As We Forgive

Matthew 18:21-35

September 14, 2014

            As we prepare to hear the proclamation this morning, I'd like for you to consider two questions.  First, who do you need to forgive?  Second, for what and by whom do you need to be forgiven? Please hold these two questions in tension as we hear God's word for us.

            We are a culture who likes to keep score.  Tit for tat.  Quid pro quo. If you do me a favor, then I feel obligated to return it at some point.  If I invite you to come over for dinner, then when will you invite me over?  If you hurt me, then I’ve got a freebie hurt coming. We keep score when it comes to favors; we keep score when it comes to being harmed.  Keeping score permeates all aspects of our lives.  It's certainly in our politics.  It's prevalent in the media, in entertainment, education, business.  It is built into our warfare. 

            St. Thomas Aquinas wrote extensively about Just War Theory.  What conditions might make a war necessary?  And if it is necessary, what would make it just?  Just War Theory maintains that if a war is to be considered just, then it must adhere to certain criteria.  It must be declared by a competent authority.  It should be for a just cause.  It must be fought with the right intention, such as saving the world from evil.  It must have a reasonable chance of success.  According to this theory, it is never right or moral or just to shed innocent blood for a lost cause.  Engaging in warfare should always be a last resort.  It should only happen when other avenues have been thoroughly explored.  There are moral limits as to how the war is to be fought.  And it should be proportional.  The response should never be greater than the provocation. 

            Proportional is a key word.  What is a proportional response?  If Washington State should declare its independence from the rest of the country, determined to become the sovereign nation of Starbucks, and the rebels leading the way of secession stage a non-violent coup, then the law of proportional response dictates that the retaliation, and there will be retaliation, should be in kind.  Therefore bombing the state off the map would not help, nor would it be proportional.  I realize that I’ve given you a silly example to illustrate the just war theory’s version of quid pro quo, but as I see it, it is another way of keeping score. 

            So far all I've referred to in this keeping score, keeping track culture of ours is in terms of favors granted or attacks accomplished.  But it would seem – at least from an initial reading of our passage this morning – the idea of keeping score or keeping track was not foreign to the culture that Jesus and the disciples lived in.  It would seem that even forgiveness has boundaries and limits.  Or at least, it should have. 

            In the verses that precede ours today, the verses that we looked at last week, Jesus gives the disciples clear instructions on how to deal with someone who has sinned.  Jesus' recommended course of discipline is not about punishment so much as it is about building and strengthening community.  It is about relationship.

            Now Peter takes it a step further.  Okay, Jesus, you've told us about how to confront someone in the church who has sinned against me.  Now, how many times am I expected to forgive this person?  How many times do I have to be willing to let go of the harm done to me?  Seven times? 

            In rabbinic tradition, Peter was setting a high bar by suggesting that he willingly forgive someone who has harmed him seven times.  To forgive seven times would have been seen as going above and beyond anything that the Law required.  So it looks as though Peter is already trying to be generous.  But Jesus' response to this question blows Peter's generosity out of the water.  Not seven times, but seventy-seven times.  Another way this is translated is seventy times seven.  I know that there are people who like to do the math.  Add it up, multiply it, calculate it.  What is the final number that Jesus refers to when it comes to forgiveness?  But I think this is the opposite of the point that Jesus is trying to make.  When it comes to forgiveness, we have stop doing the math. 

            To further illustrate this, Jesus tells a rather disturbing parable.  This isn't just any kind of parable.  This is a kingdom parable.  The kingdom of heaven may be compared to ... fill-in-the-blank.  Jesus fills in this blank with the story of a despot king who decides to settle accounts with his slaves.  While it is unlikely that any king would ever lend a slave one coin, this particular ruler has lent this particular slave an enormous sum of money.  The slave owes 10,000 talents.  This huge debt would roughly equal 150,000 hours of labor.  In other words, the slave is never going to be able to pay it off in his lifetime.  It was ludicrous on the king's part to even think that would be possible.  Of course the slave can't pay.  In response the king ordered him to be sold, along with his entire family -- wife, children, everyone.  The slave falls down in front of the king and pleads for mercy.  In what appears to be a total contradiction of character, the king grants it.  He forgives the debt. 

