Hold On
By Griff
Martin
On Genesis 45:3-11,15 and Luke
6:27-38
For
the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith
On
the Sixth Sunday following Epiphany
February
24, 2019
The Homily:
Incarnate
and Resurrected God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it
into a living and breathing new reality we can all together experience. Make us
aware of your presence here in this space and in these words, God, for if we
are present to you then nothing else will matter, but if we are not present to
you then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and
the Comforter. Amen.
It’s
not easy to be the oldest and most favorite child; I know much about this
because I happen to be the oldest and most favorite child. And according to
Erick Erickson, birth order means quite a lot. For example, as a first born,
psychologists say that I need to be highly praised, I like being the center of
attention, I want to achieve, I have a desire to control everything and I
prefer a structured environment. I wasn’t sure if that was really me until I
read that list to Abby and she asked why I had a copy of my therapist’s file on
me.
Joseph
is an oldest child, and then on top of all that comes with being an oldest
child, he is the first son of Rachel who just happens to be Jacob’s favorite
wife. There is a lot going on for him: the first born from his favorite wife
and he is the favorite child. He’s the kind of kid who dreams of being the
greatest of all his siblings, and then reports that dream at breakfast the next
day right in front of the other 11 brothers, only to have his dad smile and say,
“it is so, my dear beloved son.” And if that dream was not enough, the next
morning he reported to his family that he dreamed someday they would bow down
and worship him, to which his dad once again smiled and said, “may it be so, my
dear beloved son.” And if that was not enough, his dad then gave him a coat
that was fancy and bright and cemented his place as the center of the family.
And
if that is not bad enough then add this to it -- one day, Jacob sends Joseph
out to check on his brothers who are working the field. Stop and hear that
sentence fully: the other brothers work the field, Joseph gets to stay home. Well,
while working the field, the boys have been talking about how unfair it is that
Joseph is sitting home in the A/C watching Netflix while they are working the
farm. How unfair that they are all wearing hand-me-downs (some that have been
handed down 10 times now…jeans with no knees left at all), and Joseph is
wearing a new Patagonia coat; that it’s unfair that at breakfast their dad does
not even ask about their dreams, and Joseph gets to talk about how his dreams
and why he is better than everyone else.
And
all of that is unfair. Very unfair.
And
then they get an awful idea when they see Joseph coming. Kill him, and they
won’t have to deal with the unfair anymore. And then they get an even better
idea: sell him to a traveling circus that just happens to be close by and tell
their dear dad he is dead. Which is exactly what happens.
But
like all first-borns, Joseph knows how to make his way. He is like a cat that
always lands on its feet. So soon after being sold off, he is in Potiphar’s
house, and then he is in a jail for a little misunderstanding involving
Potiphar’s wife. But in jail, he ends up explaining dreams to a few folks, and
one of those folks eventually ends up in Pharaoh’s house, and Pharaoh has a
dream no one can explain until someone suggests Joseph, and like a first-born
shining star, Joseph ends up finding a way to rise to the top once again. And
that is where our text today starts, with Joseph in a position of power while
things are not going so well back home. There is a famine and his family is about
to starve, and Joseph finds himself in a position where he has food to spare
and give away.
Jacob,
still alive, an older man now, totally lost in grief, has sent his sons to look
for food so that his family can survive. And that journey has led these
brothers to Pharaoh’s home where the brother they thought was long gone is
still very much alive and there standing in front of them….and he sees them,
and they see him.
Hold
onto that.
Another
firstborn story, but this time mine: In Waco, I lived across the street from
Mrs. Hix. We were, at best, neighborly. By this I mean she had her side of the
street, and I had my side of the street. We introduced ourselves when I moved
in – myself being a pastor and thinking this was the proper pastoral
move.
A
few months after I moved in, the toilet papering began. Being a youth minister,
this was supposed to be an honor. My neighbors did not take this as such. One
evening, I returned home to find a bag full of toilet paper shreds on my front
porch. The message came through clearly. Or so I thought.
The
next morning, I was surprised to hear a knock on my door at 5:00 a.m. This is
too early for a knock on the door. I heard Abby answer the door, and
immediately a flutter of words began from my neighbor across the street,
detailing her thoughts about the toilet paper in our trees. They were not said
with neighborly love.
I
got angry. I let anger get the best of me. I spent most of the day thinking of
the perfect reply to this woman’s words. And that night when I got home, I let
all those words loose on this neighbor. I don’t remember all the words
clearly, and that is probably for the better. I just know they were not words
that make good neighbors.
I
walked back into our house so proud. I had gotten my revenge. I had said
what needed to be said and I felt about 10 feet tall. It appeared that I had
conquered evil. I was the great hope for Gordon Avenue.
