As an Old Testament scholar, I’ve been spending much of my time writing a commentary on Exodus. And as I worked through the first chapter, considering the predicament of the enslaved Hebrews in Egypt, it hit me: The exploitation of the Israelites was made possible by the drastic administrative policies Joseph implemented during the years of famine. The descendants of Jacob had arrived in Egypt under the (somewhat) mutually beneficial arrangements Joseph had made with the support of the previous Pharaoh.
The curtain of Exodus opens on this scene: A new Pharaoh who despised the Hebrews arose and exploited their labor for his own ends, using Joseph’s own crisis-era economic policies. To me, this story offers a cautionary tale about why the personal integrity and character of our political leaders may matter just as much as their platforms or policies—a principle we should keep in mind as we cast our ballots this November.
Joseph is often cast by interpreters as one of the few Old Testament leaders characterized by integrity, along with Daniel, Deborah, Joshua, and Josiah. Arguably, Joseph lacked emotional intelligence in his younger years—reporting to his brothers the dreams he had of his future glory and their obeisance. As the eldest son of his father’s favorite wife, Joseph was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a colorful cloak to prove it.
Jealous of Joseph, his brothers attacked and sold him into slavery in Egypt. Yet Joseph’s abilities in household management resulted in him running his master’s entire household. You know the story: After his master’s wife tried to seduce Joseph, she falsely accused him of assault, and he landed in prison. Again, he won the trust of the prison warden, who offered him more responsibilities.
Joseph’s spiritual discernment aided his fellow prisoners, and eventually he found himself standing before a troubled Pharaoh to interpret his dream. He offered shrewd advice on how to navigate an impending food crisis, so Pharaoh put him in charge.
In the first year of the famine, people spent all their money buying grain from the Egyptian government (Gen. 47:14–15). Joseph had stockpiled it through a mandatory 20 percent tax during the years of plenty (41:34–36). During the next year of famine, people traded their livestock for grain (47:16–17).
And by the final year of famine, people began offering themselves and their land in exchange for food (vv. 18–19). Pharaoh provided seed for planting that year and laid claim to 20 percent of the harvest going forward (vv. 23–26).
Through these emergency measures, Pharaoh ended up owning almost all the land, and heavy taxation became a regular feature of Egyptian life. Although the Egyptians were grateful to Joseph for saving their lives (v. 25), according to Genesis, he “reduced the people to servitude, from one end of Egypt to the other” (v. 21).
Joseph became a powerful man. His brothers were terrified of the authority he wielded (50:15–18). Yet Joseph’s forgiveness allowed them all to live at peace (vv. 19–21). In other words, his integrity made the difference between benevolence or exploitation at the hands of the government.
That is, until the new Pharaoh arose, one who had no connection to Joseph and felt the Hebrew population was a threat to Egypt’s national security (Ex. 1:6–10). Building on the foundation Joseph had unwittingly laid, this new Pharaoh exploited the Israelites’ labor and “made their lives bitter” (v. 14).
The narrator’s signals encourage us to see the connections. Exodus begins with a list, borrowed from Genesis, of Jacob’s sons, who had moved to Egypt with their 70 descendants (Gen. 46:8–27; Ex. 1:1–5). The new Pharaoh’s attempt to “deal wisely” with the Hebrew people (Ex. 1:10, KJV) is a verbal echo of the wisdom Joseph had demonstrated (Gen. 41:39). And finally, his concern that the Hebrews would be “added to” (yasaf) their enemies (Ex. 1:10) echoes Joseph’s own name (Yosef), which means “added to” (Gen. 30:24).
Read in the most charitable way possible, Joseph’s policies were neutral—a shrewd path to survival for a country facing a large-scale humanitarian crisis. Yet those same policies wielded by another leader—one marred by prejudice and lacking a commitment to human flourishing—spelled disaster.
In this light, we might ask ourselves: Does it matter how our political leaders conduct themselves in private? Should we be concerned about issues of character? Or should we prioritize platform and policy over personal integrity?