            You would think that this slave who has been forgiven such a great debt, who has been shown so much grace and mercy, would immediately want to bestow the same grace and mercy on someone else.  That’s not what happens.  No sooner than the slave leaves the king’s chambers, he runs into another slave who owes the first slave money.  This debt is relatively small.  Especially in comparison with what the first slave owed the king.  But when the second indebted slave asked for mercy, the one who had been shown so much grace refuses to extend it in return.  Instead he has this fellow thrown into prison.  The other slaves witnessing this are horrified, and they report it to the king.  The king is furious and demands to know why the slave, having been shown mercy, can’t show mercy to someone else.  Then he hands the slave over to be tortured until he can pay his debt.  Knowing that his debt to the king is insurmountable, this is really a lifetime sentence.

            Disturbing parable indeed.  However, we have to be careful to read this as parable and not allegory. If we look at it allegorically, then each aspect of the story correlates to God and heaven exactly.  I cannot see God as a despot sultan whose first response is to not only condemn the one who owes so much, but also his family. However, saying that does not lessen the parable’s unsettling challenge to the disciples and to us.  We are shown great mercy.  We have our debts wiped out.  Shouldn’t we also show that mercy to others?  As we are forgiven, should we not also forgive? 

            Perhaps you are thinking that this is a prime example of quid pro quo, of keeping score.  It’s just about something positive like forgiveness, rather than favors or war.  Yet Jesus essentially tells Peter that the number of times he should forgive someone is incalculable.  It isn’t about keeping score, it is about being willing to forgive as many times as necessary because the relationship, the community is more important than keeping score.  As one commentator put it, Jesus’ response to Peter reveals that forgiveness is not just a nice thing to do, but a “theological necessity” when it comes the community of God. 

            Forgiveness is a “theological necessity.”  That sounds wonderful, but it doesn’t make it any less hard to do.  In fact I think forgiveness is one of the hardest things we are called to do.  I don’t think there are adequate words to describe how hard forgiveness is.  I also know that this text can be used against someone who is caught in an abusive relationship.  If we are supposed to forgive without ceasing, does that mean that a woman who is being beaten by her husband should just keep forgiving him in order to maintain relationship?  I don’t think Jesus would want this, and I don’t that’s really forgiving.  Sometimes the most forgiving, the most loving thing we can do is walk away from a relationship that’s causing that much damage. 

            But that doesn’t change what Jesus says about forgiveness.  We are to forgive and forgive and forgive again.  We are to forgive no matter how hard it is, because like love, forgiveness is the foundation of relationship – with God and with one another.  We have to stop keeping score, stop doing the math and forgive. 

            Forgiveness, like love, is also not about feeling or emotion.  If I waited to forgive someone until I felt forgiving, then I would never do it.  No, I think forgiveness is an intellectual exercise first.  You have to decide to forgive.  You have to be intentional about forgiving.  Perhaps what Jesus is saying is that when it comes to forgiving, you forgive over and over again until your heart catches up. 

            This past week I discovered a TED talk that featured two mothers.  One is a mother who lost her son in the World Trade Center on September 11.  The second woman is the mother of Zacarias Moussaoui, who was convicted for his role in carrying out the attacks and is serving a life sentence.  These two women met, along with other parents of those who were killed on that terrible day, because Zacarias’ mother wanted to share their grief with them.  She didn’t come to justify her son’s actions.  But she was a mother who had lost two children as children; and now her surviving son was also lost. She grieved with them, she empathized with them.  They grieved with her, they empathized with her.  All of them chose forgiveness.  Out of that forgiveness, an unlikely but powerful relationship was forged.  They stopped keeping score.

