You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Ah, at last we get to the story, the story we tell and re-tell about the angels and the shepherds and the sweet young woman great with child and... Oh, wait, not quite that story. Angels, yes, but only in dreams. No shepherds or inn-keepers in Matthew’s pageant. In fact, he barely works Mary in, naming her only as Jesus’ mother and Joseph’s betrothed. This is Joseph’s story, as Matthew tells it: Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
Interestingly, Matthew does not refer to Joseph as Jesus’ father – in fact, he tips the “messianic secret” in the first line. Mary is introduced as mother and fiancée, but all the action here is with Joseph – his challenges, his choices.
We are told he is a righteous man, and we can see how gentle is his response to the news of Mary’s pregnancy, intending to dissolve the betrothal in quiet so as to protect her from legal liability as an adulteress. Then an angel intervenes in a dream, giving him the rundown that, in Luke, Mary hears directly from the angel Gabriel.
And Joseph decides to obey this dream message, despite his own misgivings and the likely derision of the people close to him. He does so honorably, and endures Mary’s "confinement" without marital gratification – all the while preparing to welcome and raise a first-born whom he knows is not his biological child. In today’s idiom we might say, “Joseph totally steps up, dude.” (Randy Travis tells his story – and The Whole Story – in Raise Him Up.)
Who in your life has stepped up for you, above and beyond their “duty?” Relatives, teachers, colleagues, friends…. Let your gratitude fill you – and if they’re still around to be thanked, thank them again.
Who or what you are being called to nurture into strong, healthy growth? Who are you helping to “raise up?” What are you helping to build? Remember this is God’s work, work God invites us to participate in. The results are not up to us, but sometimes the work won't happen if we don't agree to do it.
God asked Joseph to participate in a critical role in the plan of salvation that we claim as Christians. It was not an easy “yes,” any easier than Mary’s was. But Joseph said yes – and so helped to raise us up in the Life of God.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
Showing posts with label Joseph. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joseph. Show all posts
2-21-25 - The Other Cheek
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's Hebrew Bible reading is here.
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.” What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled. But in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, Joseph is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, perhaps exacting some emotional revenge, but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off for decades from his family and beloved father. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who have hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.” What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled. But in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, Joseph is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, perhaps exacting some emotional revenge, but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off for decades from his family and beloved father. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who have hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
© Kate Heichler, 2025. To receive Water Daily by email each morning, subscribe here. Here are the bible readings for next Sunday. Water Daily is also a podcast – subscribe to it here on Apple, Spotify or your favorite podcast platform.
12-15-22 - Trust and Obey
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
“When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him…”
Joseph was a paragon of virtue, it would appear, a man who did what God commanded even though it exposed him to shame and ridicule – and ultimately danger, once the implications of being step-father to God’s son became apparent. Yet Joseph excelled at obeying.
I’m not fond of the word “obedience.” There is a hymn I've never liked, for I believe it captures all the legalistic religiosity I spend much energy countering:
“Trust and obey, for there’s no other way / to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.”
“Yes, there is!” I want to shout. “There is the way of grace and acceptance and doing good on the power of the Spirit, not on our own!” As one whose faith came alive under a steady stream of preaching about the grace of God, and who is keenly aware of the limits of willpower, I prefer to stress the unconditional love of God that we receive despite our frequent failure to obey. Obedience is so closely linked in my mind to legalism, I react negatively, despite my general compliance.
And yet, here is Joseph, reminding me of the power that can be unleashed when we simply obey. Joseph’s obedience may have been a product of a self-disciplined nature. Or maybe it resulted from the very clear and powerful, supernatural encounter he had in his dream with an angel of the Lord – reinforced, no doubt, by Mary’s tale of her own angelic encounter. We might find ourselves more inclined toward obeying and following God's guidance as we get more in touch with our own divine encounters. They may not be as dramatic as Joseph’s, but they are real.
So... when did you last sense the Spirit of God nudging you or instructing you in some way? When did you last sense the presence of God around you or see evidence of God’s handiwork in your life or in the world?
If you can’t think of anything… there might be a prayer in that, asking God to help you become more aware, or to open your own heart a little wider to what is happening in the unseen realm of spirit.
It is hard to trust, let alone obey, a total stranger. If we keep God at arm’s length or at a polite distance, it's harder to discern the leaps of faith we are invited to take. God may never ask us to take a leap like Joseph did… Then again, God does invite us, like Joseph, to nurture the Christ-life in ourselves and in others, every day of the year.
We don’t have to escort a pregnant woman to Bethlehem… we just have to get ourselves there, and trust God to walk with us no matter what comes.
