Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Something Beyond Us

Sermon preached at St. Thomas' Church, Bath, NY on the 7th Sunday after Epiphany, February 24, 2019:  Genesis 45:3-11, 15; Luke 6:27-38


           Who does not want to be in control of their life?  Who does not want to have a confident sense of who they are and what their purpose is in this life?  Who does not want to see a clear path into the future?

           In spiritual terms, who does not want to who God is and what God wants for us?  Is that not why we come to church in order to be clear about the ways of God with our life?

           The truth is that we can do all these things, and, in fact, we must do all these things.  We must make decisions, and hopefully wise ones.  We must plan for our futures.  We must take responsibility for our lives.  And we must seek God.

           But.  There is always a but, isn’t there.  There is something larger in play.  Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann puts it this way:

There is something hidden, inscrutable, playful, and unresolved about our lives that warns us not to be too sure.[1]

           Something beyond us is also always at work in our lives, outside our total control, with purposes that are mysterious.  Sometimes we get a glimpse of this purpose and sometimes it is difficult to knoe and understand.

           A false choice is sometimes presented to us that life works one way or the other.  Either I am in complete control of my life, have complete responsibility, because there is nothing but me trying to live my daily life.

           Or, the something outside of myself is in total control.  God determines the direction of my life, knows ahead of time what will happen to me and why.  That sounds as if it is the only way for religious people.

           The Bible, however, does not tell us that it is simple.  Oh, it does sometimes.  Sometimes it is clear that if you do this you will be blessed, and if you do that you will be cursed.  All the choices we make are simply choices for good or for evil.

           But the Bible also knows that God remains uncontrollable and unpredictable, shrouded in mystery, and that sometimes we human beings do not understand what is going on in our lives, that sometimes it is OK, even necessary, to shake a fist at heaven.

           If both these things are true—that we are in charge of our lives, but there is also this mysterious presence with mysterious purposes—than perhaps the best way to say how these two ways work together is to say that we are co-creators with God of our lives.  Although even then we must not assume that makes everything clear and simple.

           One of the test cases in the Bible for how God works in our lives is the story of Joseph.  Joseph the Dreamer, eleventh son of Jacob, but first son of Jacob’s true love, Rachel.  He has a special place in his father’s heart, and his brothers know that.  And Joseph exacerbates their resentment by telling them of his dreams, all of which put him on top of them.

           Their resentment boils over at one point, and they determine to be rid of their brother.  Some want to kill him, but the eldest of them convinces the rest to sell Joseph to some Egyptian traders and report him dead to their father.

           Joseph is taken to Egypt, and he ends up in prison.  But the gift of his dreams not only gets him out of jail, but eventually brings him into great power. He becomes Pharaoh’s viceroy, in charge of getting the Egyptians through days of famine.

           The famine brings Joseph’s brothers to Egypt to buy grain.  They do not recognize him because he has taken on the trappings of an Egyptian.  Joseph certainly recognizes them and he wrestles with what to do.  He has every right to his own resentment and he has the power to do anything he wants to do to them.  He can choose to ge even with him, and, at first, it looks like that is what he is going to do.

           But in the end he chooses not to play out his resentments.  Why not?  Because he realizes life is bigger than his own private concerns.  In essence, he takes a second look at his life.  It is no doubt a painful one.  It is hard—and all of us know this—to give up old hurts and to act in trust where there is no trust.

           So he tells them the simple truth. “I am Joseph.”  They are terrified.  Who would not be?  The chickens have come home to roost.

           But Joseph’s second, painful look at his life has led him to forgiveness.  Why?  Because something else has been going on.  Joseph says, “God has sent me before you.”  He says it three times, as if he is trying to convince himself as well as them.  “God has sent me before you.”

           It may seem in that statement that Joseph is absolving his brothers from responsibility.  It sounds like he is saying that God was really pulling the strings all along, that somehow it was God’s idea to sell Joseph into slavery in the first place.

           I think we have to be careful about going that far.  Joseph certainly knew the role that his brothers played, and he knew the role that he himself had played once he was in Egypt.  But Joseph is also saying that what could have been disaster, and what could now be resentment and the need for payback, doesn’t matter anymore because God used this situation for good.

           And this is primarily the God of the Bible.  The God who can bring good out of anything, even what appears to be disaster.

           And Jesus teaches us this is how we are to operate, to bring good out of evil.  He gives us some very difficult imperatives for our lives:

·       Love your enemies
·       Do good to those who hate you.
·       Bless those who curse you.
·       Pray for those who abuse you.

           All summed up in the simple statement:  Be merciful just as your Father is merciful.

           Brueggemann says

Jesus teaching [here] is not a scolding. And it is not a little romantic lesson in feeling good about everybody and acting silly. It is rather a rich, evangelical statement that there is more to life than our capacity to contain it all in our little moral categories, whereby life is reduced to a simple set of black/white, yes/no moral choices.[2]

           If you want to spend your life keeping score, well, anybody can do that.  You, he is saying, know more than that.  You know there is more to life—vastly more—than being afraid and judging others. You know God has much larger purposes in mind for you and for the world.

           If we settle for our sense of being wronged or being right, and love nothing more than to hang onto our resentments, we are denying the power of God in our lives.  To know this power of God you have to, like Joseph, take a second look,

·       Take a second look and consider that God is a player in your life.
·       Take another look and see that God is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.
·       Take another look and see that your Father is merciful, and then choose to be merciful yourself.

I’ll give the last word to Brueggemann:

I’m sure that it occurred to Joseph that if he was large-spirited his brothers would take advantage of him. But then, he reasoned, it does not matter, because God gives and intends more than the brothers can either give or withhold. In his trust, Joseph decided not to let the smallness of his brothers dictate the terms of his future.


[1] Walter Brueggemann, “Take a Painful, Second Look,” in The Threat of Life: Sermons on Pain, Power, and Weakness (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1996), 10.
[2] Brueggemann, 13.

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