            I began this sermon with two questions, posed not just to all of you but to myself as well.  Who do I need to forgive?  Who do I hope will forgive me?  When it comes to forgiveness, how am I keeping score?  A third question to ask maybe how have I experienced God’s forgiveness and mercy and grace?  What debts has God wiped out on my behalf?  What grace have I been shown?  I suspect that it is more than I could ever repay.  But the good news is that God doesn’t keep score.  So when it comes to forgiving, let us all forgive and forgive and forgive again until our hearts finally catch up.  Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”  Amen.

           

Two or Three

Matthew 18:15-20

Season of Peace

In an hour or so from now, I predict an interesting phenomenon is going to occur all around Shawnee.  Drive by any church and you'll see it in action.  To be more specific, drive by any church parking lot and you'll see this phenomenon in full bloom.  No, I don't mean the rush of people trying to get to their cars and hit the restaurants before the other church folks get there; although that will  probably happen as well.  But sweep your eyes across any church parking lot and see if there isn't at least one small group of people in conversation.  

It’s certainly true that this little knot of folks could be talking about anything.  But I would wager that many of them will be talking about church events.  It could be last minute preparations for the Women's circle or the upcoming Trustees meeting.  They may be sharing an update on another member who has been in the hospital, or filling in the details of their mother-in-law's illness.  Perhaps they're laughing about something funny that happened during worship.  My point is that I think that church folks are engaging in conversations like this in practically every church parking lot in Shawnee.  I would also lay money that this isn't limited to our city, but that it's happening in church parking lots all over -- the state, the country, etc.  A dear minister friend of mine started a church blog a few years ago that was devoted specifically to the multitude of church events that were happening in his congregation.  He titled the blog something like, "In the Parking Lot," because, as he told me, that's where the work of the church really happens; in the parking lot.  

There's nothing inherently wrong with these sub groups that happen in the parking lot.  But along with the topics of conversation that I already described, I would also guess that some of these parking lot discussions are about a problem or a conflict that’s happening in the church.  I would speculate that someone in that small group of people is unhappy about something or someone.  I suspect that in many of these informal confabs, battle lines are being drawn.  The conflict could have something to do with the pastor.  It could have something to do with another church member.  It could be about a controversial policy or procedure.  It could be about anything, but when conflicts and disputes within a congregation are being discussed in the parking lot, they become dangerous.  They become dangerous because if the conflict is being talked about out there, it's not being talked about in here.  It's dangerous because I think it leads to doing the opposite of what Jesus prescribes in these verses in chapter 18 of Matthew's gospel.

Although I don't generally like to use the word "prescribe" when it comes to scripture, in this case I think this word is applicable.  Jesus is giving the disciples practical advice about how to deal with conflict.  If another member of the church, of the community, sins against you, go to that person alone.  Address the sin, address the issue.  If that doesn't work, then bring some of the members as witnesses.  If that still doesn't work, then the issue needs to go before the whole church.  But if that doesn't solve the problem, then the person who has done the "sin" should be treated as a tax collector, a Gentile, an outsider.  

This is conflict management in clear, concise, concrete steps.  If a member of the church sins against you, this is what you do.  Sounds easy.  But is it?  There is some debate about whether the words "against you," actually belong in verse 15.  Several scholars I read pointed out that some of the oldest manuscripts of Matthew's gospel leave out those two words.  That changes the emphasis somewhat.  This conflict may not only be of a personal nature between two people.  It could also address a sin that this member commits, perhaps a sin that is against the whole community.  I believe that both emphases are important, but for our purposes I'm going to leave in the words, "against you."  It's not that I think we, as a community of faith, shouldn’t address the issue of a sin that affects all of us, but it seems to me that it would be a slippery slope to go from addressing a sin that has occurred to looking for one that might.  We've probably all encountered someone who has an eagle eye for other people’s supposed sins.  That kind of overeager watchfulness becomes about judgment and legalism more than directly dealing with conflict.  I don’t believe that’s what Jesus was trying to address.  

What he was saying, as I read it, is that conflict cannot be ignored.  If conflict happens -- when conflict happens -- if a sin against you occurs, address the person in private.  But if that doesn’t work, then bring in witnesses.  Again, I think we need to be careful about how we interpret this.  Bringing in witnesses isn’t about shaming the other person.  It isn’t about humiliating this brother or sister in the faith.  Witnesses can protect both parties.  Witnesses can help to keep anger in check.  Witnesses can make sure that the accusations against one or both persons aren’t exaggerated.  

