July 17, 2016
Joseph | Genesis 42:26-43:15
- Genesis 42:26-43:15
- Rev. Dr. Jerry Deck
We had trouble with our sermon audio this week. Following is the sermon copy. We apologize for the inconvenience.
You know, I had an introduction all lined up this morning that talked about politics and campaigns and how much I like the fact that in Britain they only have one month (one month!) of campaigning which was going to lead into talking about the true nature of people and how they have good and bad which would then lead back to our story of Joseph, but then, well, I got kind of bored with it and was worrying about time and so I decided last night to just scrap the intro and jump into the story. So there you go!
It begins this week with the brothers having gotten their food and heading back home to Canaan. When they reach the stopping place for the first night of their return one of them discovers that the money he’s used to pay for the grain is now in his sack. At this all of them lose heart and, interestingly enough, say to one another, “What is this that God has done to us?” We could, of course, easily add this to what we said last week about what we do when we confront brokenness. We blame others, we ignore it or we blame…God. Their guilt comes from what they have done and yet they would prefer to cast blame on the Almighty rather than finally facing head-on what they had done.
My guess is that the brothers have a rather restless night sleep before continuing on their way to Canaan. After they arrive Jacob has to just shake his head as he counts and realizes he has lost yet one more son. The brothers begin to tell their father what happened emphasizing, not surprisingly, the harshness of “the man” before telling them that Simeon was forced to remain and could only be returned to Canaan if they brought Benjamin back to Egypt. After telling their story and realizing they all had their money returned to them Joseph responds mournfully, “I am the one you have bereaved of children: Joseph is no more, Simeon is no more, and now you want to take Benjamin.”
This is a pretty interesting statement because, as some have pointed out, it could certainly appear that Jacob here is accusing them of having taken Joseph away from Jacob. In other words, is Jacob here revealing his doubts as to whether or not Joseph had really been killed by a wild animal or has he suspected all along that there may be more going on than meets the eye. It’s hard to know, but what we do know is that Reuben quickly steps up to the plate and says with some force, “You may kill my two sons if I don’t bring Simeon back to you.” Now, two things pop in my head when Reuben says that. First, can you imagine if you’re one of Reuben’s sons and you overhear what he says to Jacob? “Wait? What? Us?” And then secondly, it feels a bit false, doesn’t it? “Well, dad, if I can’t bring your son back then just kill two of your grandsons and that should make you feel better.” It hardly seems like a noble or sacrificial statement, quite frankly. It’s not surprising then that Jacob doesn’t respond to it at all.
Instead Jacob seems to isolate himself all the more by saying, “My son shall not go down with you, for his brother is dead, and he alone is left.” It’s “my” son, not it’s your brother, and it’s “his” brother, not your brother. Jacob separates himself from his other sons and even alludes to the fact that because only Benjamin is left means that Jacob has only one son alive. The dysfunction of Jacob and how he relates to his sons clearly continues to reign supreme in this family. And so, nothing happens. Simeon is left imprisoned. Joseph is left wondering if yet one more son and brother has been forgotten. Jacob is left grieving for yet one more lost son. And the brothers are left with their guilt and dwindling food. And all of them are left with the prospect of a dark and seemingly hopeless future.
Eventually, of course, the food runs out and the famine shows no signs of ceasing. I love the way Jacob just kind of off the cuff says, “Alright guys, it looks like it’s time to go get some food in Egypt.” Some have suggested that perhaps Jacob forgot what his sons had told him earlier about needing to leave Benjamin, but I’m pretty sure Jacob has thought of little else since that day. Instead, like a kid who hopes that his parents have forgotten that it’s bedtime, I think Jacob is hoping that the brothers have forgotten what the harsh man had said and that if he just sort of ignores it that it will go away. But the brothers are not biting and so they quickly remind him that they haven’t forgotten. “No, we can’t go without Benjamin.” And Jacob, stymied in his attempt, complains to them about why they had ever told them about Benjamin at all.
