It was not you who sent me here

Genesis 45: 1-15, OT page 42 Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph, is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence. 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 plowing nor harvest. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God; God 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 honored 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. Sermon There was a young woman, a friend of a friend, just moved to New York City, living in her very first apartment just large enough to sleep in, working her very first job that just paid her enough to survive, so when a co-worker asked her to stay in her apartment and care for her cat while she went on vacation this young woman was excited to oblige. The apartment was wonderful – air conditioned, full kitchen, cable TV, and all she had to do was keep the cat – the only problem was that on the third day the cat died. She felt horrible, as you can imagine, and rehearsed the phone call a few dozen times before finally calling the cat owner and delivering the bad news. Fortunately for the young woman, the cat owner understood completely as the cat was 14 years old, her only request was that she go ahead and deliver the cat’s body to the vet’s office where they would handle the remains. But unfortunately, the young woman was so relieved that she hung up the phone before realizing that she didn’t have a car to drive the cat across town to the vet. How would she transport the cat then? She couldn’t walk – it was too far. She didn’t have enough money for a taxi, and even if she did, she couldn’t just hold a dead cat in her arms – so she looked around the apartment and finally found an old brief case. She put the cat in it and went down to the subway, got on the train and sat down, the brief case on the floor between her feet, and she tried hard not to act like anything at all was the matter. A nice looking young man sat down next to her. After a little while he nudged her and looking down at the brief case asked her if she was on her way to work. “Yes I am as a matter of fact,” she replied with a little too much confidence, “just going in to the office with my trusty laptop,” she said looking down at the brief case. Then she asked what he was on the way to – he was headed to the Met to enjoy some artwork since it was his day off, or something like that – well she loved the Met too and it turned out that’s not the only thing that they had in common, so at some point in the conversation this young woman began to wonder if she was about to be asked out on her first date in New York City with a dead cat between her feet. But before that could happen, train came to a stop, the young man grabbed that brief case and ran out of the train never to be seen again. Now I tell you this because it’s not every story that ends so well. The story of the young woman who moves to a new place and is robbed blind has been told and told again – which goes right along with news reports of the Ebola Virus – a disease that shows no mercy nor partiality, or the war in Palestine that has flared up again and has little hope of ever ending, the murder of children in Iraq – a place where hatred is not in short supply, protests in Missouri where mothers and fathers call for revenge, and the suicide of Robyn Williams that shines a bright light on the kind of suffering that will hide behind a smile. You’ve heard such stories and know them well enough; hear then another kind of story – where suffering was not meaningless, where brothers came face to face and found reconciliation, where everything did turn out happily ever after, where revenge would have been so easy but forgiveness was given instead. The story begins with a little brother who didn’t know when to stop talking about himself, so his brothers helped him find his way to a pit with no water in it – and he looked up waiting for the joke to be over and saw his brothers looking down on him in it, glad to have put him in his place. It turns out they weren’t just joking, they meant to get rid of him, so there were chains next as they sold him for silver coins, then a long journey to a world he’d never seen surrounded by words he couldn’t understand, and he was helpless to do anything about it. He went from the chains of a slave to the cell of a prisoner wrongly accused, though the rats and the guards, neither cared that he was innocent – and each day passed slowly, alone with his memories of the brothers who got him there in the first place. You can imagine that he was ready for the moment when he would finally see them again. Probably he had rehearsed his words and actions through a million times before. Only from his seat of power, having risen through the ranks of the Egyptian hierarchy, he not only sees the faces of his brother looking down on him from the edge of that pit in his minds eye, he sees also the hand of God leading him, sustaining and preserving him, lifting him up for just such a time as this. He said to them after so many years of rehearsing, “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… God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God.” Such perspective, such maturity, such faith – all in short supply – so hear this uncommon story and know that it is true. Hold this story close when the devil convinces you that all hope is lost – that you’ve made the wrong step, that you’re too far from the path – hold this story close and remember the God who led Joseph from hardship by an invisible hand. Hold this story close when famine and disease strike fear in the world – and remember that our God still provides a way out of no way. Hold this story close when it is clear that you are the victim – and see your hardship through the lens of faith trusting that “the gifts and calling of God are irrevocable” and nothing will separate you from the love of God. Hold this story close – when death knocks on the door whispering cold words of uncertainty and despair – hold this story close and remember the God who speaks life everlasting. Amen.