But if these first two approaches still don’t work in resolving the conflict, then the whole church must become involved.  And if that doesn’t work, then the person should be treated as a Gentile, as a tax collector, as an “other.”  I think it is these words of Jesus that give most of us pause.  Does this mean we should kick someone out of the church?  Should we take it to the extreme of shunning?  That seems contrary to every aspect of our understanding of what it means to be the church.  But here’s an interesting thought from one of the commentators who contribute to WorkingPreacher.org.  Jesus had a prolific ministry with Gentiles and tax collectors.  Perhaps what Jesus is saying is that sometimes we can’t bring about reconciliation on our own.  Ultimately it is up to God to do this.  I’m not convinced that this is about shunning someone, although sometimes people have to leave the congregation in order for healing to occur, as much as it is about recognizing that the offending person is still a child of God and in God’s merciful hands.  

One last exegetical note; this passage does not occur in a vacuum.  It is not a solitary word from Jesus.  Before and after, Jesus is speaking to the disciples about love and grace and forgiveness.  Immediately preceding are Jesus’ words about the shepherd with 100 sheep.  If even one sheep is lost, the shepherd will search for it relentlessly, even though there are 99 sheep that are safe in the fold.  Immediately after this prescription for peacemaking is Jesus’ response to Peter about forgiving someone until you lose count.  The more I read this passage, especially in light of its context, I believe that Jesus preaches this way of discipline not to break down community, but to build it up.  

Community, specifically the community of God in Christ is at the heart of this passage.

 As I said before, these steps that Jesus preaches sound simple.  Yet the parking lot syndrome continues to occur.  Let me make it clear: when it comes to discussing painful or difficult issues in the parking lot, no one is more culpable than I am.  Clergy are not immune to taking conflicts to the parking lot instead of dealing with them as Jesus taught.  I am no exception.  But if we have these words of Jesus, why do we continue to go the other direction when it comes to our conflicts?  I think that if we’re honest, if I’m honest, dealing with a conflict out there is far easier to do than it is in here.  Conflict doesn’t just make me uncomfortable, it scares me.  I avoid it all costs.  I avoid it, though, to my detriment.  When conflict arises, as it inevitably does, I may resist taking it to the parking lot, but I also don’t say anything.  Does that help?  Nope.  It just festers, and I become resentful.  So much so, that I either finally explode at the person or just break off relationship.  Perhaps some of you have taken that same course.  Yet Jesus says that if a member of the church sins against you, then go to that person.  It may be scary.  It may be uncomfortable.  It may be painful, but go directly to that person and address the problem.  Deal with it, face-to-face.  Don’t let it fester.  Don’t let it build up into an unnecessary battle.  Why?  Because we are to be about the practice of community, of being in relationship.  Everything Jesus preached about, talked about, taught, practiced was about relationship.  Relationship with God.  Relationship with one another.  Relationship is so important that what happens between us here is reflected in heaven.  It’s reflected in heaven because God cares deeply about our relationships.  God is at the heart of them.  God is at the heart of this passage.  God is at the heart of our community.  And when it comes to community, size doesn’t matter.  Even if only two or three people are gathered in the name of Jesus, God is there with them.  God is here with us.  That goes for our conflicts as well.  God is here with us, calling us to reconcile, calling us to make peace.  Let us answer that call, in God’s world and right here, in this place.  Not the parking lot.  Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”  Amen.  

Joseph Who?

