Sermon For August 15, 1999
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
HEBREW TESTAMENT: “Food for the Famine” ~ Genesis 45:1-15
It still seems strange to wear a full beard as my father and my father’s father. The beard of wisdom, the beard of age. For I am Joseph, and for many years I have had the clean shaven face of an Egyptian. I was second only to the Pharoh in the land of Egypt. I was second to Pharoh in power. It is strange that I should have come to such a position. I just tried to make the best of each situation as it came to me. My efforts were rewarded. I would not have guessed that I would come to power when my brothers, in hatred, first threw me in the pit and sold me to the Ishmaelite traders. As I made my way ever farther south, I though that my life was near an end. Then, when I got to Egypt and saw the platforms of slaves being put up for sale, I wondered what would become of me.
I tried to stand tall, to hold myself with pride. I was purchased by Potiphar. I told him that I was able to read and write, which was a lie, but it seemed the best way to assure a good position. I learned quickly, it was not more than a year before I could indeed read and write. I was set in charge of all of my master’s possessions, his whole household. You see, before that time his slaves had been stealing from him. I showed him the true value of his belongings. He gave me oversight of all things.
It was not the end of my difficult trail. His wife whispered to me, calling on me to lay with her. I knew it was wrong, and I refused, but she accused me falsely and I was thrown into prison. I approached prison in the same way that I approached slavery, I did the best I could in my situation. Working hard, soon I was given responsibility within the prison itself. People began to turn to me for advice. I already had long experience with dreams, and in prison my ability to interpret dreams became further sharpened. One day two men came to me, one the Pharaoh’s baker, the other the Pharaoh’s cupbearer. They asked me what was to become of them. I told the baker that soon he would be dead, but I told the cupbearer that the day would come, in the near future, when he would again be holding out Pharaoh’s cup. When the guards came to restore the cupbearer to his position, I said, “Remember me when you go to your master.”
Two more years went by. Somehow I found a strength from deep within me to sustain myself during this trial in prison. The day came when the Pharaoh himself had a dream. It was then that the cupbearer remembered what had happened. When the magicians of the Pharaoh were unable to interpret the story of his sleep they sent for me. I told him immediately that my ability to understand a dream was not all mine. That it came from something beyond me. Somehow I was given the understanding of what the vision meant. I didn’t know what to call that something beyond me, but I used the only word that I knew from my father, and I called it “God”. Only God can interpret dreams. The truth of the matter is that I had really seen no evidence of this God in my life. With hindsight I could see how things had worked out up to that point. Yet, God had never spoken to me as he had to my ancestors. I had been given no special vision, no blessing of the first born, no voices had come to me in the stillness of my nights. But I called it God.
Pharaoh’s dream? Seven fat cows drinking at the river, then seven scrawny cows come up behind them, their hides hanging on their bones. They devour the seven fat cows, and still there is nothing except their ribs. He had a second dream, one very similar. Seven ears of corn, fresh and plump, full of milk, and seven small dried and ears of corn come and devour the seven full. But it doesn’t change them. They are still small, wrinkled and dried. I put my trust in the power beyond myself. Then I spoke to Pharaoh. “There will be seven years of great plenty. Seven years of abundance beyond anything you could imagine. After those seven years, there will be seven years of great famine. Those who have not prepared will perish.”
I spoke only what was given to me. But Pharaoh saw the wisdom in the words. He gave me his ring. He gave me an Egyptian name and he put me in charge of the effort to prepare for the famine. I gave myself to that task as I had all tasks in the past. I lived where I was and thought seldom of my home, and my family before my time in Egypt. It did not occur to me to try to contact my father, for I was in a completely different world. I set myself to the task, I gave the directions, and I organized the people. A portion of all the crops that were grown each year went into storage, for the years of famine that were surely to come. When the day came we were all well prepared.