“When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him…”
Joseph was a paragon of virtue, it would appear, a man who did what God commanded even though it exposed him to shame and ridicule – and ultimately danger, once the implications of being step-father to God’s son became apparent. Yet Joseph excelled at obeying.
I’m not fond of the word “obedience.” There is a hymn I've never liked, for I believe it captures all the legalistic religiosity I spend much energy countering:
“Trust and obey, for there’s no other way / to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.”
“Yes, there is!” I want to shout. “There is the way of grace and acceptance and doing good on the power of the Spirit, not on our own!” As one whose faith came alive under a steady stream of preaching about the grace of God, and who is keenly aware of the limits of willpower, I prefer to stress the unconditional love of God that we receive despite our frequent failure to obey. Obedience is so closely linked in my mind to legalism, I react negatively, despite my general compliance.
And yet, here is Joseph, reminding me of the power that can be unleashed when we simply obey. Joseph’s obedience may have been a product of a self-disciplined nature. Or maybe it resulted from the very clear and powerful, supernatural encounter he had in his dream with an angel of the Lord – reinforced, no doubt, by Mary’s tale of her own angelic encounter. We might find ourselves more inclined toward obeying and following God's guidance as we get more in touch with our own divine encounters. They may not be as dramatic as Joseph’s, but they are real.
So... when did you last sense the Spirit of God nudging you or instructing you in some way? When did you last sense the presence of God around you or see evidence of God’s handiwork in your life or in the world?
If you can’t think of anything… there might be a prayer in that, asking God to help you become more aware, or to open your own heart a little wider to what is happening in the unseen realm of spirit.
It is hard to trust, let alone obey, a total stranger. If we keep God at arm’s length or at a polite distance, it's harder to discern the leaps of faith we are invited to take. God may never ask us to take a leap like Joseph did… Then again, God does invite us, like Joseph, to nurture the Christ-life in ourselves and in others, every day of the year.
We don’t have to escort a pregnant woman to Bethlehem… we just have to get ourselves there, and trust God to walk with us no matter what comes.
12-13-22 - Field of Dreams
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
One of my favorite “faith movies” of all time is Field of Dreams. I saw it 11 times in a year – in theatres. It tells the story of an Iowa farmer named Ray Kinsella who hears a whispered voice telling him to plow under a fruitful field of corn and build a ball park. This is economic and agricultural madness, and yet he becomes convinced of the voice’s reality. Equally nutty instructions follow, leading to the impossible reality that Shoeless Joe Jackson and other now dead baseball greats of yore start coming through the corn to play on the field and interact with Ray and his family.
Ray’s wife supports him following these instructions – but it’s hard. Is he losing his mind? At a crucial point, when she’s ready to give up, they both have the same dream one night, giving them the confirmation they need to stay on this seemingly insane course and follow where it leads.
Joseph of Nazareth had a LOT of dreams. Like his namesake, the Joseph of the woven cloak and jealous brothers, the New Testament Joseph received regular angelic communications through his dreams. Unlike the Joseph of Torah, however, whose dreams were symbolic and required interpretation, Joseph of Nazareth gets clear instructions, “Do this,” “Go there,” “Don’t go there,” “Okay, it’s safe now…”
In Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth, the angels just show up directly to people like Zechariah, Mary, the shepherds, unmediated by REM sleep and human processes. They’re just there – “Look out! Be not afraid!” The writer of Matthew either heard different stories, or maybe thought Luke was embellishing things, for in his telling the angels speak only through dreams. And in Matthew, it is Joseph who receives the divine message that in Luke is delivered to Mary.
After Joseph learns of Mary’s premature pregnancy, and resolves to divorce her quietly,
“…an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” God gave Joseph the information he needed to walk in faith.
Have you ever had a “God dream?”What message did you discern? Did you act on it?
In what ways do you sense the Holy Spirit communicates with you? In prayer directly? Through events and coincidences? By a strong sense or urge to do or say something that bears good fruit? Through meditating on the Word of God? I have a friend who gets pop song lyrics in her head – always with a message that suggests answers or guidance.
I believe the Holy One is often messaging us. As we tune our receivers, we begin to discern those messages more often. And when we do, we check that our interpretation is consistent with what we read in Scripture, not contrary. We can also seek confirmation from others in our community of faith. If the Spirit suggests you do something radical, the Spirit will give someone else confirmation for you.
In Field of Dreams, as in our nativity story, the instructions in dreams leads, ultimately, to love, to reunion and reconciliation and restoration. Which is where all God dreams ultimately lead… Joseph’s, and mine, and yours.