Exodus 1:8-2:10

August 24, 2014

            Approximately three years ago, I was moving from Iowa to Oklahoma.  In the midst of packing boxes and making decisions and doing all the things you do when you’re moving, I made a visit to the community college where I taught for seven years.  At that time, I hadn’t taught on campus for over a year, although I’d been teaching online.  When I went, I knew that the majority of students I’d taught would no longer be there.  But I didn’t expect to know as few teachers as I did.  Although I was an adjunct, I still spent a great deal of time on that campus.  So it was disconcerting, to say the least, to be remembered by so few – or forgotten by so many.  I think I expected to walk in and be greeted like a long lost friend.  Instead, I received a few "Oh yeah, Amy.  You taught ethics didn't you?"  Even the folks who did remember me and were glad to see me had work to do.  They had papers to grade and reports to submit.  Life at the college had gone inexorably on, without me.  I walked away from that visit feeling as though my name was changed from Amy to Amy Who?  It is hard to be unremembered. 

            In the story before us today, life has also gone inexorably on.  Last week we completed our journeys through Genesis.  We left the Joseph Cycle with Joseph, the prime minister of Egypt, reconciled with his brothers.  His entire family has moved from Canaan to Egypt, to the land of Goshen.  Not only did Joseph save his own flesh and blood from the terrible famine devastating that part of the world, he saved all of Egypt as well.  Because of his salvific actions, you’d expect the name Joseph to be uttered in reverent tones for generations.  Yet at the beginning of this new act in the story of God’s people, many generations have passed.  Centuries have passed, and a new king, a new pharaoh, has risen to power.  If someone were to say the name "Joseph" to this pharaoh, I suspect his response would have been, "Joseph who?"  Joseph, the Hebrew man who saved Egypt has been forgotten.  Not only has Joseph been forgotten, but his people are now feared by this new king.  He fears them because there are just so many of them!  If Egypt goes to war, the Israelites might join with the enemy and fight against him.  How did he deal with this imagined threat?  He sought to control them by mercilessly enslaving them.  Perhaps they can be broken through hard labor.  Maybe, just maybe, working long hours in brutal conditions will keep their population in check.  But the Israelites continue to multiply.  It seems that even torturous hours of backbreaking work couldn't stop the Hebrew people from being prolific.  Even if Joseph was no longer remembered, the promise of God to Abraham that his descendants would number more than the stars seemed to be coming true – even in or in spite of, slavery. 

            Pharaoh’s fear of the Hebrew people made it easy for him to make them the scapegoat for any of Egypt’s ills.  As history testifies, when our political leaders tell us to be afraid of a group of people, we too often comply.  So not only did Pharaoh fear the Israelites, so did all Egyptians. 

            Slavery wasn't slowing the Hebrews down, so the pharaoh decided to try another course of action.  He summoned two midwives who helped with the labor and delivery by the Hebrew women, Shiphrah and Puah.  If I were to mention these two names randomly, outside of the context of these verses, you might ask yourself, "Shiphrah and Puah who?"  However these two names, these two women were well known by my fellow seminarians and I.  They made for a great trivia question.

            What were the names of the two midwives in Exodus?  Puah and Shiphrah! 

            Other students talked about naming pets after them.  Some joked, at least I hope they were joking, about naming their children after them.  Wouldn’t they be great names for twin girls?!  I think a couple of students dressed up as them for a Halloween party.  Yet outside of a specialized community like a seminary, these two women, Shiphrah and Puah, aren't well known.  But what they did set in motion an extraordinary course of events. 

            The pharaoh summoned them because he had orders for them.  When they were attending to a Hebrew woman in labor, they were to kill all newborn boys.  The infant girls could live, but kill the baby boys.  But Puah and Shiphrah feared God more than they feared Pharaoh.  They wouldn't kill innocent babies.  So they did something that tends to be overlooked and forgotten in the larger scheme of the Exodus.  They lied.  They lied to the king of Egypt.  They lied to a ruler who didn't just believe he was the monarch of a nation; he believed he was god on earth.  And the lie they told the pharaoh was fantastic!  Basically they told the man who ruled everyone and everything that the Hebrew women delivered their babies so fast and so easily, so "vigorously," the midwives couldn't get to them in time.  Egyptian women might deliver their children slowly, and with a certain amount of decorum, but babies born of Hebrew women were like cars shooting out of the final turn in a log ride.  They just came on their own!

