Becoming a People of God: Joseph and His Family Reconcile

Mark Diller Harder

Genesis 42-46

How many of us heard these kinds of phrases growing up?

‘Come on boys. Come on girls… say you’re sorry.’

 ‘Just kiss and make up.’

‘Say you are sorry like you mean it.’

‘It was nothing. You need to forgive them.’

‘You better get along because you want to be friends with your sibling when you are older.’

‘Forgive and Forget’

We have these internalized childhood messages about forgiveness and how important forgiveness is, but also how easy and how necessary it is. It is part of what it means to be a good person. These messages are reinforced by some of the Biblical phrases we hear.

‘If you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your sins.’ (Matthew 6:14-15)

‘How often should I forgive? Seven times? Not seven times, but I tell you, seventy seven times’ (Matthew 18:21)

‘If anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.’ (Colossians 3:13)

These are powerful passages and speak to the gift and power of forgiveness. Forgiveness is one of those cherished virtues, a key pillar of Christian life. We want to be able to forgive and often feel like we ‘should’ forgive.  And yet, there are times that our lived experience is not so straightforward, and forgiveness is not this easy thing to do or experience. Forgiveness becomes an obligation and burden more than a life-giving promise. We are wary of cheap grace. We pick out individual Bible verses without looking at their whole context. We recall childhood phrases without asking what they might mean for the deeper hurts in life. A word like forgiveness can become a trite word, almost meaningless, unless we delve deeper into its full nuance and complexity. We just sang a hymn that said, ‘God, give me time – time to learn the words I find so hard to say, the forgiving words, time to deal with words that threaten and destroy, time to meet your transforming Word.’ (VT 144, v.1)  Rather than a quick easy thing, I wonder if understanding and experiencing forgiveness is something that takes time, struggle, contemplation, prayer, and maybe only comes as gift, rather than obligation.

Today’s Biblical story gives us an opportunity to explore forgiveness in a deeper way. On the surface, the story of Joseph and his brothers reconciling is an ideal story, one of those ‘they lived happily ever after’ perfect stories, where everything works out how it should and the blessings of God abound. But if you read the whole long narrative, chapters 37-50, or even just today’s chapters 42-46, you realize it is a much more complex and nuanced story than that. We certainly can give thanks for where the story ends – the reconciliation and forgiveness that happens within a family, but it is a long journey to get there, with the up and down rollercoaster of emotions that Janet referenced last Sunday. It is a story that takes seriously the necessity and gift of time.

Let’s do a bit of a review here. Our Joseph and his brothers story began 2 Sundays ago with Chapter 37 – a story of family conflict and violence and the original deep offense, when the 17 year old multi coloured coat arrogant dreamer was almost killed by his brothers before being thrown into a Pit and then sold to Midianite traders. Last Sunday we heard about all the ups and downs for Joseph in Egypt, in and out of slavery and prison until unexpectantly rising to power and trust and influence with the Pharaoh, preparing the country for 7 years of bounty and 7 years of famine. It says Joseph was 30 when he began to serve Pharaoh, and he would have been close to 40 when his brothers first arrive in Egypt looking for food. Today’s story itself takes place over a few years, so one commentator names that it took 27 years until the whole family, including father Jacob, was re-united in Egypt to end our story. Talk about taking time. This morning our Junior Youth did a fantastic job of sharing the story of the brothers coming from Canaan to Egypt, of Joseph secretly recognizing them but testing them, and sending them back home for youngest brother Benjamin, these back and forth nuanced scenes that read like they come out of a Shakespeare play, with Joseph finally revealing himself, and these powerful scenes of reunion, reconciliation, hugging and tears, and forgiveness. When Amanda and I met to plan this service, the first thing we did was read all of these chapters out loud from the Biblical text – at least a half hour drawn out reading with even more nuance and details than can be shared on a Sunday morning. I encourage you to read this at home.

