Monday of Passion Week #
The hymns and canons of Holy Monday center on two key themes: first, the story of the righteous Joseph; second, the miracle of the barren fig tree performed by the Lord. In earlier times, monastic communities would offer readings to the brethren on this day from the writings of the Holy Fathers concerning these subjects—especially “A Word on the Fair Joseph” by St. Ephraim the Syrian and St. John Chrysostom’s homily “On the Barren Fig Tree.”
Joseph was the youngest—the twelfth—son of the patriarch Jacob. Jacob loved Joseph with particular affection, which stirred envy in his older sons, most of whom were already grown. One day, when Joseph was seventeen years old, he told his brothers about a dream he had: “We were binding sheaves in the field, and suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright, and your sheaves gathered around and bowed down to mine.” Believing he aspired to rule over them, they hated him all the more. Without any such intention, he soon told them another dream: “Behold, I dreamed again: this time the sun and the moon and eleven stars bowed down to me.” This provoked the brothers to fury. They conspired to kill him. While tending the flocks in the wilderness, they first stripped Joseph and cast him into a deep, empty well. Later, seeing a caravan of merchants passing by, they pulled him out and sold him for twenty pieces of silver. They smeared his coat with goat’s blood and showed it to their father, claiming that wild beasts had devoured the youngest son. The grieving father wept over the loss of his beloved child, powerless to change his fate. Meanwhile, the merchants brought Joseph to Egypt and sold him to one of Pharaoh’s officials.
Serving in this official’s house, Joseph so diligently and faithfully carried out his duties that his master entrusted him with full control over his affairs. For Joseph’s sake, God blessed the official’s household with abundance. But soon, the official’s wife, enticed by Joseph’s beauty and youth, attempted to seduce him. One day, she even grabbed him and tried to drag him to her bed, tearing at his garments. Unwilling to sin, Joseph fled, leaving his clothes in her hands. She then falsely accused him to her husband, claiming that the young servant had tried to assault her. Though reluctant to execute his trusted servant, the official had Joseph cast into the royal prison. There, Joseph interpreted the dreams of fellow prisoners. Later, when Pharaoh himself had a troubling dream, Joseph was recommended to him as a skilled interpreter.
Brought from the dungeon, Joseph explained Pharaoh’s dream: it foretold seven years of abundance followed by seven years of drought and severe famine. Joseph said, “Let Pharaoh find a discerning and wise man and set him over the land of Egypt. Let Pharaoh appoint officers throughout the land to gather a fifth of the harvest during the seven years of plenty. Let them collect and store all the food of these good years under Pharaoh’s authority, and keep it in cities. This food shall be a reserve for the land during the seven years of famine that will follow in Egypt, so that the land may not perish during the famine” (Genesis 41:33–36). Pharaoh replied, “Can we find such a one as this—a man in whom is the Spirit of God? […] Since God has revealed this to you, there is no one as wise and discerning as you. You shall be over my house, and all my people shall obey your command. Only in regard to the throne will I be greater than you” (Genesis 41:38–40). Thus appointed over all Egypt, Joseph stored up vast reserves of grain over the seven years of plenty. When famine came, not only Egyptians but people from neighboring lands came to buy food.
What connection does the story of Joseph have with the sufferings of the Savior, and why does the Church recall this story during Holy Week?
The Holy Fathers—theologians and interpreters of Scripture—saw in the sacred texts an inexhaustible wellspring of wisdom and divine revelation. In every page of the Old Testament, they found not merely tales of ancient deeds, but foreshadowings of what would be fulfilled in the New Covenant: prophecies and figures of the redemptive work of our Lord Jesus Christ, who Himself said, “Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of Me” (John 5:39). Not only prophetic visions, but also historical events of the Old Testament were interpreted by the Fathers as prefigurations of things yet to come. Joseph was understood as a type of Christ. St. Andrew of Crete writes in his Great Canon: “The righteous soul is bound by his own kin and sold into bondage, sweet in slavery, as a type of the Lord…” (Ode 5).
