Commentary on Genesis 45:3-11, 15

This week’s first reading brings us to the climactic moment of Joseph’s story in Genesis. For some time, Joseph has been ruling as a kind of vice pharaoh over Egypt. But his identity as a Hebrew has been hidden. In this scene, he “reveals” (to use a great Epiphany word) his true identity to his biological brothers, who have come from Canaan to Egypt, desperate for food to survive a regional famine. Before this big reveal, they had assumed Joseph was either enslaved among the Midianites or dead—for it was they themselves who sold him away! This moment of revelation is powerful, told with high drama, high stakes, and exquisite irony.

In fact, all this is such a good story that it can be difficult to preach without killing its drama. Preaching this revelatory moment in the story in isolation from its backstory is kind of like telling the punchline of a joke without any of the setup. If preachers jump right to this narrative moment, it could confuse their congregations—especially if they are unfamiliar with the long sweep of the Joseph novella in Genesis.

Of course, preachers could choose to toss out the lectionary strictures and preach the whole Joseph story as kind of a longer, multi-week series of its own. Alternatively, one could select some helpful excerpts from the backstory to read in addition to this climactic moment.

One of the plot points to surely note is that this is not the first time Joseph and his brothers have seen each other since they sold him into slavery. By this point in the story, Joseph’s brothers have been back and forth between Canaan (their homeland) and Egypt a number of times. And Joseph, unrecognized by his brothers, has put them through an emotional wringer. He has pretended to think they were spies and thieves, planting evidence to frame them. In light of that accusation, Joseph has made his brothers fear for their lives and for the life of their starving, elderly father Jacob back in Canaan.

The throbbing irony of all this setup builds the tension that leads to the climactic moment of revelation. Once Joseph reveals himself, will he exact revenge on his jealous brothers who ganged up to sell him into slavery?

God intended it for good?

Perhaps the key line in this key scene comes when Joseph (after revealing himself) interprets his life story theologically, like this: “God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant. … So it was not you who sent me here, but God” (Genesis 45:7–8). Or, as Joseph restates it a bit later, “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good” (50:20). It is tempting to read these verses and jump immediately into preaching a powerful, theologically rich sermon that claims, “See?! Everything that happens, even the terrible things, are part of God’s sovereign plan!” And in a way, this biblical text does promote something like that.

But you probably don’t need me to tell you that when you preach that kind of doctrine of divine providence, you run the risk of minimizing people’s actual suffering and trauma. In effect, you are asking them to simply get over it—to accept their pain (like Joseph’s) as a necessary part of God’s cosmic plan.

You may remember a few years ago, the news cycle went wild when a prominent (and notably white) megachurch pastor tried to make a similar theological jump about the trauma of slavery in the United States. He said that slavery was awful, of course, but that—like all things—it must have been part of God’s design, and part of its effect was to build a society that brought much blessing and prosperity to white people. So instead of saying that slavery manifested “white privilege,” he proposed that we call the impact of slavery “white blessing.”¹

Now, there are all sorts of problems with what he said. But underlying his words, the reason that a nice white guy and veteran pastor could say something so torturously racist is that he was trying to ram the square peg of the evil of slavery into the round hole of his doctrine of God’s providence—such as many derive from Genesis 45:8 or 50:20. And that just doesn’t work. Furthermore, it is dangerous.

A more nuanced take on “providence”

I feel a need to clarify here that I actually do believe in God’s providence over what happens in the world, but it is a doctrine that requires some nuance. And I think a closer look at Joseph’s story gives us some of that nuance. For example, even though Joseph credits God with using his brothers’ treachery to save Egypt and, by extension, Jacob’s whole clan, he still names their sin, saying, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt” (Genesis 45:4). There is some “truth” spoken into this “truth and reconciliation” moment.

In addition, Joseph doesn’t forgive immediately, but only after (as told in the previous chapter) his brother Judah has offered to rescue Benjamin by taking his place as a slave in Egypt. It appears that Joseph looked for some growth in character among his brothers before offering them reconciliation.

Joseph even requires a kind of “reparation” or “restorative justice” for his brothers’ betrayal, in that they—the ones who sold Joseph away out of jealousy for their father’s love—are tasked by Joseph with reporting all of his successes to their father: “You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt” (Genesis 45:13).

Therefore, even though Joseph frames all that has happened as somehow incorporated into God’s providence, nevertheless human agency, responsibility, and accountability are not erased. Joseph forgives his brothers not because they are pawns in some unstoppable divine cosmic plan, but as a gift of grace.

Grace overturns evil

Joseph chooses grace because he recognizes that God has parried even his brothers’ treachery, evil as it was, toward the overcoming of a devastating regional disaster. Grace does not excuse evil, but it releases the claim of retribution and opens the door to reconciliation.

I believe it is right to affirm that God is still in control of things. Chaos and evil are not going to win in the end. But affirming God’s providence does not mean that evil is part of God’s cosmic design. Rather, it is an ungodly feature of the world that God overcomes—and sometimes even commandeers—to bring liberation.

God can turn even our own pain toward good for us, sometimes using that pain as a way to help us connect with and help others who are suffering. That is a hopeful thought, without erasing, demeaning, or minimizing the pain itself.

Providence in hindsight

Finally, it is important to remember—as the Joseph story reinforces—that providence is a “hindsight” doctrine. God’s providence can only be recognized in hindsight, in the face of unexpected good. It is not a way to explain away present evil or pain or trauma. It is not a “get over it and move on” doctrine. Providence is a way to understand, looking back, how unexpected good could possibly have come out of legitimately evil circumstances.

The reconciliation that happens at the end of the Joseph story comes bundled with plenty of hard truth-telling and with restorative justice. It does not paper over the sins perpetrated or the pain they caused. But it does affirm that such evil does not limit God’s power to accomplish good. And that is a fuller, thicker way to talk about the good that God brings about in this text and in our world.

Notes

1. “Megachurch Pastor Apologizes for ‘White Blessing’ Comments,” AP News, June 17, 2020, https://apnews.com/article/e2ca67fa8f349641a1d8565255b87e98, accessed November 5, 2024.