But here, finally, almost as if out of nowhere, someone steps up. Judah seems to say that enough is enough and that the time for delay, the time for blaming, the time for avoiding, the time for allowing the past to chain the present and the future, is over. “Send the boy with me, and let us be on our way, so that we may live and not die-you and we and also our little ones. “I myself will be surety for him; you can hold me accountable for him. If I do not bring him back to you and set him before you, then let me bear the blame forever…” Unlike Reuben, Judah does not offer someone else up, he offers up himself. I will be to blame. I will take the responsibility. And Judah no longer wants to hide from Egypt, but is ready to enter it with courage. And this action by Judah, fascinatingly, begins to effect change in Jacob.
Ok, Jacob says, you can go. He tells them to go with balm and honey and resin and pistachio nuts and almonds and gum, because hey, those other things will give you bad breath. And then he tells them to take their brother (no longer just his son, it seems). But before they depart Jacob, as a part of this remarkable step of fear and faith, blesses them with a prayer, offering them up to God, El Shaddai, that he might grant them mercy, before resigning himself to the fact that he might not see Benjamin again. It is this interesting mix of faith and doubt, of hope and fear, of realizing that the future is not his to hold any longer.
And so what we see in our passage this morning is that in this part of the story at least some of those involved are beginning to grow, to develop, to mature. We see at least one of the brothers who is finally beginning to offer up himself rather than his brother or his son. We see a father who is finally able to look at the betterment of everyone, not just himself or one other person. We see a family who has, it appears, begun to learn from its’ past rather than be shackled by it. It’s a helpful part of the story because in many ways it gives hope to the fact that if even this family can begin to move forward that perhaps there is hope for the rest of us!
But as I’ve thought about this text one of the things I’ve become increasingly struck by is that what is so central to this passage could so easily be overlooked, especially since it is spoken of so little. I’m talking about the thing upon which everything, including their very lives, hinges on, and yet is rarely discussed. And that thing of which I speak is…Benjamin.
It is, as they say, all about the Benjamin, isn’t it? Joseph, as we saw last week, clearly has a unique desire to see Benjamin. Simeon is stuck in prison until Benjamin comes to Egypt. The brothers don’t get to eat again until Benjamin is able to go with them. But it is Jacob for whom it seems Benjamin is most important. Jacob would not let Benjamin go on the first trip to Egypt and initially says there’s no way he can go on the second trip either. As we said earlier, he calls Benjamin his only son and it is clear that he does not want his prized child to get away from him. For Jacob especially, everything depends upon Benjamin. It was Jacob, for whom, Benjamin was so important, so special and he will not let go of him even if everything else, including hope for the future, suffered.
But, of course, we also see that Benjamin ends up distorting the way that Jacob sees everything. He accuses his other sons of trying to get rid of Benjamin even though they were merely trying to get Simeon back. Jacob held so tightly to Benjamin that he couldn’t see that by holding him so tightly that not only would the family all die of starvation, but Benjamin himself would die. Jacob’s view is distorted by Benjamin.
Ultimately, Benjamin ends up enslaving Jacob because he cannot give up control of him. As long as Benjamin is the most important thing to him in all the world, then neither Jacob nor Benjamin can be seen in the right way, nor have a helpful future, nor be free. The gift from God that Benjamin is ends up becoming the chains of hell and Jacob perhaps does not even realize it. It has begun to consume Jacob, consume everything, and Jacob may not even realize it.
But then something happens. Whether it’s because of the famine or Judah’s remarkable speech or Jacob’s further reflection on his life, whatever it is, something finally changes. And the change that allows Jacob to not cling to Benjamin so tightly, to not continue to distort his view of everything else, that helped him to live in the hope of the future is seen as he offers Benjamin (and others) up to God Almighty. You may have noticed that when the brothers left the first time for Egypt without Benjamin there is no sense of blessing, no calling out to God, just, go while I hold on to that which is most important to me. But this time Jacob lets go of what is most important to him and as he does so he hands this critical part of himself to God and, in so doing, new life is made possible.
You know, my guess is, what the question is for us this morning. What is our Benjamin? What is that thing which we hold so important that it distorts our view of everything else, our hope for the future, our ability to be free. What is that thing which may be a remarkable gift from God and yet has shackled/chained us because we cannot offer it back to God? Like Judah who had to point it out to his father, sometimes we don’t even know who our Benjamin is, but those who are closest to us may clearly know? So, what is your Benjamin? Because any gift from God, especially the most important ones, can easily consume us, can distort our view, can control us, if we are not able to offer it up to God.
