Forgiveness on the Menu

Found an old sermon assignment from my Creative Preaching class. It helped me today so I thought I'd share it.

To the God who goes before us,
Thank you that the paths you create for us are paths of justice. This is not the violent justice we perceive; the kind that vindicates our victim mentality or reinforces our need to be right. But the kind of justice that does not forsake a repentant change of heart, the kind that is bigger than our need to be right and goes deeper than the hurt that resulted from the wrong. Thank you that this justice leads to peace; not just any peace, but a peace that passes all understanding. Amen

     It was everything he could do not to burst into tears in front of them. Here he was, Joseph, second only to Pharaoh in all the land of Egypt, and all he felt like doing was weeping like a helpless babe. When he looked at the men in front of him, particularly the one who pleaded to serve the punishment of his brother, it was all he could do to not fall apart. He had waited for this moment for what seemed like a lifetime. And now here he was, standing in front of his brothers. His brothers; the very same brothers who threw him into the pit, and left him to die, changing their minds only long enough to sell him into slavery. The very same brothers who he thought about while serving a jail sentence; a sentence served despite his innocence or good behavior. The very same brothers he never thought he would see again. How long had it been since he'd seen them? Too long some would say, but if time had any healing powers, it certainly wasn't strong enough to heal a wound this deep. And when healing is postponed, resentment is inevitable. 

     But even in the midst of the process, God was faithful to Joseph, and Joseph was obedient to God. God protected Joseph, provided for Joseph, and promoted Joseph. And throughout it all, Joseph submitted to God. But at the moment that Joseph saw his brothers, at the moment that they bowed to him, fulfilling the dream of the binding sheaves; he knew that God was asking him to do something more than he thought was humanly possible. Even in his Godly obedience, he did not think he was ready to let go. If he was honest with himself, he wanted justice. Yes, God made good on his life despite being abandoned by his brothers, but that was not justice, that was irony. Justice was the looks on their faces when they realized that the one they abandoned was the one they now depended upon. Justice was the bullet engraved with the words “I told you so” stuck in the back of his throat, ready to shoot out in an arc that penetrated the temples of each of them. Maybe it would pierce him too. Maybe irony and justice had more in common than he thought. 

     But remembering his call to obedience, if but only to God, he decided to bite that bullet, and hold his tongue. God was up to something, what it was he did not know, not yet, but God hadn’t let him down this far. So instead of outing his brothers he demanded they bring his younger brother, Benjamin, and once they complied he decided to test them, hiding his cup in Benjamin’s bag. They would be caught; of course, Benjamin accused and then abandoned much like he was. Surely they would not come to the aid of a thief, but would leave Benjamin to his punishment, and run home to father with some story of how Benjamin was dead. 

     But as Joseph stood, looking in the eyes of his brother Judah, he realized that everything changed. His brothers did not flee, they stood. Not only did they stand with their brother Benjamin, they stood in front of him. They protected him, and vowed to take his place. They did the very thing they did not do for him and he could tell that they wished they had.  After over 20 years of marinating in this memory and anticipating this very moment, everything in Joseph broke. He thought his life as simply ironic; but he had no idea to what degree it was planned. He had a desire for justice to be served. Turns out God only had forgiveness on the menu. So he found himself at a crossroads; turn his nose up on the foreign dish placed in front of him and demand for what he craved, or partake of the delicacy made by the master chief who partook of it first. 

     Dismissing his servants from the room, he broke down and wept; his truth barely escaping his lips, his brothers too afraid of his presence to ask him to repeat himself. How did Joseph respond? Let us turn to scripture to find out: 

Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Come closer to me.’ And they came closer. He said, ‘I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither ploughing nor harvest. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, “Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.” And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. You must tell my father how greatly I am honoured in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.’ Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him. When the report was heard in Pharaoh’s house, ‘Joseph’s brothers have come’, Pharaoh and his servants were pleased. (Genesis 45:4-16) 

We often hear this story of Joseph’s response to his brothers and think this was possible because Joseph was such a good guy. But I think in doing that we fail to realize the humanity of Joseph. Surely Joseph struggled with forgiving his brothers, no matter how his life turned out. Forgiveness is never an automatic transaction, no matter what situation the victim finds themselves in. I would imagine that it would be much harder for Joseph to choose forgiveness when ‘I told you so’ was so obvious. It’s like the time I was hosting a dressy event and ran into my ex-boyfriend, who I hadn't seen in 6 years. I went over to tell a friend who responded, “This is the perfect time for you to run into him because you look fabulous!” We all want that right? We all want to be at the top of our game when we encounter those that hurt us. It would've been completely different if I would have run into him while walking home from boot camp; all sweaty and looking like a hot mess. But would I be able to bite that bullet engraved with "I told you so" and make him feel welcomed? Forgiveness becomes most powerful when you have all the power in the room and you lay it down for the sake of hospitality. 

