Genesis 46

Jacob (or Israel, as he's called in this chapter--the author flip-flops between his two names) isn't about to leave all his precious belongings, so he sets "out with all that was his" (verse 1). God then reaffirms his the covenant He made with Abraham, promising to make his descendants burgeon even more than they already have (he has more than 66 members in his current party alone). God also promises that "Joseph's own hand will close your eyes" (verse 4)--which seems like a rather morbid statement at first, but it does confirm that Jacob will be reunited with his son. And perhaps more comforting, it implies that Jacob won't have to watch his son die. To paraphrase King Theoden, no parent should ever have to bury their child.

The author sees it fit at this point to list Jacob's children and grandchildren--well, the men at least. There's some fuzzy accounting going on here (the names of Jacob's descendants add up to more than 66), but the NIV notes that one of the names was probably added in error somewhere along the line.

Jacob is finally reunited with Joseph, the son he had long thought dead. Whenever there's a dramatic reunion in the Bible, I always think of this music (0:17-0:45).

 

See, not all the music from The Matrix films was techno-dance music (or whatever you call it). Anyway, when father and son reunite, Joseph in particular is just about as stoic as you'd imagine.

I realize that I've made sport of Joseph's periodic weeping, but in all honesty, why should we decry men who happen to be a little more sensitive than society allows? I haven't really cried since elementary school--mostly because I've got a pretty darn good life, despite how much I complain to myself--and, as I mentioned before, only one piece of entertainment has actually made me shed tears. And yet I still find myself getting emotional when watching particular films. The Iron Giant, The Tale of the Princess Kaguya, Forbidden Games (Jeux Interdits in the original French), ET, and Edward Scissorhands all exhibit poignancy that stirs me. Music can do that to me as well; if you liked the "reunion" music I linked above, listen below for an even more dramatic rendition of that theme (2:44-end).


And while I'm linking music cues, I might as well link the track that I find the most emotionally sublime--and the melody is actually written to be sung along to the Lord's Prayer (though the choir actually is just "aaah"-ing). Written for the movie King of Kings, it is gloriously transcendent.


Going to back to Japanese dramas (because I know you're all so eager to read more about them), it's intriguing how the Japanese are expected to act all emotionally taciturn and reserved. And yet in their dramas, you have women and men alike blubbering all over creation. Intellectuals much more learned than I have ruminated on the relationship between logic and emotion and which one, if any, is more beneficial. Many societies expect men to be rational and women to be emotional, but--to make a statement worthy of Captain Obvious--I think it behooves us to have a healthy balance of both.