When Amanda and I had finished reading and listening to this whole story, one of the main questions we asked was about the nature of forgiveness, and who had to forgive who. There are journeys of regret and forgiveness and remorse and repentance for everyone. This is not just a simple forgive, forget, kiss and make up story. I’ll touch briefly on a few characters before focusing on Joseph. You have this group of brothers who committed the original violence against Joseph. They thought they had got rid of their problem once and for all, and yet years later they are still living with the guilt and remembrance of those acts. When Joseph first tells the brothers to go back home and get younger brother Benjamin, while leaving Simeon as collateral, it is the oldest brother Reuben who speaks sharply to his brothers saying ‘Did I not tell you not to wrong the boy way back then? But you would not listen. So now there comes a reckoning for his blood.’ (Gen 42:22). He is still blaming. He has not forgiven his brothers, even as he must live with his own complicit role way back then. Back home with Father Jacob, it is Reuben who steps up and says that Jacob can kill his own 2 sons if they don’t bring Benjamin back alive. Is he starting to face up, deal with and claim his own responsibility? Then there is middle child Judah, the brother who had the idea of sending Joseph off with the traders, who offers his own life to his Dad as surety or guarantee for bringing along Benjamin to Egypt. So much of both brothers angst still has to do with their relationship with Jacob, their father. As Judah says, ‘I will bear the blame in the sight of my father all my life.’ Then, back for a second time in Egypt, when Joseph has planted the silver cup with Benjamin, it is Judah again who jumps in and pleads with Joseph and offers his own life in place of brother Benjamin. It is an act of contrition, repentance and penitence. Underneath, I wonder if Judah, and Reuben alike, are on a journey of trying to forgive themselves. Then there is father Jacob. He carries the complicated relationships he needs to sort out with all of his sons. He carries his own guilt and shame – can he forgive himself? And there is this lifelong wrestling with God. Does Jacob need to forgive God for what has all happened in life – lots of us can blame God and hold a grudge with God about our lives – and does he need to feel the grace and compassion and love of God before he can move on? When Jacob is finally told the truth about Joseph and they are ready to move to Egypt, he immediately offers sacrifices to God and hears another vision from God, reminding him of the promises and covenant made to him and his ancestors. He makes the move and lives out his life in Egypt, at peace.

So what about Joseph and his journey? The deep offense against him by his brothers happens at a young age. It sets in motion the whole roller coast of events and emotions in the years to follow. There is in interesting verse after he has risen to power with the Pharaoh but before the years of famine. He has a son and names this firstborn Manasseh, the word for ‘forget’, because ‘God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father’s house.’ The second son he names Ephraim, fruitful, ‘For God has made me fruitful in the land of my misfortune. (Genesis 41:51-52) Is this his version of forgive and forget? Put that experience behind him and forget it all and move on. It seems to work. Life is good. But then these long forgotten brothers and family show back up in his life one day. His one advantage is that they don’t recognize him – he holds all the cards. His first gut response is to speak harshly to them and then accuse them of being spies and throw them all into jail for 3 days. Then he starts to test them, to hold them accountable, to search for the truth. Hold Simeon as ransom. Send for Benjamin. Send the rest off with the money they paid hidden back in their sacks. There is no instant forgiveness here, a simple letting go of years of pain. What had been forgotten has been drudged back up as it is wont to do. But in private it says Joseph wept – things are starting to stir. It is a few years before the brothers return, with the promised youngest brother Benjamin and the money. They kept their word. Joseph wants to know all about his Father and on seeing Benjamin hurries out to a private room to weep once again. There is another round of testing – sending them home with their grain, but again with money in each sack and his Silver Cup with Benjamin. They are pursued and arrested and Joseph watches how the brothers will now treat the other youngest brother. Will they repeat the pattern they had with him?  It is only after they defend Benjamin and offer their own lives in his stead, a sign of their honesty, that Joseph can no longer control himself, makes himself known to his brothers and weeps so loud that the whole house of Pharaoh could hear him. I find it interesting that Joseph then used God language – it was God who sent me before you to preserve your life and keep alive a remnant on earth. He showers his brothers with gifts and sends them home once again to get his Father Jacob, but not before weeping on Benjamin’s neck. He weeps again when Jacob arrives in Egypt and the whole family is reunited.

