February 24, 2019 – Genesis 45:3-11, 15; Luke 6:27-38
Genesis 45:3-11, 15; Luke 6:27-38
God Intended it for Good
7th Sunday after the Epiphany – February 24, 2019
First Lutheran Church – Winnipeg, MB
A long time ago, when Joseph was just a boy, he was sold into slavery by his brothers.
They were jealous of him and wanted to be rid of him – they told their father he had died.
The boy went through many hardships as a result.
He was a slave. He was taken to a foreign country.
He works hard and is smart and rises to a position of some prominence.
But he is falsely accused of a crime and is sent to prison.
There, he uses his gifts of dream interpretation and
eventually comes to the attention of the Pharaoh.
Eventually he attains a position of great prominence, a trusted advisor of Pharaoh,
and second only to him in power.
In anticipation of famine across the Mediterranean world. Joseph advises Pharaoh
to store up enough grain to withstand 7 years of drought – and it is done.
Now here’s the thing: the drought also affects his homeland of Canaan,
where his brothers and father still live.
The drought drives them in desperation to Egypt to seek food.
Eventually they are brought before Pharaoh’s second in command to ask for help.
Only here’s the thing: they do not know it is Joseph who holds their fate in his hands!
But . . . he of course recognizes them.
We are set up here for a story of vengeance.
A very satisfying story of “You have got to be kidding me! Do you know who I am!
I am Joseph whom you sold into slavery! Guards: throw them into the brig!”
And let’s face it, that would be a very satisfying story,
as any of us who have been wronged can attest.
I am sure that is why vengeance movies like John Wick or Liam Neeson’s Taken movies
are so popular: maybe we know we can’t take vengeance for wrongs done to us,
but it is very satisfying to see someone on the big screen do it!
But this is not the way Joseph responds: move aside, Keanu Reeves and Liam Neeson.
There is another, and bigger, and grander story to be told here.
First, though, Joseph tests his brothers to see if they have changed,
to see if they have learned anything from what they did to him all those years ago.
First: he has his innocent brother Benjamin framed for stealing a silver cup.
They he tells that he will let them off the hook for this crime
if they leave Benjamin behind as a slave in Egypt.
Now Benjamin is also a favourite son of their father’s,
and they realized it would kill Jacob to have another favourite son taken from him.
And we wonder: what will the brothers do?
Will they once again sell a brother into slavery for their own benefit?
Or have they learned how much anguish it caused their father when Joseph was taken from him?
Well, it was Judah’s idea to sell Joseph in the first place way back in the day.
And as the silence looms, and we wonder what will happen,
we notice a single spotlight fall on Judah . . . who this time offers to stay behind himself
instead of his brother Benjamin.
It is at this point in the story that Joseph, unable to contain himself any longer, and
realizing that this is Judah’s act of contrition for what he did to him all those years before,
Joseph reveals himself to be the brother they sold into slavery long ago.
There is astonishment, there are tears, there is embracing – and above all,
there is the beginning of reconciliation, the beginning of healing,
and the beginning of forgiveness.
Fast forward 1500 years and we hear Joseph’s descendant Jesus say these words this morning: Love your enemies. Do go to those who hate you.
Be merciful as your Father in heaven is merciful. Love your enemies. And forgive.
In a culture of retribution and violence in 1500 BCE, or 30 ACE, or 2019 ACE,
the story of Joseph and his brothers and the words of Jesus will always astonish.
They will provoke disbelief.
They will provoke contempt.
But in a world in tremendous need of healing and reconciliation, is there a story,
and are there any words, that we need more to hear?
What is truly great about the story is that it is not just a story with a moral: forgive your enemies.
It is also a story that give us a theological lens through which to view
everything that has gone on.
One of many fascinating things in this masterpiece of ancient literature is that
God almost never directly appears in the story.
And yet, Joseph says this today when he forgives his brothers:
Do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here:
for God sent me before you to preserve life . . . to preserve a remnant on earth,
and to keep alive many survivors.
It’s not that God did the evil deed in the first place –
the brothers were fully responsible for the evil they did.
But God took what they did, and almost silently over the years took that bad thing and
turned it into something that gave life.
Turned it into something that was part of God’s much bigger plan for good.
To be sure, there were bad consequences to their actions: Joseph really suffered.
And God was not in any way responsible for that.
But together,
God and Joseph were able to wring something good from the evil that had been done.
And they preserve life not only for Egypt, not only for Joseph’s family, but, the storyteller says,
for numerous people.
Many many people come to Egypt for food during the widespread drought,
and thanks to Joseph they are fed – Joseph, who only ended up in his position because
his brothers had done a bad thing many years before.
God, we learn, does not necessarily prevent bad things from happening.
We have been given a lot of freedom of choice, to love or to harm.
But because God is incredibly gracious, God does not leave things there.
God works to redeem the poor choices we make.
God seeks at every point to turn the bad things we do and the bad things that happen to us
to a good Godly purpose.
In some ways, the moral of this 14 chapter-long story is that God turns the sinful actions of
a few brothers into something that ultimately feeds the whole world.
And God does it almost silently, imperceptibly, working behind the scenes.
The story is an invitation to trust that God is at work even when we can’t see that.
The story is also an invitation to see that God is not responsible for human evil.
But it is also an invitation to see that God works works works over years and year and years to
redeem that evil into something good,
to trust that God can bring life from death – it is the most constant biblical theme.
It is an invitation to hope.
But it is also an invitation to work.
I am sure it was not easy for Joseph to forgive.
But in the story he forgives not only through his words, as important as those are.
He also forgives through his actions, through his promise to provide for his family.
Forgiveness is certainly not saying “what you did to me was okay.” It is never that.
Forgiveness is saying “what you did to me was so not okay, I am taking bolt cutters and
freeing myself from the chains of it – and I can free you too.”
Forgiveness is always done from a position of strength.
Forgiveness, though, is a process, and for Joseph and his brothers the process takes years.
Years later, 5 chapters on, Joseph will finally be able to say to his brothers,
Even though you intended to harm me, God intended it for good,
in order to preserve a numerous people.
This story about forgiveness is about hope,
hope that cruelty and its consequences do not have the last word.
Hope that suffering and death do not have the last word.
Hope that God is working in the dark.
In 2019, we have to believe this is still true.
At Sargent and Victor, we have to believe this is still true.
In your homes and in your families and in your relationships we have to believe this is still true.
In our country and on the global stage we have to believe this is still true.
That God is working, even when we can’t see it: working for reconciliation, for healing,
and for life . . . for everyone.
The places we find ourselves in that we’d rather not be can be places where we can bring life.
The sufferings we undergo that we’d rather not can be experiences that give us
deep compassion for and understanding of others who suffer.
The injustices we experience can give us a heart for all who experience injustice.
The challenges we face can be opportunities for growth.
The disruptions we experience in our relationships can be opportunities for reconciliation.
God, it turns out, is a good steward of our experiences – no experience is wasted.
And that is a very heartening thought.
I am not gonna lie: I would rather not suffer from mental illness.
But it has been something in my life that has helped me minister to people who also suffer,
and it has bound me to them in a way that nothing else could.
God is a good steward of our experiences.
So this morning let us have hope that God is working, even when we can’t see it,
turning evil to good and death to life, and together let us say, “Amen.”
Pastor Michael Kurtz
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