Genesis 37:1-4, 12–28
This text is used for the Lectionary Year A on August 13, 2017.
It can be difficult to read the story of Joseph with the advantage of a contemporary perspective. Tales of his integrity, perseverance, and wisdom are often retold in the church but are typically approached nonlinearly. We already know what happens to Joseph later in his life, and so we read with a certain assurance when he is sold into slavery, or he is wrongly accused and imprisoned, or after the famine he foretold strikes. Joseph, however, did not have the luxury of such a nonlinear survey of his life, and neither did his brothers when they plotted to kill him and eventually sold him into slavery.
The very first impression of Joseph that Genesis 37 offers is that of a tattle-tale, and this trait was due in no small part to the favor Joseph was given by his father, Jacob. He was one of the youngest of his father’s many children, but he is the firstborn of Jacob’s beloved wife, Rachel. Jacob—who was not his father’s firstborn, either—was made “first” as the result of the favoritism shown by his mother, Rebekah. Jacob was no stranger to questionable behavior, either. His mother aided in the deception of his brother Esau and his father, Isaac. It makes sense that Joseph—who, like his father, became “first” through favoritism—would also behave questionably and that his father would even encourage it (albeit not with a birthright, but a special robe).
The disdain his brothers must have already had for Joseph was only made worse by Joseph’s tattling and Jacob’s favoritism. But it was the apparent narcissism Joseph displayed upon revealing dreams of his brothers bowing to him, however, which pushed Jacob’s other sons over the edge. The long journey Joseph takes from the valley of Hebron to Shechem and Dothan builds suspense in the story as the reader senses doom for Joseph, while Joseph himself appears completely oblivious to the impending disaster.
The brothers see Joseph coming from a distance, and they decide to do something about him. They were so angry they did not merely wish to kill Joseph, but to deny him a proper burial, as well. Their initial plan was to kill Joseph and dump his body into a pit. Reuben and Judah intervened, however, seeking some semblance of mercy for Joseph. When all was said and done, Joseph had “merely” been stripped of the special robe his father had given him, and thrown into the pit his brothers had found.
How often do we seek and administer justice for ourselves like Joseph’s brothers? How often do we pat ourselves on our back for telling ourselves we have been merciful, while the “mercy” we have shown a person remains full of violence and dishonor? Joseph’s brothers thought they were merciful to Joseph by not killing him, but the atrocity they committed was just as severe and just as sinful. Flinging Joseph into the pit and selling him to the Midianite traders would have been, as far as the brothers were concerned, death for Joseph after all.
The disadvantage Joseph and his brothers had in experiencing their own story linearly was that they were only able to understand their circumstances set immediately before them. Joseph was unwittingly preparing his brothers for the coming famine by introducing them to the idea of eventual reliance on him. That famine was not part of the brothers’ present reality. They had no pressing need for reliance on Joseph. What was part of their present reality, however, was that seemingly narcissistic tattle-tale of a younger brother. The brothers preferred to take care of what they knew, rather than taking care of what might be. They preferred to eliminate the dream rather than the famine.
Walter Brueggemann calls this limited, linear understanding demonstrated by the brothers the “resistant hopelessness” of humanity. We humans do not merely push back on that which we hope against, we fight hopelessness itself. We often fight a futile battle against sin, constantly striving for a perfection that cannot be achieved, rather than placing our hope in Christ—who defeated sin once and for all. We don’t wish to experience famine, but our first inclination is not to defeat that famine. Our first inclination is to defeat those upon whom we might rely in the event of such a disaster. Our first inclination is to defeat the dream.
Despite Joseph’s precociousness, the violent response of his brothers and their role as antagonists in this story teaches us that we must resist the urge to eliminate dreams rather than famines. This is the advantage we have over Joseph and his brothers, whose story serves as a cautionary tale. We are gifted today with a nonlinear understanding of Joseph’s dream. We know about the famine, and we know how God used it and Joseph. The dream was stronger than the brothers’ evil. If we acknowledge our nonlinear advantage and learn from the brothers’ ignorance, we can learn to place our faith in—and ourselves under the authority of—one who wants to save us from so much more than a seven-year famine.
Jonathan Higdon
Minister of Youth and Education
Ball Camp Baptist Church, Knoxville, Tennessee
jonathan@ballcampchurch.org
Tags: Joseph, Dream, Brothers, Authority