I’m not much for theme park rides. I’m definitely not a fan of rides that spin, or swing back and forth. Those are likely to induce nausea pretty quickly. But I have been known to ride a roller coaster now and then, and even enjoy it. There is something fun and exciting about that climb to the very pinnacle and then a drop down into the valley, followed by some twists and turns and some more ups and downs, maybe even turning right upside down before gliding to a stop at the end, hair all messed up and heart pounding.
Well buckle up people! Fasten your seatbelts! Joseph’s story is a bit of a roller coaster ride! Just when we think he has climbed out of the pit of despair, he is thrown back down into another one. Only to rise again to unimaginable heights by the time he turned 30 years old! More than once his entire life is turned upside down by betrayal. He is tossed about by forces and circumstances he cannot control. It’s a dizzying, stomach churning ride, and it’s not over yet. We still have the conclusion of his story next week, and there are lots of twists and turns yet to come! So buckle up!
Is it any wonder that this epic story is so often adapted for the stage or the screen? That there are so many sing able tunes in the musical version? Go, go, go Joseph….! Any Dream Will Do. Coat of Many Colours. It has all the elements of a great drama–villains and heroes, conflict, jealousy, betrayal, secrets, mistakes, despair, transformation, and redemption, and a thoroughly satisfying ending (but that is for next week!). It is a full value for your money story.
At the end of last week’s story, Joseph was thrown into a pit by his brothers and then sold in haste to some passing traders headed for Egypt. His father Jacob, deceiving into thinking Joseph was dead, was overcome by grief and refused to be comforted.
Imagine Joseph, a teenager, taken as a prisoner from the land of Canaan, his home, all the way to Egypt–a long journey, mostly through a dry, barren desert landscape. This is a young man who already knows grief; his mother died when his youngest brother Benjamin was born. Now, betrayed by his brothers, torn away from his father, he is treated like a commodity to be sold for profit in Egypt.
We pick up the story of Joseph this week, when the traders sell him as a slave to Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh’s guards. What of his dreams now!? Remember those dreams where his brother’s sheaves of wheat bow down to his sheaf of wheat, and where the sun, moon and stars bow down to him? What of those dreams now?! This must feel like the pit of despair for Joseph.
But then something interesting happens. The very next line of the story says, The Lord was with Joseph (Gen 39: 2). He was not alone. God saw him. God heard him. God knew his anguish. I think we often have an image of God above us, reaching down to pull us out of the pit of despair, or maybe cheering us on from afar–it’s OK. You can do it. Even worse, maybe we perceive that God is actually punishing us when we end up in the pit of despair. But this image is different. Here God is with him at his lowest point. God is there, alongside him in his suffering in his pit of despair. Is that what gives Joseph the strength to go on? Is that what helps him put one foot in front of the other? Does that help him to remember his belovedness, his inner dignity? Yes. I think so.
Joseph quickly earns the respect of his master, Potiphar. Joseph must have been honest and trustworthy. He must have served with integrity because he found favour with Potiphar, and whatever he did was successful. As the text says, the Lord caused all that he did to prosper in his hands (Gen 39: 2-3). So Potiphar made Joseph overseer in his house and over all that he had…he left all that he had in Joseph’s charge: and, with him there, [Potiphar] had no concern for anything (Gen 39: 5-6). This doesn’t sound like the role of a slave anymore. This sounds more like an executive secretary or administrative assistant. Maybe Joseph is the golden boy after all! You can’t keep this guy down! He just seems destined for greatness, right!? Just like in his dream. Not so fast! This is a rollercoaster ride, remember!
Here we come to another ugly part of the story. Potiphar’s wife is attracted to Joseph. She tries to seduce him. Day after day she propositions him. But he refuses, what he calls a sin against God. Nor will he consent out of respect for Potiphar (Gen 39:9-10). After all he has been through, Joseph is now the victim of sexual harassment. And it gets worse. One false accusation later by Potiphar’s wife, and Joseph is thrown into prison, betrayed again, disgraced and humiliated. Back in the pit of despair. Alone. Abandoned.
If you have seen any movie or theatre productions of this story, you will recognize this as Joseph’s lowest point.
In “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat”, he sings these words:
Close every door to me, hide all the world from me,
bar all the windows, and shut out the light;
do what you want with me, hate me, and laugh at me,
darken my daytime and torture my night…
Close every door to me. Keep those I love from me.
Just give me a number instead of my name
forget all about me and let me decay.
I do not matter, I’m only 1 person,
destroy me completely, then throw me away.
He has hit rock bottom. The floor of this jail is as low as he can go.
But then he sings one more line:
Children of Israel are never alone. At first in a tentative voice and then in a voice of longing, in a voice of hope, and finally in a voice of confidence. Children of Israel are never alone.