Abby
looked at me and my gloating and said, “What did you do?” When I told her,
she simply replied “oh well, isn’t that wonderful.” This was not said in the
tone that implied anything was wonderful. She continued, "You go tell her
you are a pastor and invite her to church and then next visit tear her
apart…you should be so proud.”
And
all of a sudden, 10 feet felt like 10 inches. So, I stewed, and I paced, and
I walked the house until I came up with a solution. I wrote her an apology note
and went to slip it in her mail slot.
Which
led to a few awkward months during which we did not talk because I did not know
what to say, and she was most likely scared that she was living next to a mad
person – the type of person that yells at you and thirty minutes later sneaks
over to drop a nice note through your mail slot.
And
for the next four months, we lived in what felt like a Grand Canyon divide as
neighbors. Four months later, Abby and I were at the grocery store and the
inevitable happened. We were sharing an aisle with this woman, this neighbor.
The moment we realized it, Abby disappeared to avoid any ugliness that could
occur as Mrs. Hix and I met eyes in the cereal aisle.
Hold
onto that.
If you are paying attention to the news these days,
you know we are getting very close to Brexit, almost a month from now, Friday
March 29. And conversation is getting increasingly tense about what looks to be
the most impossible in a ridiculously impossible situation: the border in
Ireland.
Now this is an obscenely short and simplistic explanation:
the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland is one with a
difficult history, full of violence and with potential to disrupt the entire
world order as we know it today. The worst moment of its history is Bloody
Sunday, the height of the Northern Ireland conflict. The best is Good Friday,
which happened in 1998 and essentially eliminated the border and brought an end
to the violence.
However, there is still a lot of tension between the
Nationalist and the Unionist over this border. There is palpable and real fear
that the Brexit fiasco could set up increased tension over a hard border
returning between Northern Ireland and Republic of Ireland, which could easily
trigger extreme violence once again because of a border and trade agreements.
And all eyes are on the countdown waiting to see what will happen.
Hold onto that.
What about you? Who are the brothers in your life
that you might be called to reconnect with? Who are the neighbors with whom you
have unfinished business? Where are the borders you have drawn that are
probably causing more harm than good?
Because the difficult news for us this morning is
strong, forced borders, and broken relationships. And unfinished business in
relationships is not the path towards the Kingdom of God. Strong, forced
borders do nothing but drive us further from our neighbors. Broken
relationships leave jagged edges in our souls. It’s bad politics and it’s bad
theology.
Despite what Robert Jeffress might say on the news,
heaven does not have a wall. The Kingdom of God is open.
Hold onto that.
The Kingdom of God is Mrs. Hix looking at me in the
eyes in the grocery store and starting to cry, saying “Griff, I am sorry I
behaved so poorly, and I don’t want us to fight. I miss you being my neighbor
and I want us to fix things.” The Kingdom of God is the hours we spent on her
porch and my porch talking about our days. The Kingdom of God is her rushing
over to my house to tell me she was going to be a grandmother. The Kingdom of
God is playing together with the grandbaby in my front yard. The Kingdom of God
is the tears we shed together when Abby and I moved away from her.
Hold onto that.
The Kingdom of God is Joseph looking at his brothers,
and asking with tears coming down his face, “Is Dad still alive?” The Kingdom
of God is Joseph finding the one thing that connected them and putting
everything he had there. The Kingdom of God is Joseph giving his brothers food,
and saying, “go home and get Dad, and come back here and let me take you care
of you.” The Kingdom of God is Joseph kissing his brothers and weeping upon
them because what was broken had been restored.
Hold onto that.
The Kingdom of God is you fixing whatever needs to
be fixed to reconnect all that is unconnected in your life; finding paths
forward with your estranged brothers, finding common good with your neighbor,
erasing borders.
It’s doing the work of Jesus: love, including those
you don’t get along with, loving your enemies, doing good to those who don’t do
good in return, loving the unlovable, being merciful, doing the awful hard work
of forgiveness and reconciliation. The work of Jesus is opening up that which
has been closed, restoring that which is not whole and breaking any border that
separates us.
There is an interesting thing I have learned about
the biology of ecosystems. Where two ecosystems meet is known as an ecotone – think
where the river meets dry land, or where the mountains meet the valley. Those
places in between places are the most fertile places on earth. I think there is
something theological to that. The places that divide us might be where all our
potential lies.
You see, I deeply believe there is something that
connects us all, and that our work is to find that thing and build there. It’s
the words of Barbara Brown Taylor, who says that part of the work of church
today is to sit at the table with people we disagree with and sit there and
talk until we find something that moves us both to tears, and that is our
starting place.
To find what it is that connects you best with the
rest of humanity, with your family….And hold onto that, because that is where
God exists.
Amen and Amen.
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