            This lie told by these remarkably brave women begins the events that led to the birth of Moses; to his ride down the Nile in a basket, which in Hebrew is the same word for "ark;" to his being saved by the Pharaoh's own daughter; to a burning bush and the call of the great I Am; to a hard-hearted ruler and a series of ever-worsening plagues; to the parting of a sea; to the wilderness, to the promised land. 

            In a commentary he wrote about this passage a few years ago, David Lose refers to a book by Andy Andrews called The Butterfly Effect.  Essentially, this effect is the idea that small actions can ripple out into big change.  Lose offers an example about Norman Borlaug from this book.  Norman Borlaug developed high-yield, disease resistant corn and wheat.  That hybrid corn and wheat saved millions of people from famine.  But Borlaug ran an office in New Mexico created by former vice-president Henry Wallace.  Wallace created this particular office for the development of seeds that would grow in arid climates.  Wallace was mentored by George Washington Carver, who loved flora and fauna and instilled that love in Henry.  George Washington Carver was an orphan who was adopted by Moses and Susan Carver.  And so on.  And so on. 

            This is the butterfly effect.  Borlaug was able to do the really big thing that he did, creating hybrid seeds that saved the lives of millions of people, because of smaller actions, smaller choices made by other people. 

            Who knows how many baby boys were saved because of Puah and Shiphrah?  We can’t know the answer to that question.  But we do know about one little guy their actions saved.  Moses.  He was rescued twice.  First, by Puah and Shiphrah, then by Pharaoh's daughter.  One child spared, one child rescued, grows up to rescue a nation. 

                Perhaps what we take from this story, from these two little known and often forgotten women, is that small, seemingly inconsequential actions can effect dramatic change.  It is the butterfly effect.  What was true for Puah and Shiphrah is true for us.  We can't predict how one small action on our part can set the gears in motion for a much larger change. 

            In his commentary, David Lose made the point that the world is changed by ordinary people one small act at a time.  It seems to me that this means that every single one of us has the power, the capability, the wherewithal to effect change.  Every.  Single.  One.  What we might think of as little more than a small gesture of kindness or compassion could initiate the butterfly effect that leads to a larger change. 

            In the midst of all the bad and sad news we've been hearing and reading lately, there has been a piece of good news.  For two days the customers at a Starbucks in Florida paid for the people in the drive through lane behind them.  One person randomly decided to pay for the latte of the next person in line, then that person did the same, then the next person, and so on.  For two days!  Approximately 700 people!  Sure, we can write it off as merely buying a cup of coffee for a stranger.  But we don't know the stories of the people who received that coffee.  We don't know their circumstances.  We don't know what one of them might have really received in that small gesture of kindness.  Perhaps there was a rekindling of hope and trust in the good will of other humans.  To paraphrase one of my least favorite campfire songs, maybe that rekindling will lead to a larger spark, and that spark will ignite a flame, and so on and so on.  We just don't know. 

            But what I do know is that there is no act of kindness, compassion, or generosity too small that God cannot work through it to do great and wonderful things.  Puah and Shiphrah were just ordinary women.  They weren't famous as Joseph once was.  For most folks their names are followed by "who?"   Yet their faithfulness, their willingness to do what some might consider small acts led to something great. 

            What supposedly small acts have you done?  What gestures have you made?  Who have you touched with a word or inspired by example?  Maybe what you think of as small or ordinary or inconsequential could lead to something much bigger?  Maybe a hundred years from now, all of our names might be followed by “who?”  But even if our names are forgotten, our actions won’t be.  When we act faithfully, even in the smallest of ways, big change can result.  So keep doing those small things, and let us trust that through them God has done and will do the big things.  Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”  Amen.

Stay Tuned

Genesis 45:1-15

August 17, 2014

            What would you do if a person from your past showed up at your doorstep needing help? However, this isn't just any random person that you once knew.  This is a person who made your life miserable.  This is the bully who chased you on the playground, or extorted your milk money from you.  This is the mean girl who called you nasty names; that girl who seemed to sense whatever it was that you felt most self-conscious about -- your skin, your weight, your hair -- and torment you about it.  What would you do if that person came to you, desperate for help? 

