Sermon 8/9/20: The Moment of Recognition (Pr. Craig Mueller)

Lectionary 19a

August 9, 2020

Pr. Craig Mueller

The Moment of Recognition

Earlier this week Ernest and I were on a walk, and as we passed someone he said, “I think that was Mark.” We wondered if he recognized us with our masks. Do you recognize me with my mask? With my sleeping mask I sometimes wear to keep out light or sunlight. Add a baseball cap. Do you recognize me at all?

If we could go back a year in time and see pictures of life today, with most everyone in masks . . . with folks trying to avoid one another on paths and sidewalks . . . we’d be shocked. We’d barely recognize this moment in time. We would think we were watching a dystopian movie.

Two of our readings today have surprising lack-of-recognition moments. At the climax of a long story, and in the midst of a famine, Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to beg for food. What they don’t know is that their brother is now the virtual ruler of Egypt. And they don’t recognize him. And while the disciples are on a storm-tossed sea, Jesus walks toward them, but they don’t recognize him. They think he is a ghost! We’ll come back to both of those recognition stories in a moment. 

Think of times you haven’t recognized someone. Had a lot of time passed? Maybe it was a high school or college reunion. Perhaps someone’s appearance changed. A new hair style or glasses. They gained or lost weight. They aged—don’t we all! The worst thing is when someone recognizes you and you have no idea who they are! When that happens to me, I’m happy if I sense something about them. At least there’s something to start with. “Hey, aren’t you the one who moved here from Texas?” But when they playfully tease me, “you remember me, don’t you,” (and I don’t) I say, “help me, give me a clue.” I wonder if someday our names will be digitally available on our foreheads with a click of a watch or a phone.

Back to Joseph. Even folks with minimal biblical knowledge recognize this story. Some know it through the musical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. The Joseph story is like a novella in itself, coming at the end of Genesis. I read the whole thing, and I recommend it! It has a compelling plot. Avarice and greed. Jealously and sibling rivalry. Sex, politics, and palace intrigue. And like the Genesis stories of recent weeks, plenty of family dysfunction. I guess some things never change.

The final emotional scene, when Joseph finally reveals who is he to his brothers, leads many to recognize him as a model of divine forgiveness and mercy. After all, his scheming brothers leave him half-dead in a pit, and he becomes an exile in Egypt. Yet one commentator (Cameron Howard*) makes this observation: long before HBO’s Tony Soprano, Joseph was the Bible’s original bad-guy protagonist!

Look more closely at the story and you begin to recognize Josephs’ complexity As the youngest son among twelve, he is daddy’s favorite. He’s a tattletale and a brat. He’s a dream interpreter. In one dream his father and brothers bow down to him—that goes over well—which of course comes true. The brothers grow to resent him. He ends up in a pit and is sold into Egypt.

But as Joseph matures, his character becomes more complicated. He is handsome, successful, second-in-command to powerful Pharaoh. Joseph’s dreams of a famine come true. And suddenly Joseph’s past and present collide. His brothers’ journey from Canaan to buy grain. Not surprisingly, they don’t recognize their little brother in his fancy Egyptian clothes, not to mention his powerful persona.

Joseph is anything but merciful at first. He’s downright manipulative. He pretends not to recognize his siblings. He throws them in prison. He puts the money they paid for grain back in their sacks. The brothers are terrified to discover it, afraid they will be accused of stealing. More emotional ups and downs. Fast forward: the brothers return to Egypt with the new favorite son, Benjamin. After feasting together, rather than Joseph finally coming out, he puts his favorite cup in Benjamin’s sack, which sets up the charge of stealing. All through this we see Joseph’s imperial power. Amid great famine and hunger, Joseph alone decides who gets food, who will live and who will die.

We, the reader, are drawn to Joseph— who time after time turns aside to weep privately. Though Joseph is the one wronged and will demonstrate forgiveness, before he weeps on his brothers’ necks, he plays on their fears. He exploits his imperial power over them. 

Finally: Joseph’s secret becomes unbearable as secrets often do. And then the great moment of recognition. Joseph finally comes clean: “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. Do not be angry with yourselves because you sent me here. For God sent me to preserve life.”

Do we recognize God in the story? A God who works to bring good out of evil. A divine grace that transforms a curse into blessing. Or as one writer says, the God “who has every reason to reject a wayward human family, but who instead loves them even to the point of One’s own participation in their suffering.” Maybe, like Joseph, our complicated lives have purpose as well.

And now, get in the boat with me. Where do you recognize yourself in today’s gospel? In the fear and terror of the disciples? The wind and the waves are enough. But then they see a ghost walking toward them on the water. Weird! Maybe they’re just imagining it! Or do you recognize yourself in always over-eager Peter, ready to take a risk? Jumping right in! Walking right on the water toward Jesus. But when he takes his eyes off Jesus, he freaks out. He begins to sink.

In these weird, freaky, frightening days, as we begin to sink, Jesus reaches out his hand to us. Catches us. Even when we don’t recognize him—or any divine purpose for it all. Even when we are manipulative or secretive, like Joseph. Even when we don’t think there is any way we can get out of this mess, this sinking ship.

In our doubt, in our despair, we hear hopeful words. “Take heart, it is I, Jesus. Do not be afraid.” It is the moment of recognition. The words we long to hear. The peaceful presence in the midst of the storm we are now living.

This Lord’s Day, gathered together online, we hear the resonant meditation bell. We take a deep breath, and with the exhale, there is a sign of relief. The presence of God.

*Thanks to Cameron for much of the inspiration for the Joseph material.