It is, no doubt, mischievous to pursue types too far, and calculated to weaken our estimate of the literal and historical value of scripture. Still we know from the scripture itself that many parts are to be applied most usefully in an allegorical sense, such as Paul's use of the histories of Hagar and of Melchisedec. Some passages are distinctly stated by the inspired writers to be typical, and in others the typical character is so obvious as to need no further warrant for its adoption. If we have a complicated lock, and only one key opens it, that is the proper key: if we have a cypher manuscript and only one system interprets it and lays all its fumbled letters into intelligible words, that is the true system: if we find passages in the lives of the patriarchs which are all opened and gleaming with light when we apply to them the principles of Christ, then we are justified in using them as types. Where there is evidence of such a design they do not come thus by chance.
“Do you think,” said Kepler, as he sat down to supper with his wife, still revolving in his capacious mind the conflicting problems of chance and design, “Do you think that a salad like this could by any possibility come thus together by Chance?” “No,” replied the wife promptly, “certainly not such a good one, nor so well seasoned.” And the answer has a great deal of philosophy in it though perhaps not much logic.
The details of Joseph's life are especially rich in (if not typical) at least, illustrative passages of much interest and instruction. As, however, they are generally sufficiently obvious, I will only draw attention to one or two farther instances. After his induction as Savior of the Gentiles; we find his own brethren, Israel, being brought to him, as in Rom. 11:25-26. But whereas we have the great principles of salvation illustrated in the former case, we have details illustrated in the latter.
Thus his brethren have already received from him a limited temporary assistance (during the Gentile period, such as the Jews are having now in the proffer of the gospel and providential care). But they will not go to their savior till they have proved every other source exhausted; and even then they go most reluctantly; while there is every indication that, if they had known who he was, they would sooner have gone to the other end of the earth. The Talmud says that they spent three days looking for Joseph when they entered Egypt, but like many other things in the Talmud that is an assertion for which there is no particle of evidence, and at the same time an assertion quite contrary to the general characteristics: “quite curiously the reverse of the truth” is the sentence that would most aptly characterize every independent “fact” of that book. Jacob says first they shall not go; then, “Go again and buy us a little food.” (The words “buy” and “little” are generally associated: one who thinks of buying salvation only expects a little, of it; and indeed there is none upon earth who can pay for more than a little.) At last he says, “If it must be so now, do this: take of the best fruits of the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a, little balm and a little honey” and so forth, and “doable money,” and then Benjamin as a kind of make-weight; finally he groans a vague appeal to the general mercy of God: “and God Almighty give you mercy before the man...... If I am bereaved” Here we see in a saint the worst phase of the natural sinful heart, whether in Jew or Gentile. It hates to approach Christ, and will not do so till it feels the pangs of hunger and the fear of death; then when at last it resolves to go to Him, it approaches with a total misconception of His nature and purpose, with dread in the heart, and a gift scraped from the famine-stricken ground to propitiate and to “buy a little” installment of favor; with balm to soothe, and honey to sweeten. But how little they know of that great heart filled with tender and beneficent” compassion towards thorn! “Do you not know,” said James II to Ayloffe, “that it is in my power to pardon you?” “I know it to be in your Majesty's power, but not in your Majesty's nature,” was the reply. Ayloffe had geed grounds for each an attitude, but Jacob had none.
In some passages we find grouped together several different types of the same Christ, signifying different offices. For instance, in Lev. 16, there is the ram for a burnt offering, the high priest who sacrifices, then the goat of sin-offering and the scape-goat, the bullocks, the incense and so forth. These all are distinct and well-known types, of the same Christ, at the same time, but in varied characters. There is something similar in Gen. 42; 43 Firstly, there is Joseph the receiving and dispensing savior; the dreamer, once rejected but now exalted, to whom they come. Secondly, there is Benjamin, the true propitiation, by whom they come. Joseph could only receive them, in connection with Benjamin: Christ can only receive and pardon those who come on the ground of His own personality and, merits. We come to Christ and with Christ. This is precisely what the “old man,” Jacob, seeks to avoid; and when it Can no longer be avoided, he prepares his gift of balm, honey and the rest, putting Benjamin last, and then groaning an appeal to the general providence of God for mercy. But Benjamin was all that was required; and it is strange that the more Jacob adds to Benjamin, the more uneasy he gets. The sinner that relies wholly and only on Christ has always a more settled peace and assurance (I don't say a more settled salvation) than one who wants to add on his own good works, religiousness, or anything—his money, balm, and honey. The philosophers say that the truths of mathematics must be the same all over the universe; that two and two must make four in the most distant world: but the heavenly arithmetic seems to me quite peculiar—whatever we add to Christ we deduct from Him: so that Christ and my merits are less—less acceptable to, God and less satisfactory for my peace—than Christ alone. It may be true that in heaven itself “two parallel lines will never meet;” yet one and one make nothing there sometimes.
Then, there is Judah, who exemplifies the principle of suretyship; and Simeon the principle of substitution. Finally, there is the corn—the Bread of Life, The case of Simeon is a very fine passage and of much interest. He is put into prison for the sins of others and kept as hostage. When the men came trembling and fearing, with their “little balm,” etc., they of course will do anything rather than go direct to their Savior; they seek out the steward. Now the steward's function is to pay creditors, and demand from debtors—he represents, if not the law itself, yet the principle of law. Of course the men would sooner go to him than to Joseph: what sinner ever at first did not prefer law to grace? So with deep humility, they approach, as sinners mostly affect, to establish two things; that they were innocent and virtuous, and yet that they will atone for their faults—rather inconsistent, but what happens?
The steward ignores their little litany, and says, “Peace be to you. . . Fear not! I had your money, and he brought Simeon out to them." Joseph had paid their debt, and Simeon's deliverance was the proof that there was nothing against them. It is the resurrection of Christ, the Substitute, from the prison of death, that gives the trembling sinner the, assurance that his debt is paid; and the verdict of acquittal is pronounced by the justice of God not by His mercy. Mercy provides the sacrifice, but Justice accepts it: He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins." It is the voice of a satisfied Justice that speaks: it says, not “you are forgiven” (mercy says that), but it says, “Fear not, I HAD your money.” “Payment God will not twice demand, First at my bleeding Surety's hand, And then again at mine.” There will never be stable peace in the soul the resurrection of the Substitute; and what is thus declared, is attained. Everything is unstable till “the third day the, dry land appears,” producing the fruitful trees.