Two years into the famine we began to receive visitors, nomads, wanderers from all across the Middle East. They had heard that there was food available in Egypt. I shared a little here and a little there, always taking care that there would be enough for all of Pharaoh’s people. I was a very loyal servant. But then the day came that I could hardly have imagined. Ten men stood before me. As I looked upon their faces, I realized that these ten men were my brothers. I felt a twisting knot forming in my stomach. A flood of emotions came upon me. Joy at my kin, but anger at what they had done to me. At what they had done to separate me from my family all of these years. I tried to sort through, but in the end I treated them with the harshness of a stranger. It was not difficult to do so, because I was a stranger. A stranger in my own homeland, but also a stranger in Egypt. An Egyptian wife and two beautiful sons could do nothing to make me an Egyptian. I was a Hebrew in royal garb. I belonged nowhere. Belonged to no one. As I came face to face with my brothers I was also face to face with the emptiness of my own life. I had put on a cover of busyness, to keep me from looking deep within myself. I ordered them thrown into prison. For three days they waited. I thought about revenge. Then I called them before me. I told them that I had decided to sell them the grain that they sought. I instructed my servants to load their bags. I also instructed them to take the money that my brothers had given me and place that deep within the saddlebags. I could only imagine what my brothers thought when they discovered not only the grain, but the money. What fear must have raced through their hearts. I did more than that. I demanded that they bring me their younger brother, Benjamin, to show that they were trustworthy. To make sure they returned, I demanded that one of their number be left behind. They named Simeon. Simeon. The one who had called out for my death. Simeon stayed behind, and the nine went back north to their homeland. To my father and my brother.
It was some time before they returned. They waited, I think, until all of the grain had been consumed. Then they came back, bringing with them Benjamin. How difficult it must have been for my father to let Benjamin go. My brothers must have been persuasive. When Benjamin walked into the room it was all I could do to keep myself from running to him and throwing my arms about him. I called for a feast. I made them stand while I went to my room and sobbed. When the tears came no more, I washed my face and returned. I invited them to be seated. From the oldest to the youngest. There was a look of bewilderment, amazement about them. They sat and we ate. Again I instructed my servants to load their bags with grain. And again, to return the money that they had paid. This time I also told my servants to take my silver chalice, my drinking cup, and to place it in the bag of my brother Benjamin. They departed, all eleven of them. I sent my servants after them. The brothers were accused of stealing my silver cup. They insisted that they were not guilty. They swore, “It was not us. If one of us took the cup, let him be put to death.” Their faces must have been a picture of horror when the cup was lifted from Benjamin’s bag. When they returned to my quarters it was clear to see that they were heavy with sorrow. Judah stepped forward, then fell to his knees. He pleaded for Benjamin’s life. He shared the whole story. How they had sold Benjamin’s brother Joseph into slavery. How Joseph and Benjamin were the only sons of their father’s beloved wife Rachel. He shared how it would kill his father to have to bear the sorrow of losing a second son. Judah’s plea was real. He was filled with grief and fear, and he offered himself in Benjamin’s place. It was in that moment that I saw things clearly. I understood what had happened and how we came to this point. With tears welling up in my eyes, I instructed my servants to leave us alone. Then I said to them, “My brothers, I am Joseph.” I could see the fright in their faces. I reassured them quickly. “My brothers, you have nothing to fear. You see, you are not the ones that sold me into slavery. It was God’s plan. It was God’s propose. It was because of the sale that I am now in a position to preserve our family. If it were not for the events that have gone on there would be no way that our family would have survived the famine. But now I am in a position to provide food for all of us through the remainder of this difficult time.” I went forward and kissed Benjamin, and greeted my brothers. Then I sent them north to fetch my father, and his flocks, and all of the kindred. They soon arrived, and I went to greet my father. He took my face in his hands. He said, “Joseph, my Joseph, it is really you.” We embraced, and kissed, and laughed and cried until we could stand no more.
My family settled in the land of Goshen. I provided for them until the time came when the crops grew green and strong, and there was again plenty in the land. The number of Hebrews grew stronger year by year, until we became many, many people. Life here in Egypt has been good for us. I don’t know if we will ever return to the land of Canaan.