Growing up, the answers to these questions were obvious. I came of age during Clinton’s presidency, when the adults in my Christian community insisted that spurious sexual behavior was a political deal-breaker. (To be clear, they already opposed him, citing, among other things, that he was a “ladies’ man” with a history of dubious business deals.) Yet today, many of these same people are planning to vote for former president Donald Trump for the third time—a man whose sexual and financial history makes former president Clinton’s indiscretions sound amateurish.
I’m not the only one wondering, What changed? When did we decide that character no longer matters in our nation’s leaders? What justifies our acceptance of public officials whose personal lives lack ethical standards? Why is criminal behavior no longer a disqualification for public office?
CT’s editor in chief Russell Moore notes that Gen Xers and millennials are leaving the church at an alarming rate. However, he explains, “We see now young evangelicals walking away from evangelicalism not because they do not believe what the church teaches, but because they believe the church itself does not believe what the church teaches.” Many young people are losing faith in the evangelical legacy.
Until recently, many conservative Christians said that a pro-life party platform justified their vote for a man whose personal life was deeply problematic. But things have changed even on this front, as the Republican Party appears to distance itself from its former approach to pro-life issues. As their presidential nominee and former president Trump recently stated, “My Administration will be great for women and their reproductive rights.”
Since former president Trump’s Supreme Court appointments secured the end of Roe v. Wade, this announcement feels like a bait and switch. Perhaps this should come as no surprise, since Trump supported abortion before his presidential bid. This is the kind of betrayal that can happen time and again whenever we vote for candidates who have a checkered history with integrity—and it happens on both sides of the political aisle.
For instance, evangelicals like myself have also expressed disappointment with President Biden’s broken promises on refugee resettlement and immigration. As I saw for myself on a trip to the Mexican border with World Relief, his administration tolerated detention of asylum seekers in unsanitary conditions for days awaiting processing. Instead of receiving a more humane and efficient approach to border security, asylum seekers released into the US often face a wait of more than five years for a court date.
As a registered independent, I’m looking to support leaders who model a consistent character and make decisions that lead to the long-term flourishing of our nation. And as a Bible scholar, I find passages throughout the Bible that support both personal piety and social responsibility—in ways that do not fit neatly into either major political party.
It may be too soon to tell whether the American Solidarity Party offers a path forward for voters like me, but I’m encouraged by how their platform seeks to honor the values I hold dear. No doubt many believe a third-party vote is wasted at best and dangerous at worst. Such pragmatism is understandable, and I respect those who have carefully weighed their options and decided to vote for what they believe to be the lesser of two evils.
But my point is that we must not turn a blind eye to the character flaws in any political candidate—or worse, feel the need to defend them simply to justify our vote. The Joseph story reminds us that integrity matters universally, especially in politics. A platform is only as good as the person it elevates. Likewise, voting for policies alone is not enough if the next person in office can simply reverse their precepts or apply benefits unevenly.
It matters how our public officials conduct themselves in private, because eventually their true colors will show in public whenever it is no longer politically expedient for them to stay hidden. No governmental system or political party is perfect—which is precisely why the person we vote into the Oval Office can make all the difference.
Joseph’s story is also one example among many in history where a government’s response to crisis paved the way for later abuses of power. Joseph worked within the political system to save his family and an entire nation, unaware of how his policies would eventually be abused. This is why we must place guardrails on government authority—as well as business and labor practices—to protect future generations from unscrupulous leaders tempted to use the system to their advantage.
At the end of the day, as N. T. Wright said in a recent interview with CT, faithful Christian engagement with politics doesn’t mean “that the church should be running the world, but that the church has a vital role to play in speaking truth to power—in holding up a mirror to power and in modeling what God’s new creation should look like.”
Let’s not forget that people take their whole selves into political office. Character matters, for our candidates and for ourselves.
Carmen Joy Imes is associate professor of Old Testament at Biola University and author of Bearing God’s Name and Being God’s Image. She’s currently writing her next book, Becoming God’s Family: Why the Church Still Matters.