     Like Joseph we too have to face similar crossroads of forgiveness. Life presents it to us in interesting ways. What usually happens is we start with an event, or a person that has wronged us. For Joseph it was his brothers, for me it was my ex-boyfriend. The memory of that event stays with us, no matter how our lives turn out, and an encounter with that person will more than likely bring up feelings you felt during your last encounter. It is here that you are presented with two choices. You can choose to hold on; which can prevent or prolong the healing process and cause resentment to fester, or you can choose to let go, which allows the healing process to take its course and also opens you up to God's work. 

     You know, this is not the last time that Judah (or a descendant of Judah rather) offers to take the place of another’s punishment. Generations after this story takes place, we find Christ offering the same sacrifice. But what’s interesting about this story is that he is both Judah and Joseph; he is both the one who is wronged unjustly and the one who sacrifices himself for the sake of peace. Even in the midst of wrongdoing, he laid down his power for the sake of hospitality; welcoming us into fellowship with him in spite of our offences. What is the result? It’s the same result that was experienced by Joseph and his brothers. When Pharaoh and his household heard, they rejoiced, or, as the message bible puts it; they heard the good news. 

     Often times we have a desire for justice to be served. Turns out God only had forgiveness on the menu. So, like Joseph we find ourselves at a crossroads; do we turn our nose up on the foreign dish placed in front of us and demand for what we crave, or partake of the delicacy made by the master chief who partook of it first. 

Sitting in Saturday

He opened his eyes, just enough to squint, and tried to prepare his mind for the reality that would hit him soon after waking. He could still feel the heat on his hands from the fire just hours before. Over and over again he heard the sound of the rooster crowing, as those moments of his memory clung to him, like reckless children who refused to accept that their time of rest had come. "Aren't you one of them?""Surely you were with him!""Don't you know this man?"He sat up, as the moments of the last 24 hours flooded his conscience without mercy. He is dead. Yet he could still remember those words, "Do not let your hearts be troubled. If you believe in God also believe in me." He is really dead. Yet, he could feel the coolness of the water on his feet as they were being washed, the roughness of the bread on his tongue, the sweet bitterness of the wine..."Do this in remembrance of me."And now, he is dead. He took a deep breath, and tried to hold onto the scent of his beloved; to bury himself in his garments as he once did, head to bosom, listening to the heartbeat and breath of the one who had the words of life. But now, he is dead. And there only remained the stench of blood and ripped flesh and the cry of being forsaken. Peter felt the bitterness suddenly rush to the back of his throat, and barely made it out of his bed in time. Afterward he rinsed his mouth, threw water on his face and wept. 

I saw this image on my Facebook newsfeed and thought, "What a privilege that statement is for us who live on this side of the resurrection." How easy must it be for us to have faith already knowing the end of the story? How quickly do we move to the celebration without stopping to realize what we are in fact celebrating.

Jesus died.
For us.
He took on the weight of the world's sin for all time and died a death at the hands of the ones he came to save.

BUT THEN!....

Wait, lets just wait right here.

Yes, He rose, but why is it so hard to sit in Saturday?  To live in that space of void where Jesus is dead?

Saturday is not simply about getting ready for Sunday in anticipation, although there is a part of it. Saturday is first acknowledging the void, of waking up to the painful realization of a world without Christ. It is acknowledging the darkness, and thereby acknowledging the need that allows us to receive and celebrate in the fullness of joy.

There are areas in our lives, whether we'd like to admit it or not, where Jesus is dead. There is so much bitterness, pain, hurt, and strife in those areas that we refuse to receive the resurrection power of Christ. There is indeed a void.

So sit in the darkness. Acknowledge it. Let its reality be the starting and launching point for your anticipation of faith. Yet, it is hard to bear, but there is something about finding the courage to look death in the face and say, "I see you. I know you. But you are not the end..."