One of my favorite “faith movies” of all time is Field of Dreams. I saw it 11 times in a year – in theatres. It tells the story of an Iowa farmer named Ray Kinsella who hears a whispered voice telling him to plow under a fruitful field of corn and build a ball park. This is economic and agricultural madness, and yet he becomes convinced of the voice’s reality. Equally nutty instructions follow, leading to the impossible reality that Shoeless Joe Jackson and other now dead baseball greats of yore start coming through the corn to play on the field and interact with Ray and his family.
Ray’s wife supports him following these instructions – but it’s hard. Is he losing his mind? At a crucial point, when she’s ready to give up, they both have the same dream one night, giving them the confirmation they need to stay on this seemingly insane course and follow where it leads.
Joseph of Nazareth had a LOT of dreams. Like his namesake, the Joseph of the woven cloak and jealous brothers, the New Testament Joseph received regular angelic communications through his dreams. Unlike the Joseph of Torah, however, whose dreams were symbolic and required interpretation, Joseph of Nazareth gets clear instructions, “Do this,” “Go there,” “Don’t go there,” “Okay, it’s safe now…”
In Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth, the angels just show up directly to people like Zechariah, Mary, the shepherds, unmediated by REM sleep and human processes. They’re just there – “Look out! Be not afraid!” The writer of Matthew either heard different stories, or maybe thought Luke was embellishing things, for in his telling the angels speak only through dreams. And in Matthew, it is Joseph who receives the divine message that in Luke is delivered to Mary.
After Joseph learns of Mary’s premature pregnancy, and resolves to divorce her quietly,
“…an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” God gave Joseph the information he needed to walk in faith.
Have you ever had a “God dream?”What message did you discern? Did you act on it?
In what ways do you sense the Holy Spirit communicates with you? In prayer directly? Through events and coincidences? By a strong sense or urge to do or say something that bears good fruit? Through meditating on the Word of God? I have a friend who gets pop song lyrics in her head – always with a message that suggests answers or guidance.
I believe the Holy One is often messaging us. As we tune our receivers, we begin to discern those messages more often. And when we do, we check that our interpretation is consistent with what we read in Scripture, not contrary. We can also seek confirmation from others in our community of faith. If the Spirit suggests you do something radical, the Spirit will give someone else confirmation for you.
In Field of Dreams, as in our nativity story, the instructions in dreams leads, ultimately, to love, to reunion and reconciliation and restoration. Which is where all God dreams ultimately lead… Joseph’s, and mine, and yours.
12-12-22 - Stepping Up
You can listen to this reflection here. Sunday's gospel reading is here.
Ah, at last we get to the story, the story we tell and re-tell about the angels and the shepherds and the sweet young woman great with child and... Oh, wait, not quite that story. Angels, yes, but only in dreams. No shepherds or inn-keepers in Matthew’s pageant. In fact, he barely works Mary in, naming her only as Jesus’ mother and Joseph’s betrothed. This is Joseph’s story, as Matthew tells it:
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
Interestingly, Matthew does not refer to Joseph as Jesus’ father – in fact, he tips the “messianic secret” in the first line. Mary is introduced as mother and fiancée, but all the action here is with Joseph – his challenges, his choices.
We are told he is a righteous man, and we can see how gentle is his response, to dissolve the betrothal in quiet so as to protect Mary from legal liability as an adulteress. Then an angel intervenes in a dream, giving him the rundown that, in Luke, Mary hears directly from the angel Gabriel.
And Joseph decides to obey this dream message, despite his own misgivings and the derision of the people close to him. He does so honorably, and endures Mary's pregnancy without marital gratification – all the while preparing to welcome and raise a first-born whom he knows is not his biological child. In today’s idiom we might say, “Joseph totally steps up, dude.” (Randy Travis tells his story – and The Whole Story – in Raise Him Up.)
Today I invite you to think about who in your life has stepped up for you, above and beyond their “duty?” Relatives, teachers, colleagues, friends…. Let your gratitude fill you – and if they’re still around to be thanked, thank them again.
And then think about who or what you are being called to nurture into strong, healthy growth. Who are you helping to “raise up?” What are you helping to build? Remember this is God’s work, work God invites us to participate in. The results are not up to us, but sometimes the work won't happen if we don't agree to do it.
God asked Joseph to participate in a critical role in the plan of salvation that we claim as Christians. It was not an easy “yes,” any easier than Mary’s was. But Joseph said yes – and so helped to raise us up in the Life of God.
