It is Not You who Sent Me Here but God

From the inner chamber of Pharaoh’s palace, comes the sound of a man sobbing uncontrollably. Who is this man, and why his he weeping? This is Zaphenath-Paneah, Pharaoh’s vice-regent. He sits on a dais, clad in the robes of Egyptian nobility and wearing Pharaoh’s ring – both signs of his authority. Before him are 11 men, cowering in his presence. They are clearly country folk, and they look out of place in this urbane setting. They kneel before the vice-regent, because they know that this man has power of life and death. And yet, he appears strangely vulnerable in his emotional distress.

When his sobs have subsided, Zaphenath-Paneah speaks: “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” This revelation is tossed “like a bombshell at his brothers.”[1] They listen in stunned silence. Is it possible? Is this really their brother? The one they left in a pit to die 20 years ago? It all comes back in a flash – how they hated their adolescent, narcissistic, self-absorbed brother – his father’s favorite – the “dream maker.” How he claimed that he had a dream in which his 11 brothers and father bowed before him. They hated him, not only for the dreams but also for his audacity to tell them the dream, as if this were something they would want to hear. Now, dread overtakes them. The one they intended to kill now stands before him with the power of life and death. A mere nod and they are dead men.

“I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” Joseph has not seen his father in over 20 years. He spent most of those years rotting away in Pharaoh’s cell. But when it became known that he had a God-given gift to interpret dreams, his fortunes suddenly changed. By dint of his gifts and shrewdness, he was elevated to his present exalted status as a brilliant economist and admistrator of the most powerful nation in the world.

Come close to me,” and they came close, and he said, “I am Joseph your brother whom you sold into Egypt. And now, do not be pained and do not be incensed with yourselves that you sold me down here, because God has sent me before you to preserve life. Two years now there has been famine in the heart of the land, and there are yet five years without plowing and harvest. And God has sent me before you to make you a remnant on earth and to preserve life, for you to be a great surviving group. And so, it is not you who sent me here but God.[2]

Then he steps down from the dais and throws himself on Benjamin’s shoulder, and begins to weep again. He does the same thing to other other 10 – he embraces each of them individually and weeps over them. In this elaborate display of emotion, he closes the distance between himself and his brothers, both literally – he comes down to their level – and figuratively – he forgives them.

Now we know the meaning of his sobs. Forgiving someone who has betrayed us is painful – betrayal in marriage; betrayed by colleagues whom we trusted and who turned on us and stabbed us in the back. The wounds go deep. “I am wounded and cannot be healed,” the psalmist says. The desire for vengeance can consume us. We fantasize about having the tables turned so that we can hurt them as much as they have hurt us. The person who forgives must absorb the evil rather than demanding justice. It can take years to forgive someone who has hurt us. In Joseph’s case, it took decades. And yet, it becomes real in a moment, in a tearful embrace.

How can Joseph do this? The key is found in the words: “You meant it for evil, but God used it for good.”[3] Joseph says the same thing using slightly different words throughout the narrative:

“And now, do not be pained and do not be incensed with yourselves that you sold me down here, because God has sent me before you to preserve life.”

Joseph sees God’s hand in his brothers’ treachery. He does not for a minute excuse their behavior or act as if it never happened. Betrayal is betrayal. Evil is evil. Their murderous intentions shaped Joseph’s life ineradicably. The fallout from it is part of his history. But Joseph believes that God was working his purpose out through their evil deeds.

Here we sand face to face before the mystery of divine providence. God is working his purposes out despite human resistance to his will. More than that, he actually uses our resistance to accomplish his good purposes. We contradict God, but God contradicts our contradiction.[4] Think about a situation in which you have been betrayed or hurt. If this is merely human action at work, then we really are vulnerable to evil. This is a counsel of despair. But if God’s hand is it somehow, we can take it.

You might expect me at this point to say: Now, forgive your betrayers. Be reconciled to them. But I am not going to say this. Sometimes it happens in this life, and sometimes it doesn’t. There is the example of Corrie Ten Boom, who was brutalized in a German concentration camp, and after the war recognized one of the prison guards at a church service. When he reached out his hand to exchange the peace (not recognizing her), she was faced with the question: Can I shake hands with this man? Can I forgive him? By the grace of God, she reached out her hand in a gesture of reconciliation.

And then there is the example of St. Jerome, the brilliant 4^th century scholar and Bible translator who led Augustine to the faith. He was easily hurt and held on to grudges. “[M]ost of Jerome’s controversies ended in wounds that never healed.”[5]

In fact, we are already reconciled to our enemies through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He absorbed in his person the world’s treachery and evil. We may or may not experience reconciliation with our enemies in this life. But one day, we will stand face to face before them in the future kingdom of God, in his perfect Shalom.

God is the giver and preserver of all life. Genesis begins with his gracious creation of the world and tells the story of the covenant which he established with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This covenant of grace is the promise of our redemption and release. Throughout history, this covenant has been threatened by unbelief, ethnic cleansing of the Jews, and attempts to eradicate Christianity as in the former Soviet Union and China. They mean it for evil, but God used it for good. The continuing existence of the Jews throughout history and the emergence of the underground churches in China and Russia after decades of oppression testify to God’s providence.

This is a word for us, as we face the tensions in the church and the apparent fragility of the Anglican Communion. God will preserve the witness of the gospel despite human confusion and unfaithfulness. Jesus Christ is “The Church’s one foundation.” As the great hymn has us sing:

And if this is true for the larger church, it is true for our congregation and for our individual lives. He is working his purposes out for Good Shepherd, despite our ups and downs. He is working out his purposes in your life and mine.

[1] Robert Alter, The First Five Books of Moses, 260

[2] Here, I follow Alter’s translation, with a few amendments.

[3] Gen. 50:20.

[4] Here, I paraphrase Karl Barth.

[5] Justo Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, vol. 1: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco: 1984), 205

[6] Hymn 525 in The Hymnal 1982.