            I have a mean girl in my past.  I would like to believe that if she came to me needing help in any way that I would be true to the faith I profess.  I would like to believe that I would help her without question or retaliation.  I would like to believe that I would forgive and forget.  I hope that I have matured enough, both in age and in my faith, to see her not as a mean girl but as a child of God.  I would like to believe that if I am able to see her through that lens, that I would help her. 

            BUT.  If this former mean girl happened to show up at my door, and she had, I don't know, aged badly, I wouldn't cry. 

            I probably shouldn't admit that, but it's true.  It would be challenging not to break into a victory dance in celebration of Karma if the girl who made my life so miserable once upon a time looked as bad as she once made me feel.  Perhaps I should take a lesson from Joseph in this last passage that we read from Genesis.  His brothers, the same brothers who hated him, stripped him of his beautiful coat, threw him in a pit, and sold him into slavery to traders heading to Egypt, now appear before him needing his help.  What does Joseph do?  He forgives them.  He is overcome with emotion, and weeps so loudly that Pharaoh’s entire household hears him.  His brothers are dismayed and distraught at seeing him, because surely they were worried about his potential retaliation.  But Joseph embraces them, and assures them that they will not starve.  He will take care of them, their father, and their families.  Joseph even attributes all that has happened to God.  His brothers might have been the ones who actually sold him into slavery, but God was the one who sent Joseph ahead of them to "preserve life." 

            This sounds wonderful, and it should lead to a sermon on forgiveness and reconciliation.  But before we go there, let's look at the events that led up to this moment of forgiveness in the passage before us this morning.  A lot has happened since last week's text that kicked off the Joseph Cycle.  Joseph goes to Egypt as a slave and is bought by a man named Potiphar.  Potiphar recognizes Joseph's ability, and Joseph rises in the ranks to become overseer of the household.  Potiphar's wife also notices Joseph.  She notices that Joseph is handsome and young.  She attempts to seduce him.  When he runs from her, she falsely accuses him of trying to harm her.  This lands Joseph in prison.  But even in prison, he makes a name for himself.  He interprets the dreams of two fellow prisoners who once served the Pharaoh.  Joseph's interpretations prove true.  When the Pharaoh himself has disturbing dreams, the former prisoner who’d had his dream interpreted, told the Pharaoh about Joseph and his ability to read the true meaning of a dream.  After interpreting the Pharaoh's dreams about seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine, Pharaoh makes Joseph the second-in-command over all of Egypt.  While different versions translate Joseph’s role as “governor,” I see his position being more like a prime minister.  Either way, Joseph is given immeasurable power.  He has the ability to determine who will eat and who will go hungry, who will live and who will die.

            The famine happens, just as Joseph interpreted that it would.  It affects not only Egypt but the whole region, including Canaan.  But while other countries had nothing, thanks to Joseph’s planning and preparation Egypt had grain and plenty of it.  So people from all over begin flocking to Egypt seeking food.  That includes Joseph's brothers.  As I understand it, anyone who wanted food had to go before Joseph and ask for it.  He had the power to meet someone's need ... or not.  When his brothers appear before him, they don't recognize him.  The last time they saw Joseph, he was the boy and the brother they hated.  But now he is the second biggest bigwig in all of Egypt.  He recognizes them immediately.  But he doesn't reveal himself.  He pretends not to speak Hebrew, and uses interpreters.  Joseph accuses them of being spies.  He insists they bring their youngest brother, Benjamin, to him.  He imprisons Simeon.  Joseph has the money that they used to buy grain put back in their sacks, which they see as a sign of misfortune from God.  When they bring Benjamin, Joseph orders an elaborate feast so that the brothers can dine with him.  Then Joseph frames Benjamin by having his servants put his silver cup in Benjamin's sack to make it look as though Benjamin stole it.  He threatens to imprison Benjamin, but Judah makes an impassioned plea on Benjamin's behalf.  Finally Joseph can take it no more.  That is where we find ourselves today.  Joseph sends all the Egyptians away and tells his brothers his true identity.  He forgives them, assures them of the divine intervention and purpose in the whole ordeal, and we have our happy ending. 