Ah, at last we get to the story, the story we tell and re-tell about the angels and the shepherds and the sweet young woman great with child and... Oh, wait, not quite that story. Angels, yes, but only in dreams. No shepherds or inn-keepers in Matthew’s pageant. In fact, he barely works Mary in, naming her only as Jesus’ mother and Joseph’s betrothed. This is Joseph’s story, as Matthew tells it:
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.
Interestingly, Matthew does not refer to Joseph as Jesus’ father – in fact, he tips the “messianic secret” in the first line. Mary is introduced as mother and fiancée, but all the action here is with Joseph – his challenges, his choices.
We are told he is a righteous man, and we can see how gentle is his response, to dissolve the betrothal in quiet so as to protect Mary from legal liability as an adulteress. Then an angel intervenes in a dream, giving him the rundown that, in Luke, Mary hears directly from the angel Gabriel.
And Joseph decides to obey this dream message, despite his own misgivings and the derision of the people close to him. He does so honorably, and endures Mary's pregnancy without marital gratification – all the while preparing to welcome and raise a first-born whom he knows is not his biological child. In today’s idiom we might say, “Joseph totally steps up, dude.” (Randy Travis tells his story – and The Whole Story – in Raise Him Up.)
Today I invite you to think about who in your life has stepped up for you, above and beyond their “duty?” Relatives, teachers, colleagues, friends…. Let your gratitude fill you – and if they’re still around to be thanked, thank them again.
And then think about who or what you are being called to nurture into strong, healthy growth. Who are you helping to “raise up?” What are you helping to build? Remember this is God’s work, work God invites us to participate in. The results are not up to us, but sometimes the work won't happen if we don't agree to do it.
God asked Joseph to participate in a critical role in the plan of salvation that we claim as Christians. It was not an easy “yes,” any easier than Mary’s was. But Joseph said yes – and so helped to raise us up in the Life of God.
2-18-22 - The Other Cheek
You can listen to this reflection here.
"Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also." What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled, but in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, he is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, exacting some emotional revenge (maybe not fully turning the other cheek…),but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off from his family and beloved father for decades. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who’ve hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them to be punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
"Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also." What kind of way to live is this? Wouldn’t it just make us all doormats? And who could do this anyway?
Unless you’re Jesus Christ, it might seem impossible to be this giving, this forgiving, this grace-filled, but in our Hebrew Bible we have a story of someone who did just that: did good to those who hated him, blessed those who cursed him, gave to those who abused him. This Sunday we hear the tail end of the story of Joseph, the beloved eleventh son of Jacob; the dreamer so hated by his older brothers they threw him down a well, then sold him to slave traders and told their father he had been killed by a wild animal, showing off his blood-spattered “coat of many colors” as proof. Their actions not only hastened the decline of their father, but started a cycle of misery and abuse for their brother.
Taken to Egypt and sold into service, he suffered further misadventures, but ultimately came to the attention of Pharaoh, and ended up as Pharaoh’s senior advisor, managing the entire country. (Read the whole wonderfully written novella in Genesis 37,39-47.) Foreseeing a regional famine, he is able to stockpile grain for Egypt. When the famine hits Israel, his brothers are sent to Egypt to buy food. They don’t recognize their brother when they come before him, but he knows them. He strings them along, exacting some emotional revenge (maybe not fully turning the other cheek…),but ultimately we see the big “reveal” and forgiveness of a horrible trauma that not only imperiled his life, but left him cut off from his family and beloved father for decades. He blesses those who persecuted him, and forgives his abusers.
Of course, Joseph does this from a place of freedom and power – perhaps that makes it easier. But the power to forgive and bless is ours no matter where we sit. For someone under the thumb of oppression or captivity, it may be the only power, the only form of choice, the only freedom. Every person bound in chattel slavery or human trafficking; every one locked in an abusive relationship; even those held in cycles of addiction comes to recognize this. Making the choice to forgive, to release, also releases us.
For those privileged not to be in such circumstances, the urgency is no less real. Inability to forgive those who’ve hurt, betrayed or abused us leaves us tied to them and gives them “real estate” in our minds and psyches. Releasing people from the very real debts they owe us is turning the other check, for we may be inviting more mistreatment. The only difference is, now it is our choice, because we want to be free, and we want them to be free. That’s what praying for our abusers can yield – a desire that they be free. It doesn’t mean we don’t want them to be punished; it means we don’t need to do the punishing. And it doesn’t mean we stay in the relationship; it only means we’ve chosen freedom.
“For freedom Christ has set us free,” Paul wrote to the Galatians, who were slipping out of grace into a rigid legalism. Freedom is God’s desire for us, and for every child of God. Those who forgive and bless and release in Jesus’ name are not doormats; we are freedom fighters.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)