Things like safety can become our Benjamin. In many ways right now in our society, where fear and mistrust seem to be rampant, safety can easily become a Benjamin. It begins to distort our vision and so we start being fearful of everything and become chained to only those things that are not risky at all. We are afraid of the future and we forget that if we are going to pursue God’s mission that risk is almost always on the docket and if safety becomes our Benjamin then we will never be able to fulfill the mission God has called us to. One of the things I’ve heard a bit more in the hallways of our church since Dave Gall gave his talk was about searching not just for success, but for significance. And when you look at people who have had significance when it comes to God’s kingdom, inevitably there will be times of risk and fear. Times when safety, whether physically, emotionally or spiritually, will be in harms way. But if we want to live lives of significance, we have to offer up our safety, our very lives, for God’s purposes.
There are other things, of course, that can easily be our Benjamins. Things that we talk about with regularity for the simple fact that they are great temptations for folks in our area. Things like our jobs. Working is a wonderful gift and we were created to work. They are and should be important to us. However, who of us don’t know someone, a parent, a spouse, a friend, maybe yourself, for whom one’s job can become something that begins to control us, something that distorts our views. A couple months ago we talked about how easily our jobs can distort us into thinking that it is more important than time with our family. How often do we know of people who retire and are then left wandering in the wilderness because their whole life has been wrapped around their job. Again work is a beautiful gift, but it becomes a Benjamin when we are unable to hold it lightly and to offer it to God.
Or something else we talk about is how easily Benjamins can become our Benjamins. (Money, in other words.) Again, money is a gift given to us from God that can be an immense blessing. But it is a gift that can easily distort how we see things. We buy things we don’t need and that put our future in jeopardy. We go in debt and end up chained to our creditors. We offer up our money to God because in so doing we are reminded that it is a gift and if we struggle with offering up money to God, being generous, then it should be a signal to us that Benjamins have become our Benjamin.
And, of course, since this comes directly from our story, we’d be remiss if we didn’t bring up how easily our children become our Benjamin. I’m glad that I have children because otherwise some of you might begin thinking that I don’t like children because I am with some regularity cautioning us on the way in which we view them. Are children a gift from God? Of course. (I thank God for my children almost every day!) But it is not just Jacob who wrestles with not allowing a child to become a Benjamin, to become a chain, to distort how we see everything. Who hasn’t seen a parent (often a father) out on the soccer field or baseball diamond and see how his future is chained to that of his child’s? Or the way parents’ vision can easily become distorted as seen by the way in which they seem to think that the world, or at least their world, revolves around their children. Again, children should be critically important to us, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t easily become our Benjamins and can quickly chain us if we aren’t careful.
And so, we offer up our children to God. And I think one of the things that means is that the things we do for our children and with our children are directed toward helping live lives of significance for God and in order for that to happen we cannot treat them as Benjamins. Because when we do that ultimately our kids will become about what we want and not what God wants. So, for instance, my guess is that God does not care if our child goes to a college in the Ivy League or goes to Ivy Tech Community College or cuts ivy for a living. I know, I know, going to one or another of those might help them be safer or have a better job or make more money, but that doesn’t mean it will bring them significance for God’s kingdom. I’m not saying that God doesn’t want them to go to a particular place, but I do believe that ultimately what God wants is for our children is that whatever they’re doing they are helping to bring God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. And our children can do that at whatever school they go to or don’t go to. But living into that freedom means offering them up to God and not holding on to them tightly like one would to their Benjamin.
And the reason why I think it’s good to focus on that this week is because today kicks off our VBS. My guess is that the kids will have a great time. They’ll sing fun music, they’ll dance, they’ll play games, they’ll do crafts, they’ll listen to stories. It’ll be wonderful. But what I want you to know is that VBS, just like everything else we do here at ZPC, is not here to only entertain them or get them out of your hair for a couple hours (though thank God it does that!). VBS is here as one more step of trying to teach them that they are loved by God and that they are called to an incredible mission that may not be safe, it may not be lucrative, it may not be prestigious, it may not be what you want, but it will definitely be significant in God’s kingdom. May we pray for them this week and may we have the courage to offer them up to God, not as Benjamins, but as the gifts that they are to us and they are called to be to this world. May it be so. Amen.