October 2, 2022 Faith Story: He Suffered

Hebrews 11:1-2, 22 & Genesis 37:3-28

Rev. Rhonda Blevins

October 2, 2022

 

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Indeed, by faith our ancestors received approval.

 

By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave instructions about his burial.

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Now Israel loved Joseph more than any other of his children because he was the son of his old age, and he made him an ornamented robe. But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him and could not speak peaceably to him.

Once Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers, they hated him even more. He said to them, “Listen to this dream that I dreamed. There we were, binding sheaves in the field. Suddenly my sheaf rose and stood upright; then your sheaves gathered around it and bowed down to my sheaf.” His brothers said to him, “Are you indeed to reign over us? Are you indeed to have dominion over us?” So they hated him even more because of his dreams and his words.

 

He had another dream and told it to his brothers, saying, “Look, I have had another dream: the sun, the moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to me.” But when he told it to his father and to his brothers, his father rebuked him and said to him, “What kind of dream is this that you have had? Shall we indeed come, I and your mother and your brothers, and bow to the ground before you?” So his brothers were jealous of him, but his father kept the matter in mind.

 

Now his brothers went to pasture their father’s flock near Shechem. And Israel said to Joseph, “Are not your brothers pasturing the flock at Shechem? Come, I will send you to them.” He answered, “Here I am.” So he said to him, “Go now, see if it is well with your brothers and with the flock, and bring word back to me.” So he sent him from the valley of Hebron.

He came to Shechem, and a man found him wandering in the fields; the man asked him, “What are you seeking?” “I am seeking my brothers,” he said; “tell me, please, where they are pasturing the flock.” The man said, “They have gone away, for I heard them say, ‘Let us go to Dothan.’ ”  So Joseph went after his brothers and found them at Dothan. They saw him from a distance, and before he came near to them they conspired to kill him. They said to one another, “Here comes this dreamer. Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; then we shall say that a wild animal has devoured him, and we shall see what will become of his dreams.” But when Reuben heard it, he delivered him out of their hands, saying, “Let us not take his life.” Reuben said to them, “Shed no blood; throw him into this pit here in the wilderness, but lay no hand on him”—that he might rescue him out of their hand and restore him to his father. So when Joseph came to his brothers, they stripped him of his robe, the ornamented robe that he wore, and they took him and threw him into a pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it.

 

Then they sat down to eat, and looking up they saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead, with their camels carrying gum, balm, and resin, on their way to carry it down to Egypt. Then Judah said to his brothers, “What profit is it if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? Come, let us sell him to the Ishmaelites and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.” And his brothers agreed. When some Midianite traders passed by, they drew Joseph up, lifting him out of the pit, and sold him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. And they took Joseph to Egypt.

 

When Reuben returned to the pit and saw that Joseph was not in the pit, he tore his clothes. He returned to his brothers and said, “The boy is gone, and I, where can I turn?”

 

Before we get into the story of Joseph, one of the “heroes” of faith we’re studying in this series based on the “Roll Call of Faith” from Hebrews 11, let’s debrief this past week here on Florida’s Gulf Coast, shall we?

 

By this time last week, it was becoming clear that a major storm would hit Florida, and the models were showing a direct hit to the Tampa Bay area. Several of the spaghetti models had a hurricane landing right here on Clearwater Beach. We were the bullseye.

 

How many of you evacuated your homes? Some evacuated. Some boarded up houses. Some decided to ride out the storm at home. But that makes it sound so simple, right? These decisions are never so simple. In fact, for some, these decisions are agonizing.

 

On Wednesday, Tampa Bay area residents woke up to a storm track that shifted considerably to the south. We breathed a sigh of relief as we rode out what, for us, was akin to a tropical storm. Some of us lost power; some didn’t. No surge here. No flooding. Clearwater Beach was spared from the worst of what Ian had to offer.

 

Then on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, we watched heartbreaking footage of what Ian did to our neighbors just a couple of hours south and even across the state.

 

There are lots of emotions to unpack with all of that:

·         Anxiety and Relief

·         Gratefulness and Guilt

 

What an odd mix, gratefulness and guilt. On one hand feeling so thankful to have been spared such misery. On the other hand, feeling guilty that we were spared while others suffered.

 

This kind of guilt is called “survivor’s guilt.”

 

Survivor’s guilt is a response to an event in which someone else experienced loss but you did not. While the name implies this to be a response to the loss of life, it could also be the loss of property, health, identity or a number of other things that are important to people. When you get through a traumatic event unscathed while others suffer, you likely will have one question on repeat: “Why (not) me?” Even though you were not the one most directly affected by the situation, it can still haunt you and leave you confused. You may even feel that you are undeserving of being spared when others suffered. “You can view survivor’s guilt as PTSD plus guilt . . . The event haunts you similarly to PTSD with regret layered on top.”[1]

 

As we hold up the week’s events alongside the biblical narrative chosen for today—the story of Joseph—I want to point out a similarity: there that there was one who suffered, and one who experienced survivor’s guilt.

 

Joseph suffered. The chosen one, favorite of his father, endowed with a special coat of many colors—hated and eventually betrayed by his own brothers. They first plotted to kill Joseph. Instead, they threw Joseph in a pit and sold him into slavery. It’s hard to fathom such cruelty. The hardships Joseph would know are simply inconceivable. Joseph suffered.

 

Reuben was Joseph’s oldest brother. It was Reuben that convinced his brothers not to kill Joseph, to throw him in a pit instead. Reuben went away for a bit, and when he returned, he discovered that his brothers had sold Joseph into slavery.

 

When Reuben returned to the pit and saw that Joseph was not in the pit, he tore his clothes. He returned to his brothers and said, “The boy is gone, and I, where can I turn?”

