“Provide”
Genesis 45:3-11, 15
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All Freshmen at the Jesuit high school that I attended in Denver were required to take a class titled simply, Freshman theology. But it might have been more properly titled, Introduction to the Pentateuch. That’s one of the names given to the first five books of the bible: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. In Jewish tradition these are called Torah, or the books of the Law. And while Leviticus is chock full of the kinds of commands that we think of when we use the word ‘law’, it also contains the family stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and the liberation narrative of Moses leading the Hebrew slaves out of Egypt. These too are considered part of the law. As high school freshman these stories were our first introduction to thinking critically, as well as faithfully when it came to biblical texts. When we got to the end of the book of Genesis, instead of having us read the saga of Joseph and his brothers, Father Burshek gave us the lyric sheets and played for us the soundtrack of the Tim Rice, Andrew Lloyd Weber musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I’ve since been a part of two productions of this show and can pretty much sing the whole thing for you, but will refrain from doing so this morning. It’s a fun show that does a decent enough job relating the events of Joseph’s story. But beneath the fun of a country western ode to a fallen Joseph, or Pharoah reminiscent of Elvis, or a Calypso number in defense of Benjamin, is a more complicated family drama that begins long before Joseph and his brothers are even born.
You see their father Jacob was himself something of a troublemaker. After taking his brother’s birthright and tricking their father into giving him his dying blessing, Jacob has to run for his life. He ends up at the home and with the family of a man named Laban, who has two daughters. Jacob works seven years for the chance to marry the younger of the two, Rebecca. But when he goes into the wedding tent, the trickster gets tricked and ends up with the older daughter, Leah, instead. The younger daughter cannot be married before the older one, he’s told. And he has to work another seven years before he can finally marry Rebecca for sure this time. Eventually, Jacob settles down with two additional wives, returns home and has twelve sons who will become the twelve tribes of Israel. But as should be clear, of his four wives, Rebecca was his favorite. And the sons he has with her, Joseph and Benjamin are also favored. You could say that’s where the trouble began, but as with most family drama, the roots often go back at least a generation, or two.
Joseph is not the oldest, in fact he’s the child of Jacob’s old age, but he is the clear favorite. Clear because Jacob goes to the effort and expense of having a fancy ornamental robe crafted for Joseph. You don’t have to be an expert in family systems to see how this is going to be received by his brothers. But if the robe isn’t bad enough, Joseph starts having dreams that he shares with his family. One about eleven sheaves in the field bowing down to him. Another about the sun and moon and eleven stars bowing down to him. Not subtle at all. And if they didn’t hate him before those dreams, they sure as heck after them.
Well, one day when they have him alone in the fields, they conspire to kill him. One of the brothers tempers the plan and suggests that instead of killing him, they simply rough him up. They tear off his fancy robe and throw him in a pit. Just then a caravan comes along and the brothers get the bright idea to sell their brother into slavery to be done with the whole thing. The caravan carries Joseph off to Egypt and the brothers tear the robe to shreds, dip it in goat’s blood and tell Jacob a story about how Joseph was killed by wild animals.
Meanwhile, Joseph ends up in captivity in Egypt. He’s sold into the house of a royal officer name Potiphar, and because God is with Joseph, Potiphar’s household thrives. In fact, Joseph has so much rizz, as the kids say, that he catches the eye of Potiphar’s wife. But when he turns down her advances, she accuses him of trying to assault her and Potiphar has him thrown into prison. And yet, even in prison God is with him. He’s put in charge of the other prisoners, and begins interpreting their dreams. So, when the Pharoah himself begins to have disturbing dreams that no one can decipher, a cupbearer who had been imprisoned remembers Joseph and commends him to the Pharoah. Joseph tell Pharoah that his dreams of fat cows and skinny cows, fat grain and skinny grain are forecast for Egypt: seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine. Pharoah is so impressed that he puts Joseph in charge of the plan to store up the plenty in anticipation of the famine. There is no one in Egypt other than the Pharoah himself who is greater than Joseph.
When the famine hits Egypt is well-stocked. But the famine isn’t just in Egypt is reaches all the way to the land of Canaan where Jacob and Joseph’s brothers are starving. Word reaches them of the plenty in Egypt and they go to buy grain. When they arrive Joseph recognizes them immediately, but they don’t recognize him. How could they? They remember some skinny kid they sold to some Ishmaelites, not the second highest ranking person in all of Egypt. But he recognizes them immediately.
Now I know it’s a long way to get to where this reading picks up this morning. But here is what you need to know. There is still more to the story. Because Joseph doesn’t immediately take pity on the family that sold him into slavery and forgive them. When we hear this story against the backdrop of a gospel text in which Jesus speaks of forgiveness, we might be inclined to think that Joseph is just our object lesson. But that isn’t what happens. No. He accuses them of being spies and has them put in prison. He sells them grain to take back home, but insists that they if they want to buy any more they must return with their youngest brother Benjamin. And when they do, he plants a silver cup in Benjamin’s sack and threatens to have him killed for stealing it. All of which is to say that it isn’t quite as simple as even Joseph’s thinks when he finally says, “Do not be angry or distressed with yourselves because God sent me before you to preserve life.” Families and generational trauma are rarely that cut and dried. And no one, not even the people that God is with, are paragons of virtue.
As people of faith, I think we miss that point sometimes. Every person that God chooses is flawed in some way or another. Which is to say that every person that God chooses is just as human as we are. The point of these stories isn’t to say to us, “be like Jacob. Be like Joseph. Be like Moses, or Joshua, or David.” No. The great comfort of the law of God is that it holds up the mirror and shows us that the people God works through to bring about God’s purpose, to feed the hungry and preserve life are every bit as messed up as we are. When people talk about biblical family values what they should be talking about is how families can be a blessing, but they can also be rife with jealousy, violence, and heartache. The bible doesn’t allow us to pretend that family is always what it’s cracked up to be. Whether that is our families of origin, the ones we make for ourselves, or the family we find in church communities like this one.
Yes, Joseph’s dreams are brought to fruition in this moment, but they are also the source of all the hard feelings that set the whole thing in motion to begin with. The vision that will sustain us in the darkness may also be the one that breaks things apart before bringing them back together. That’s rarely neat and tidy. It’s as messy and fraught with pain as crucifixion and resurrection. When darkness would derail us, and throw us into despair, it is the light that shines in the darkness that sustains and provides for us. Provides for our physical needs to be sure, but also provides the means and the circumstances by which forgiveness might knit our fractured lives and families back together.