Redeemed Failures, Day 5: Judah — When You Wound and Then Change

Genesis 37:18–36; Genesis 38; Genesis 44:18–34; Matthew 1:2–3

The Brother with the Terrible Idea

The plot to get rid of Joseph started with hate, but it was Judah who gave it direction.

His brothers wanted to kill the dreamer. There he was, thrown into a pit, the object of their rage over his robe, his dreams, his favored place in their father's heart. Reuben tried to find another way. But when a caravan of traders appeared on the horizon, it was Judah who broke the silence with words that would haunt him:

"What profit is it if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? Come, let us sell him..." (Genesis 37:26–27)

His brothers listened. Joseph was sold for twenty pieces of silver and carried away to Egypt. Later, it was Judah who helped deceive their father with the bloodied robe, who watched Jacob weep over his "dead" son. Judah's voice had shaped the betrayal. His silence now prolonged the lie.

Something broke in Judah that day. The very next chapter tells us he "went down from his brothers" and went to live among the Canaanites (Genesis 38:1). Distance. Detachment. Perhaps shame.

What we find there isn't redemption. It's another kind of fall.

A Scandal of His Own

Living apart from his brothers, Judah tried to build a new life. He had three sons and arranged for the first to marry a young woman named Tamar. But that son died under God's judgment. So did the second. Judah promised his third son to Tamar but then kept delaying, leaving her in limbo, legally bound but practically abandoned.

Tamar finally took matters into her own hands. She disguised herself as a prostitute along a road where she knew Judah would pass. He didn't recognize her and slept with her, leaving his signet ring, cord, and staff as payment.

Months later, when news reached Judah that his daughter-in-law was pregnant, he was furious. "Bring her out," he commanded, "and let her be burned" (Genesis 38:24).

But Tamar had kept the evidence. She sent word: "By the man to whom these belong, I am pregnant" (Genesis 38:25).

The signet, cord, and staff were Judah's.

He had been ready to punish her for the very thing he had caused. The betrayer had become the hypocrite. But in that crushing moment of exposure, something shifted. For the first time in the story, Judah owned his failure:

"She is more righteous than I." (Genesis 38:26)

It was just five words. But they marked the beginning of something new, the first crack in a heart that had grown hard with self-protection and shame.

The Brother Who Offered Himself

Years passed. Famine struck the land, forcing Jacob's sons to travel to Egypt for grain. They had no idea that the powerful ruler they bowed before was the brother they had sold into slavery. But Joseph knew exactly who they were.

Through a series of tests, Joseph watched his brothers carefully. Had they changed? When he demanded they bring Benjamin on their next trip, they reluctantly agreed. When he planted his silver cup in Benjamin's sack and accused him of theft, they were devastated. And when Joseph declared he would keep Benjamin as his slave, something remarkable happened.

Judah stepped forward.

This was the brother who had once suggested selling Joseph. The man who had lived selfishly among the Canaanites. The one who had been ready to burn Tamar for his own sin. Now he stood before the most powerful man in Egypt and pleaded, not with excuses or clever arguments, but with raw honesty and empathy about what losing Benjamin would do to their father.

Then came the words that changed everything:

"Now therefore, please let your servant remain instead of the boy... for how can I go back to my father if the boy is not with me?" (Genesis 44:33–34)

Twenty years before, Judah had sold a brother into slavery. Now he was offering to become a slave himself. This wasn't just remorse over past failure; it was the fruit of genuine transformation. The man who had once protected himself at all costs was now willing to sacrifice everything for someone else.

Joseph couldn't contain himself any longer. He wept.

The Lion from Judah

When the family was finally reunited and Jacob prepared to give his final blessings, it might have seemed natural for Joseph to receive the greatest honor. After all, he had saved them all from famine. He had forgiven his brothers and provided for the family. He had demonstrated wisdom and faithfulness even in the darkest circumstances.

But it was Judah who received the promise that would echo through all of history:

"The scepter shall not depart from Judah..." (Genesis 49:10)

Through Judah's line would come King David. Through Judah's line would come the Messiah. When Matthew traces Jesus's genealogy, both Judah and Tamar are named (Matthew 1:3)—the man who had betrayed and the woman he had wronged, both now part of the lineage that leads to the Savior of the world!

This is how grace rewrites stories. It doesn't erase the chapters of failure and shame, but it refuses to let them be the final word. The brother who started as a betrayer becomes the ancestor of redemption itself.

An Encouragement

Maybe you've been the one who caused the harm. Not just someone who failed, but someone who wounded others with your choices—your silence, your suggestions, your sin.

Judah's story reminds us that real change is possible. That confession can be the beginning of transformation. That we aren't forever bound to who we were at our worst.

Grace can reach even those who started the betrayal. And the same God who saw Judah's cowardice also received his courage.

He still does.

Enjoy all 31 devotionals in the Redeemed Failures series here —stories of grace, second chances, and the God who still restores.