In his young life it seems, Joseph has learned about Yahweh. Probably from his mother Rachel, before she died, and from the other mothers, Leah, Bilhah and Zilpah, who were part of the family system. Maybe from his sister, Dinah. And from his father Jacob, inheritor of the covenant with Yahweh, handed down through the generations of his family–from Abram and Sarai, to Isaac and Rebecca, and then to Jacob and his family. Through this family system and tradition, Joseph has absorbed the promise that God is with him. So even in his darkest hour, he encounters this God of compassion, mercy and love. In the prison of his despair, here comes that line again: But the Lord was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love (Gen 39: 21). Steadfast love. In Hebrew, the word is hesed. It means steadfast love, mercy and faithfulness. Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann calls it “tenacious solidarity.” It is a pretty important concept in the Old Testament; Hesed is found 250 times there; with over half of those references in the Psalms.
Throughout its history this Israelite family will come to know Yahweh as a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and fourth generation (Ex 34:6-7). Notice the distinction: hesed–steadfast love for the thousandth generation–in other words overflowing and unconditional, whereas justice and consequences are limited to the third and fourth generation.
Isn’t that what we all want? One who sees us and hears us. One who won’t give up on us. One who is with us in our pain, who has our back. That is my hope for all of us. That in our valleys, when we are in the pit of despair, we know that we are not alone; we know hesed–God’s steadfast love. And I hope that as we explore the story of Joseph we encounter something of that hesed–steadfast love.
Even in prison, even in his bleakest hour, Joseph knows hesed–steadfast love. The text goes on to say that God gave him favour in sight of the chief jailer to the point where that chief jailer put all the prisoners under Joseph’s care, and didn’t worry about anything that was under Joseph’s care. Whatever he did, the Lord made it prosper (Gen. 39: 22-23).
While in prison Joseph gets a reputation for being able to accurately interpret the dreams of Pharaoh’s chief baker and cupbearer, who are imprisoned with him for a while, but when the cupbearer is restored to his work in the palace, he forgets all about Joseph for two whole years.
Until Pharaoh has a troubling dream: seven sleek fat cows come up out of the Nile and graze on its banks. Then seven ugly, thin cows come up out of the Nile and eat the sleek, fat cows, but when they have eaten them they are still as ugly as before. The dream has a second part: seven plump, healthy ears of grain are growing on one stalk, and then seven withered, blighted, thin ears of grain sprout up after them, and swallow up the good ears of grain. Pharaoh calls for all the magicians and wise guides in Egypt but there is no one who can interpret the dream. Finally Pharaoh’s cupbearer remembers that guy in prison who interpreted his own dream. He tells Pharaoh about Joseph, and Pharaoh calls for Joseph’s help.
The Joseph who emerges from prison has changed. He is not the same arrogant, self absorbed dreamer we saw earlier in the story. Over those difficult years it seems that something shifts inside of Joseph. His suffering could have left him bitter, angry, and vengeful. And he will have to wrestle with these feelings yet, as we will see next week. But somehow it seems that his suffering has seasoned him, humbled him. Still confident, and able to understand and interpret Pharaoh’s dream, but quick to give God the credit for the insight and wisdom. Quick to see his gift as a blessing from God.
Joseph, confident that God has revealed what is about to happen, explains that the dream means there will be seven years of good crops, abundance, and plenty in Egypt followed by seven years of drought and famine when all of the bounty will be forgotten. He advises Pharaoh to select someone discerning and wise to have authority over the land of Egypt. That person will need to oversee a plan to save a portion of the produce of the land during the good years, and store it up so that it can be reserved and shared in the seven years of famine.
Pharaoh, recognizing the Spirit of God in Joseph, appoints Joseph to be that overseer–his second in command. At thirty years of age, Joseph has risen from the pit of despair to the heights of power and authority over Egypt. He is given new clothes, Pharaoh’s signet ring and a gold chain. He gets to ride in a chariot. People bow down to him. Talk about a roller coaster ride!
And so he sets about to gather the bounty of the land in the seven good years. I wonder what kind of resistance he faced? Did he encounter those who just wanted to revel in their good fortune during those good years? Eat, drink and be merry? Celebrate and splurge with no thought for the future. But Joseph was focused on the task. I suspect he had to be a strong leader to get the people on board. And so he stored up grain in such abundance–like the sand of the sea–that he stopped measuring it: it was beyond measure (Gen 41:49). And when the seven years of famine came Joseph opened up the storehouses…and all the world came to Joseph in Egypt to buy grain because the famine became severe throughout the world (Gen 41:56-57).
One of the questions I often wrestle with is what is the nature of power? Who has it? Who doesn’t? How do people come into power? Can power be a good thing, or is it inevitable that power will become corrupted? Joseph suddenly finds himself with a great deal of power, privilege, influence and authority. It seems like he was born for just such a time as this. Did he earn it? It certainly seems like he has grown into a person of integrity. He has proven himself to be trustworthy, discerning and wise. Even Pharaoh recognizes the spirit of God in him (Gen 41:38). I suspect this is one thing that makes Joseph a good leader. He is open to the spirit of God in him. This is what allows him to understand and interpret dreams. To get in sync with what God is doing. To give God credit for his gifts. To take action that others might not have appreciated. And it seems that openness to God was deep within him, even as a teenager, when he received that first dream about his brother’s sheaves of wheat bowing down to his sheaf of wheat. But he needed time and experience to mature, to lose some of his arrogance.
