Genesis 39:2: “The Lord was with Joseph so that he prospered, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master.”
“You can read and write?” Potiphar asked Joseph. He was amazed. Evidently this new slave he had purchased a year ago was worth his weight in gold. Joseph had picked up on the dialect spoken in the Nile Delta fairly quickly. He replied: “Yes, Master. My father taught me – and I am good with numbers.” Potiphar couldn’t agree with him more: “So I noticed”, he complimented him, “It was a wise decision to put you in charge of our household expenses. Our vendors have stopped cheating us.” Joseph smiled. His master looked at him thoughtfully and said: “You have adapted so quickly, it almost seems you were born here. You are smart and thorough, and you have handled all of my projects with great success. The gods are with you.”
Joseph bowed before his master and gratefully responded: “Thank you, Master.” Potiphar added: “You have served me well. I herewith promote you to be my personal assistant. Starting tomorrow, you will be responsible for our book keeping, and my entire staff will be reporting to you.” Joseph blushed and responded: “I relish the opportunity, Master, and I will serve you to the best of my abilities.” – “I trust that you will”, Potiphar smiled.
Within a decade Joseph matured into a very capable administrator of Potiphar’s personal affairs. Under Joseph’s care everything went smoothly, and his master didn’t have to worry about a thing.
Potiphar’s job was to manage the security detail in Pharaoh’s palace. As a result, he was often called away and gone for long periods of time. Before long, his young wife became visibly bored. Eventually her eye fell on her husband’s personal assistant. Joseph had grown his thick wavy hair to shoulder-length and wore a stylish kilt decorated with gold thread. Under the fine linen fabric she could anticipate his trim, muscular body.
Over time, Potiphar’s wife became obsessed with the thought of sleeping with Joseph. In her dreams she seduced him time and again and subsequently woke up aroused. One morning she got up, bathed and chose her most revealing outfit. Then she had him brought to her chambers. Joseph bowed low before her. “What seems to be the problem, Mistress”, he asked without looking at her. “If there is anything that needs my attention …” – “Joseph”, Potiphar’s wife interrupted him, “It is I who needs your attention.” Joseph’s mind momentarily went blank as he tried to weave himself out of a sticky situation. He stammered: “Mistress … I …” – “Oh Joseph, Joseph, Joseph”, the woman sighed, “Call me by my real name. I am Chione, mythical daughter of the Nile. I am water and you … you are fire!” She added: “Come to bed with me…” Shockwaves went through Joseph’s body. He had never lain with a woman and the temptation was strong, but he resisted. He quickly backed away, pleading with her: “Mistress, please – you are my master’s wife and I am his slave. How could I sin against God and take what is his? I know my place and so do you.”
However, Chione did not give up. Now that this handsome young man had pretended to be disinterested in her, she wanted him all the more. Finally an opportunity presented itself when Joseph was alone in the house attending to his duties. Unnoticed, she approached him from behind and brushed her body past him while she playfully pulled his cloak: “Come on lover boy – have your way with me!” But Joseph freed himself and ran away from her, as fast as his feet could carry him. Only his coat was left in her hands.
Rejected, Chione was outraged. Looking at Joseph’s garment in her hands an idea began to form. She tousled her hair and ripped her delicate garment so that she looked like she had been in a fight. Then she screamed on top of her lungs and her personal staff rushed to her side. “This foreigner, this Hebrew slave was trying to rape me”, Chione wailed. “But when I screamed for help he fled and left this garment with me.” She held up Joseph’s cloak for all to see.
The bad news was reported to Potiphar and he immediately returned home. His wife was in her chambers with her servant girls assisting her. On her lap was the piece of evidence: Joseph’s cloak.
Potiphar had to hear it from the horse’s mouth and asked his wife: “What happened here?” Chione had cried herself into hysteria and sobbed: “You …. You have to ask? Look at me! This Hebrew slave of yours tried to rape me! Isn’t this his cloak?!” and she threw Joseph’s garment to the floor. Potiphar was furious. He could see right through his wife’s charade. Because of her, he was on the verge of losing his most valuable slave.
It was custom in ancient Egypt that a spurned husband killed the adulterer on the threshold of his home, but Potiphar would not give his wife this satisfaction. “Please change your clothes”, he said to her, “we will litigate this offense immediately.” He turned around and instructed his servants to call together a meeting: “Every member of this household is called to the reception hall. And bring Joseph to me.”
Nobody knew what was spoken behind closed doors, but when Potiphar came out of his office his face was ashen while Joseph looked forlorn. Handcuffed he was led down to the reception hall where everybody awaited the trial. Nobody spoke, but the heavy silence that weighed on the bystanders expressed more than a million words that Joseph was extremely popular while Potiphar’s capricious wife was not.
Potiphar walked Joseph to the front door where he handed him over to his soldiers. Turning to his audience he formally announced the verdict: “Joseph has been condemned to life in prison. Effective immediately, he will be transferred to the place where Pharaoh’s prisoners are held.” Potiphar dismissed the crowd and everybody left the hall, except his wife. She was incredulous. “Husband, today you have humiliated me in front of everybody. This slave deserves the death penalty. After all, he tried to rape me!” With tiredness in his eyes Potiphar looked at his wife and finally said: “Woman, I do not want to talk about this. Not now and not ever!”
Now Joseph was handed over to the jailer and he locked him up. In the moonless night to follow he wrestled with the Lord, praying: “Oh God of our fathers Abraham, Isaac and Jacob – where are You?” The walls around him were tall and the barred windows in his cell were small. He felt trapped like a bird. “Lord this is not fair. I have done nothing to deserve this. Why is it that people spread lies about me?” Joseph wept bitterly. And although he could not perceive God’s voice audibly like in Jacob’s day when he saw heaven open, Joseph felt an inexplicable peace entering his heart. He knew, regardless of how bad it looked from the outside, God was right here with him – even in a forgotten dungeon.