Amanda and I counted that Joseph weeps 6 times through these chapters. Something deep is happening within Joseph’s spirit. When you weep, you lose a certain kind of inner control of your emotions – all those things that were supposedly forgotten bubble to the surface and twirl around your heart. Joseph is working through his pain, his abandonment, his resentments, his loyalties, his family baggage – all in real time, family hidden in front of him. This is hard work.  This is emotional and spiritual work. But it is also a release, a letting go, a melting of what has held him hostage in his own life. Yes, he is beginning to forgive his brothers, but it starts with his own self work. It starts with forgiving himself, a theme we are hearing in each of the characters. This is the end of the story right? All tied up in a happy bow. Joseph, his brothers, his father and all the rest of the family are now together in Egypt and they survive the famine and thrive; they are fruitful and multiply. Father Jacob himself lives 17 more years, and blesses all his sons before he dies, the 12 tribes of Israel. Joseph weeps at his death. But then there is one last scene. With Jacob gone, the brothers approach Joseph worried that he still might carry a grudge and will pay them back in full for all the wrong they did, and they beg him for forgiveness for the wrong they did in harming him. This is 17 years after the great reunion. Not all is yet resolved, even if all has been peaceful. One more time Joseph weeps, and speaking kindly to them, assures them of his forgiveness – ‘Do not be afraid! Am I in the place of God?’ Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good. I myself will provide for you and your little ones.’ (Genesis 50:15-21)

The story of Joseph and his family is a remarkable one, and such a human one. It is filled with so much intrigue and levels of meaning. It is a story of forgiveness – but also of confession, repentance, contrition, accountability, apology, reconciliation, justice, moments of human vulnerability. It is a story with much weeping. It is a story of release and letting go. It is a story of forgiveness that could not be forced or hurried. It is a story of the gift of time. ‘God, give me time to learn the words I find so hard to say, the loving words, the forgiving words.’ Ultimately it is a story of God’s gifts and grace that come in unexpected and surprising ways.

These themes, these stories, these human interactions are a part of our lives too. We have each hurt others and been hurt. We each carry our own baggage – in family, in relationships, in community, in church, in our lives with others. We know how tricky forgiveness can be. Marie Fortune was one of the first to write openly about the complexity of forgiveness in her book ‘Sexual Violence – The Unmentionable Sin’ (Pilgrim Press, New York, 1983), written already in 1983. She counters the impetus so often in the church to easy forgiveness. She names the importance of accountability and the pre-requisite of justice, confession, repentance and restitution. She acknowledges the messiness involved when these elements are absent, when face to face resolution is not possible or safe, when an offender has died, when much is left unresolved. What I find most helpful, and why I keep going back to some of Fortune’s writings, is that she names forgiveness then primarily as the gift of letting go. Forgiveness is not so much about the other person, but about one’s own journey and release.  She writes ‘Forgiveness is not merely an act of will. One cannot just decide “I will forgive” because someone else suggests one should forgive… For Christians, forgiving is one means of letting go and disarming the power that the offense has over a victim’s life. I will no longer allow this experience to dominate my life. I will not let it continue to make me feel bad about myself. I will not let it limit my ability to love and trust others in my life… Forgiving means letting go of the anger… I can never forget what happened. But I chose to put it here and leave it behind. If I ever need to recall it, I know where it is. But I refuse to carry the pain any longer.’ (p. 208-209)

This is the kind of forgiveness I see in our story of Joseph and his brothers – the gift of letting go, a gift allowed through time and the grace of God. Each of the characters has a journey of forgiving themselves, of letting go of what has bound them and controlled their lives, and in letting go, opening themselves to the new gifts and possibilities that come through God’s grace. May we be given this gift in our lives. ‘God, give me time to meet your Word, transforming as I go my little world, my larger world, by all I do and know.’ (VT 144, v.3)  Amen.

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