There is something about human nature that assumes the worst in others, often because it resides in our own hearts. We project, we deflect, and in doing so, we expose ourselves more than we realize. Joseph’s brothers knew their own treachery; they had sold their own flesh and blood into slavery, then deceived their father with a lie that lasted for years. So when their father Jacob died, they could only assume Joseph would act as they might have acted. They expected vengeance. They anticipated judgment. Because in their own hearts, they knew what they deserved.

“When Joseph’s brothers had seen that their father was dead, they said, ‘What if Joseph holds a grudge against us and pays us back in full for all the wrong which we did to him!’ So they sent instructions to Joseph, saying, ‘Your father commanded us before he died, saying, This is what you shall say to Joseph: “Please forgive, I beg you, the offense of your brothers and their sin, for they did you wrong.”’ And now, please forgive the offense of the servants of the God of your father.” And Joseph wept when they spoke to him.’” (Genesis 50:15-17, BSB)

Joseph’s response was not what they expected. He had long since entrusted his suffering to God. He saw what they could not see—that God’s purposes were unfolding even in the midst of their wickedness. But their fear revealed something about their own hearts. They had spent years assuming Joseph was like them, a man still harboring the bitterness of past wounds, waiting for the right moment to strike. But Joseph had surrendered his right to vengeance to the Lord. Their assumptions only exposed their own guilt.

This same dynamic plays out in our world.

Those who live by deception assume others do too. Those who manipulate power suspect others of the same. Those who are guilty often accuse others first, as if to shield themselves. This is the corruption of the human heart. It is no surprise that our world is filled with accusations, deflections, and hypocrisy—it has always been so.

But for those of us who belong to Christ, the question is not simply whether we can diagnose the sins of the world. That is easy. The harder task is to examine ourselves. How am I responding? Am I merely condemning, or am I interceding? Am I seeing the failings of others but forgetting my own? Am I so caught up in what is wrong with the world that I neglect to bring its brokenness before the only One who can heal it?

“First of all, then, I urge that requests, prayers, intercession, and thanksgiving be made in behalf of all people, for kings and all who are in authority, so that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and dignity. This is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who wants all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” (1 Timothy 2:1-4, BSB)

It is easy to criticize leaders

It is much harder to pray for them. Yet God commands it. And why? Because our hope is not in their ability to rule justly—though we long for that—but in God’s ability to change hearts. My government, my nation, my community need my prayers more than my complaints. The brokenness of the world should drive me to my knees, not just to my opinions.

Spurgeon was right: “Prayer moves the arm that moves the world.” But he also gave another warning worth heeding: “Beware of no man more than of yourself; we carry our worst enemies within us.” The hypocrisy, the accusations, the self-righteousness we see in the world? It lurks in our own hearts, too. The problem is not just “out there”—it is “in here.”

Joseph understood.

He saw himself in the light of God’s mercy, which allowed him to show mercy to others. And so must we. If I am grieved by the world’s corruption, let me pray all the more. If I am burdened by injustice, let me entrust it to the One who judges righteously. If I am tempted to despair, let me remember that God is not finished yet.

“The king’s heart is a waterway in the hand of the LORD; He directs it where He pleases.” (Proverbs 21:1, BSB)
“For the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1:20, BSB)

The story is not over. And neither is God’s work in the world—or in me.

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