            Do we?  First, Joseph's actions are not those of a truly forgiving person; at least not as I understand it.  Biblical scholars seem to have mixed opinions about this.  One commentator says that Joseph does all this to test his brothers, to make sure they have truly repented of their sins against him.  Another commentator sees Joseph's actions as an abuse of power.  He uses his power in order to exploit, torment, and manipulate his brothers for as long as possible.  His weeping is merely crocodile tears.  Second, what about the role of God in all of this?  Joseph claims that while his brothers intended what they did to him as evil, God intended it as good.  Does that mean that God caused all of this to happen, or did God work through the evil of humans to bring about good? 

            While we wrestle with these questions, what we can't take lightly is the function and acceptance of slavery throughout the entire story.  Joseph was sold into slavery.  He rises out of slavery to a position of unchecked power.  Yes, he does forgive his brothers.  But what we won't read about Joseph is that he created slaves out of all the people in Egypt.  It was Joseph who made people give him everything in order to receive food.  When the wealth from the people dried up, he enslaved them instead.  Joseph made possible the system of slavery and oppression in Egypt that would devastate his own people for hundreds of years.  Was God the cause of that?  When Joseph invites his entire family to come to Egypt and live and be well, God comes to Jacob/Israel in a dream.  God assures Jacob that it is all right for them to move to Egypt.  God will continue to be faithful.  God's promise of a multitude of descendants and a great nation will not be forgotten in the land of Egypt.  Again, does this mean that God will work through the evil we perpetrate against one another, or is God evil’s cause? 

            I think we have to take the issue of slavery in these stories and in the stories to come seriously.  With human trafficking on the rise, slavery is not something that only occurred in the past.  It is a real and present evil.  I don't believe, I can't believe that God is the source and cause of this institution of slavery.  If anything, I think God calls all of us to do whatever we can to fight it, just as we are called to fight injustice and oppression wherever we encounter it. 

            But I think there is another aspect of slavery to be found here.  Something I'd never given much thought to before preparing to preach this passage.  Jacob and his family were already living in the Promised Land.  They were inhabitants of Canaan.  Canaan is the land God will lead them to in the Exodus.  When we think of the Biblical Egypt, not the modern nation, we associate it, consciously or unconsciously, with oppression, evil, slavery.  God's chosen people must be rescued from this terrible place.  That’s all I’ve thought of the Biblical Egypt.  It was a terrible place from which to be rescued.  But in our story, in the Joseph Cycle itself, Egypt is where the food is.  Egypt is where salvation from starvation is possible.  Joseph rose to power in Egypt.  Joseph will rescue his family by bringing them to Egypt.  Egypt was, in a sense, the new Promised Land.  While Joseph was brought there through slavery, his family wasn't.  They went willingly. 

            I wonder if we don't do the same.  I wonder if we don’t go towards what we think is good, what we think will save us, and wind up being enslaved by that supposed good instead.  The philosopher Immanuel Kant wrote that nothing can be considered as absolutely good except for a good will.  Other things, attributes, qualities that we consider good can also be bad.  Intelligence, fortune, fame, power, talents – all these can be distorted for bad as well as used for good.  So maybe we willingly go towards what is good, but wind up needing rescue as surely as the Israelites will need rescuing from Egypt in centuries to come. 

            Here’s another thought.  While I don’t agree with Joseph that God caused his slavery and famine and suffering so that God could make good happen, I do believe God intends us for good.  I do believe that God created us as good, wants good for us, and never gives up on bringing us back to what is true, what is right, what is good.  Not only does God work through each of us, through our mistakes and bad choices and failings, to bring about good for all, God calls us – always calls us – to do what is right.  God works through us, and God calls us to work for the good for all of God’s children.   We may be unsure in the moment of God’s grace and intervention, but God is indeed working through all of us, bringing good out of bad, hope out of chaos, love out of evil.  God continues to call us to be the people we were created to be.  Stay tuned.  Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!”  Amen.