Just as Judas betrayed Christ to death for thirty pieces of silver, so too did the sons of Jacob sell their innocent younger brother for silver. The Christ-child found refuge in Egypt from the cruelty of Herod, just as Joseph was delivered from his brothers’ murderous envy. As Joseph turned away from the unclean enticements of the Egyptian woman, so did Christ reject Satan who tempted Him in the wilderness. As Joseph, by inspiration of the Spirit of God, foretold the future and laid up great storehouses of grain to save the people from famine, so too does Christ reveal to the faithful “the mystery hidden from ages and from generations” (Col. 1:26), and gives them “the living bread which came down from heaven”—His very self, declaring: “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to Me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on Me shall never thirst” (John 6:35). As Pharaoh, after freeing Joseph from prison, invested him with authority over all Egypt, so also did God, after raising Christ from the tomb, “highly exalt Him and give Him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth” (Phil. 2:9–10).
Thus, in these days of suffering and the uttermost abasement of the Incarnate God—the King of Heaven delivered into the hands of evil and thankless men—the Church sets before us, in the person of Joseph, a hidden image of Christ’s future glory.
The parable of the fig tree likewise holds rich spiritual instruction. On the morning after His triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the Lord, returning to the city from Bethany where He had spent the night, was hungry. As the Gospel tells us, “He saw a fig tree by the road and came to it, and found nothing on it but leaves, and said unto it, Let no fruit grow on thee henceforward forever. And immediately the fig tree withered away” (Matt. 21:19).
In this we see a dreadful warning: the fig tree represents those who, like many of us, possess only “a form of godliness”—only the outward signs—covering an inner lack of true piety, love, and good deeds. When the hour of testing comes, may it not be found that we are covered only with this fruitless external guise, bearing no fruits of virtue, like Adam and Eve who, after sinning, covered their shame with fig leaves. For as the fig tree withered, so shall we too be consumed by the fire of God’s wrath.
Yet Scripture, as always, has more than one layer of meaning, and in the case of the fig tree a prophecy concerning Israel is also seen. Clinging to the outward observance of the Law of Moses and its rites, devoid of their true spiritual content, the old Israel—represented by its elders, chief priests, and scribes—was found barren of the fruits of genuine faith, love, and wisdom. And when there came to them their “Helper and Defender” (Ex. 15:2), He who once gave them the Law and came “not to destroy the Law, but to fulfill” (Matt. 5:17), they rejected and killed Him. By the sign worked upon the fig tree, the Savior showed the same truth He spoke in words: “Therefore say I unto you, The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof” (Matt. 21:43). The fall of Israel served to bring about the calling and illumination of the Gentiles.
However, as the Apostle Paul makes clear in his Epistle to the Romans, and as the holy Fathers unanimously affirmed, this falling away is not final, and the Gentile Christians must not become proud or exalt themselves, lest they too fall, just as the Jews did. “I say then, Hath God cast away His people? God forbid,” exclaims the Apostle Paul, again using the image of the tree. “[…] For if the casting away of them be the reconciling of the world, what shall the receiving of them be, but life from the dead? If the firstfruit be holy, the lump is also holy: and if the root be holy, so are the branches. And if some of the branches be broken off, and thou, being a wild olive tree, wert grafted in among them, and with them partakest of the root and fatness of the olive tree; boast not against the branches. But if thou boast, thou bearest not the root, but the root thee. Thou wilt say then, The branches were broken off, that I might be grafted in. Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not highminded, but fear. For if God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest He also spare not thee. Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in His goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off” (Rom. 11:1, 15–22).
Thus, on the threshold of His Cross and Passion, the Lord, by the example of the fig tree, affirms us both in fear and in hope. He declares to each person—whatever their lineage or rank—that they will be judged not by appearance or ancestry, but by their fruit; and the one who brings forth no fruit of good works shall be rejected. Yet even to the withered tree He gives the hope of new life and greening boughs, according to the words of the righteous Job: “For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that its tender branch will not cease. Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground; yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant” (Job 14:7–9).
Let us then entreat Christ, who has redeemed us with His precious Blood, that He would grant us the dew of the grace of the Spirit, that we may be established in His will, “like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper” (Ps. 1:3).
Kondak, Tone 8
Jacob lamented the loss of Joseph, but the noble one sat upon a chariot, honored like a king. For he had not enslaved himself to the pleasures of the Egyptians, and now he is glorified by the One who knows the hearts of men, and who grants the crown that fadeth not away.
Ikos
Let us now join lamentation to mourning, and pour out tears with Jacob, as he weeps for the ever-memorable and chaste Joseph— he who was enslaved in body, yet kept his soul unenslaved, and ruled over all of Egypt. For God bestows upon His servants a crown that fadeth not away.