on the other hand, to always remember to turn to God for guidance. My abba, my father, Rabbi Riel Ekstein of Blessed Memory, was an extraordinary man. He would
find out what native language the homeless person spoke. My father learned a few words in every language, so he would be able to connect personally to the homeless people and the people in need. I watched as he would speak a few words in their language. He would give them a big smile. Sometimes he'd give them a hug, and in that instant, their dejection turned to joy, and their hearts were lifted by my father's genuine love and
care and compassion. In today's episode of the Chosen People, that is the spirit that we see and we learn from in Joseph's story. In that dark prison, Joseph noticed the sorrow of his fellow inmates. He cared, he spoke to them, he offered to help in whatever way he could. And just like Joseph, we have to learn not to be silent, not to be deaf, to those cries around us.
We have to remember from Joseph, no matter how hard our struggles are, we still have to hold the space to see and respond to the pain of others.
You can listen to The Chosen People with Isle Eckstein ad free by downloading and subscribing to the Prey dot Com app today. This Prey dot Com production is only made possible by our dedicated team of creative talents. Steve Katina, Max Bard, Zach Shellabarger and Ben Gammon are the executive producers of The Chosen People with Yil Eckstein, edited by
Alberto Avilla, narrated by Paul Coltofianu. Characters are voiced by Jonathan Cotton, Aaron Salvato, Sarah Seltz, Mike Reagan, Stephen Ringwold, Sylvia Zaradoc and the opening prayer is voiced by John Moore. Music by Andrew Morgan Smith, written by Bree Rosalie and Aaron Salvato. Special thanks to Bishop Paul Lanier, Robin van Ettin, kayleb Burrows, Jocelyn Fuller, and the team at International Fellowship
of Christians and Jews. You can hear more Prey dot Com productions on the prey dot Com app available on the Apple App Store and Google play Store. If you enjoyed The Chosen People with Yil Egstein, please rate and leave a review.