Joseph also learns to trust and rely on God, especially in his darkest days. He offers his gifts into God’s hands and I think this also makes him a good leader. He gives what he has. He shares what he is good at. He offers his assets in the service of the greater good. He offers what he has in his personal storehouses, just like the abundance of grain that he has in storehouses all over Egypt. So we might ask, what do we have in our storehouses? What have we stored up over the good years of our history that we can share for the greater good?
And I think Joseph knows something about suffering and compassion. This makes him a good leader too. Those who have been seasoned by suffering, grief and loss, if they don’t become bitter and disillusioned, often become more compassionate, less rigid, more forgiving and less judgmental. He has experienced God’s steadfast love-hesed–which makes him more compassionate and merciful himself when it comes to preserving life and seeking the greater good in those years of famine. (Next week we will see if that compassion can even carry him through a reunion with his brothers….stay tuned).
There is a death and resurrection motif here. Both in Joseph, rising from the pit of despair to the heights of power, and also in the land of Egypt, after the 7 years of debilitating, devastating drought there is food, there is life, there is hope. Biblical scholars describe Joseph as a pre-figure of Jesus. We can tick off many boxes when we think of how these two are alike. Both betrayed. Both falsely accused. Both abandoned, Joseph by his 11 brothers, and Jesus by his remaining 11 disciples. Both enduring terrible suffering, both experiencing despair. And both experiencing a resurrection: Joseph from the pit of despair to the heights of power and the opportunity to save the world from famine; Jesus from death on a cross to new life, releasing the world from the grip of destructive powers. Both sustained by God’s steadfast love.
This is the story of hesed–of tenacious solidarity. When things are at their worst, God is with us, and shows us steadfast love, new life and new hope. So these stones, here at the front of the sanctuary. What do they mean? All through our fall series we have been adding to this rock pile on the front table. We started with some foundation stones and then we placed stones here for each of the characters so far in the Genesis stories we have been exploring. We placed stones for Abram and Sarai, called by God to leave what was familiar and go to a land that God would show them. We placed a stone for Isaac, their miracle child. We placed stones for Isaac and Rebecca’s twin sons, Esau and Jacob, those feuding rivals who finally made peace with each other after an epic fight that carried on for years. Last week we placed a stone for Joseph, favoured son of Jacob and Rachel, with his special coat of many colours and his dreams of greatness, who was betrayed by his brothers, thrown into a pit, and sold into slavery in Egypt. Today we placed another Joseph stone, to recognize the change in him as he rose to become the wise and responsible leader to guide Egypt through its cruel years of famine.
These stones are helping us to track a story. They are helping us track the promise that God made so long ago to Abram and Sarai:
- that they would be the ancestors of a great nation–descendants as numerous as the grains of dust on the earth, and the stars in the sky.
- That they would have a land, a place to call home forever, with resources to sustain them and abundance to share
- That they would be a blessing; other nations would be drawn to them and blessed through them
Through all the twists and turns, each generation of the family found a way to track the promise. Wherever they went in their wandering, winding path they built altars of the stones that they found there. They marked places along their journey. Holy ground. Naming a God who sees and hears, a God who is in this place, God who is with them all along the way even if the way was not clear. As they built their altars, they started to build a track record of God’s faithfulness that sustained them and helped them to live by promise and hope. Many times the promise has faltered. Many times the covenant got stretched, twisted, frayed, tangled up and nearly broken. But it has endured. This is a story of faithfulness. This is a story of hesed–steadfast love.
So, when our children ask us, what do these stones mean, what do we have to tell them? This is our story too. We certainly have found ourselves alongside these characters, identifying with so many of their life experiences–their impatience, fear, jealousy, rivalry, power struggles, Trying to take things into their own hands. Make the promise play out on their terms.
When you reflect back on your life so far, what is the story you have to tell? Where did you build altars along the way from the stones that you found there? What places are holy ground in your journey? Where were the stopping points where you met the God who sees and hears? What are the breathtaking encounters you had with Yahweh? When did you experience hesed, the steadfast love of God with you in your own pit of despair?
When our children ask us, what do these stones mean, let’s point back down the path we have come and show them all the altars along the way. Let’s tell them the story of hesed–God’s tenacious solidarity. Let’s look back on the track record of God’s faithfulness from generation to generation. This row of altars along our path is our story of gratitude and thanksgiving. Not just for one day a year when we sing our thanksgiving hymns, and decorate the sanctuary with the bounty of the harvest. But we can live from a place of gratitude every day.
And so when our children ask us, what do these stones mean, let’s not only point back down the path we have come, but let’s also look forward into the future, even if we can’t always see the way. And let’s tap into the hesed–that steadfast love that is stored up for us. We can open up the storehouses of God’s bounty and share it–storehouses overflowing with abundance so great that we can’t even measure it, so strong and powerful that suffering, despair and death cannot overcome it. In the words of Clarence Cachagee, local Indigenous elder and teacher, let’s become the best ancestors we can be. Let’s be discerning and wise, for the greater good for the next generations to come.