 

That’s survivor’s guilt.

 

You know how the story plays out. Here’s the “Cliff’s Notes” recap as a reminder. Joseph ends up a slave in Egypt, where the Pharoah is impressed with Joseph’s skill at dream interpretation. Joseph rises in position to become Pharoah’s right hand man. The only person more powerful in Egypt is Pharoah himself.

 

Back home, Joseph’s parents think that Joseph is dead, killed by a wild animal. Decades later, famine drives the family to Egypt. Who do they find themselves standing in front of, begging for food? Joseph! There’s lots more to this story. Joseph toys with them a bit because they don’t recognize him. Eventually, Joseph forgives them—he forgives the ones who sold him into slavery—and the whole family moves to Egypt where Joseph promises they will be taken care of.

 

Here’s what I want you to consider this week: without Joseph’s dramatic fall, there could have been no dramatic rise.

 

It wasn’t, however, a straight shot. Joseph must have been delighted when he was pulled out of the pit. Maybe he imagined that was the end of his brothers’ cruel joke, and that he’d soon be back home under his father’s roof. Imagine how he must have felt when he realized he’d been sold as a slave. Imagine how difficult it must have been adjusting to his new lot in life. Later on, as he found himself not only a slave in Egypt, but an imprisoned slave in Egypt, imagine how tempting it must have been to lose hope—to give up. And what a turn of events from being an imprisoned slave to becoming the second most powerful man in the entire nation—a position which would lead to him saving his family from ruin. If Joseph’s story isn’t the epitome of what Richard Rohr calls “Falling Upward,” I don’t know what is!

 

I sometimes read Father Rohr’s daily email devotional, and one from this week caught my attention.

 

It was Tuesday’s email. Tuesday. The day my husband and I hung plywood on our windows. Tuesday: the day I masterfully dropped a sheet of plywood on a spigot, breaking it, causing water to erupt out of the ground. Tuesday: the day before a hurricane. Tuesday: the day I realized I had no clue how to turn off water at the main. Tuesday: the day I frantically called the utility company for naught because the problem wasn’t theirs, it was mine they informed me. Tuesday: the day I called neighbors begging for help. Tuesday: the day I threw myself at the mercy of a plumber, who miraculously worked me into the schedule, THE DAY BEFORE A HURRICANE. Tuesday was not a good day. It was a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.”

 

And when the crisis was averted. The spigot repaired. The plywood hung. The hurricane plan in place. I sat down to read Father Rohr’s devotional thought for the day which included this scripture verse from 2 Corinthians 12:10: “It is when I am weak that I am strong.” “What? I don’t feel very strong.”

 

Here’s what Rohr writes about this:

Let’s honestly admit almost none of us believe that. We think it’s when we’re strong that we’re strong. But no, it’s when we’re weak that we’re strong. It doesn’t make a bit of sense to the rational, logical mind. Only people of the Spirit understand how true it is. The Twelve Step Program made it the first step: We have to experience our powerlessness before we can experience our power. Paul says he experienced God telling him, “My grace is sufficient for you. Power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). But the philosophy of the United States of America is that power is made perfect in more power. Just try to get more powerful: more guns, more weapons, more wars, more influence, more billionaires. Everybody’s trying to get higher, trying to get up, up, up. While Jesus, surprise of surprises, is going down. The experience of powerlessness is where we all must begin.

 

Back to Joseph. Without Joseph’s dramatic fall, there could have been no dramatic rise.

 

If not for Joseph’s suffering, we would never have heard of Joseph’s success. This, by the way, is the very meaning of the cross. Let me explain.

 

We have a suffering savior. Our God is a suffering God. This is the only way to make sense of why there is so much suffering in the world. Why Ian wreaked misery on some but not others. Why some kids are healthy, while our beloved young Prince is battling lymphoma. There’s no rhyme or reason to most human suffering. None at all.

 

Oh, people who can’t grasp nuance will seek to cast blame. But the harsh reality is this: “NOT everything happens for a reason.”

 

Father Rohr again:

I believe—if I am to believe Jesus—that God is suffering love. If we are created in God’s image, and if there is so much suffering in the world, then God must also be suffering. How else can we understand the revelation of the cross and that the central Christian logo is a naked, bleeding, suffering man? Many of the happiest and most peaceful people I know love a crucified God who walks with crucified people, and thus reveals and redeems their plight as his own. For them, Jesus does not observe human suffering from a distance; he is somehow in human suffering, with us and for us.

 

Through the cross, Christ redeems our suffering. Our rising is only by way of our falling. Our triumph only via our trials. The arc of the Joseph narrative is but a foretaste of Jesus of Nazareth.

·         Joseph: sold for twenty pieces of silver. Jesus: sold for thirty. (Inflation.)

·         Joseph: enslaved. Jesus: executed.

·         Joseph: rose to earthly power. Jesus: rose to eternal power.

 

Today we observe the sacrament of holy communion, together with Christians everywhere on this World Communion Sunday. We receive into ourselves the body and the blood of Christ, the weakness of his corporeal being—and in so doing we become one with Christ in his suffering, one with Christ in his death, and one with Christ in his resurrection.

“It is when I am weak that I am strong.”

 

My dear friends, remember this: when you face hardship, trials, heartbreak, loneliness, challenges of all shapes and sizes, you do not suffer alone. No! You have a suffering savior, a suffering God. “By his stripes we are healed.” Thanks be to God!

 

This is why we observe the sacrament. This is the reason for the bread and for the cup. So that we might never forget Christ is with us, even through the storm.

 

This is why we remember.


[1] https://centerstone.org/our-resources/health-wellness/understanding-survivors-guilt/#:~:text=Survivor's%20guilt%20is%20a%20response,that%20are%20important%20to%20people.

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