A Mess of Things

Genesis 37:1-20

September 16, 2018 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Have you ever traced your family tree? Every once in a while, I get this urge to do genealogy, so I’ll get online and start trying to track down the various branches of the Ticen family tree. I’d like to know where we came from, but the furthest back anyone has ever been able to trace it, as far as I can tell, is to New Jersey, but not to where we came from originally. I do know that from New Jersey, our family settled in Ohio for a while, and then to Indiana…where we have stayed. But even though I have a list of names on a chart, I don’t know a lot of the stories behind the names except for those whom I have known, those of my more immediate family. And it is the stories that make our families who and what they are. The stories of the crazy uncle who always shows up late at the family reunion. The grandfather who served in World War I. The cousin who stopped talking to everyone years ago. The brother and sister who won’t even be in the same room with each other. The stories and the personalities make us who we are and remind us that families are wonderful things—until they aren’t.

This morning, we’re beginning a new series of sermons about a family, centered around a man named Joseph. Several years ago, a group of missionaries gathered together for a spiritual renewal retreat where the guest speaker was scheduled to speak on the story of Joseph. This group was made up of missionaries from Western cultures and from Africa, so as the missionaries were getting to know each other, the speaker asked them what they thought the overriding theme of the story of Joseph was. All the Western missionaries said the story of Joseph is about redemption. All the African pastors said it was a story about a family (Elliot, Joseph, pg. xiii). In some senses, both are right. The story of Joseph, the dreamer, is the story of the redemption of a family. This family is a very dysfunctional family, but I’ve come to believe that all of us are dysfunctional in some way. We all have our own brands of dysfunction, we all need healing to some degree, but we don’t notice it because we’re in the middle of it. So for the next few weeks we’re going to look at the story of Joseph’s family, consider what his family has to say about ours, and we’ll see what God has to offer us in terms of redemption, healing and hope.

To understand any family, we need to know a little bit about the background. Every family is what it is at least in part because of its context, and Joseph’s family is certainly no exception. Joseph grows up with ten older brothers, one younger brother and who knows how many sisters (there is only one named in Genesis, but there may have been more). He has three step-mothers, only one of whom is actually married to his father (the other two were maids who helped produce sons for their mistresses) and his own mother died while giving birth to his younger brother. His father, Jacob is a schemer and a liar who was the favorite child of his mother. You’d think he would have learned his lesson, but instead he chooses a favorite child as well. Guess which child that is? It’s Joseph, the oldest son of his favorite wife.

And it’s not just that Jacob tells Joseph he’s the favorite in private; he makes sure everyone else knows it, too. He does that by giving him a special robe. Some older translations call it a “coat of many colors,” which is where Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Weber got their inspiration for the “amazing technicolor dreamcoat.” Other translations call it a “robe with sleeves” (RSV) or an “ornate robe” (NIV). We don’t really know what it looked like, but we can pretty much guess its purpose. For one, in that culture, if you were out in the fields, you didn’t want something with long sleeves or even a long coat getting in your way. So Joseph wearing a “coat with sleeves” or a fancy “ornamental robe” would indicate to others that he didn’t have to work. He would be considered part of the “elite class.” In fact, paintings from the era show well-dressed Canaanites wearing a robe with long sleeves and a fringed scarf wrapped from waist to knee (Walton, Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament, pg. 68). Trying to work in such an outfit would be difficult, not to mention hot in that desert environment. Some even speculate that this robe was meant to mark Joseph as the heir apparent, that he would take over the responsibilities of the head of the family once his father died, ahead of his older brothers (Elliot 16). And more than that, this robe was likely expensive. In a subsistence culture, you didn’t waste resources on things for decoration. Clothing was meant to be practical, not elaborate. Joseph was apparently the only one in the family who got such a thing, and so it told everyone clearly that he was special. He was the favorite. He was loved more than anyone else in the family. To sum it all up, he would be seen as a spoiled rich kid. Is it any wonder we are told that Joseph’s brothers “hated him and could not speak a kind word to him” (37:4)? And you think your family has problems?

It’s a leadership principle that you get exactly the results that the system you work in was designed to produce. That applies to physical or emotional and spiritual systems. So think about the family system Joseph grows up in: polygamy (with one wife who is unloved), bitter jealousy, rivalry, favoritism, manipulation, uncherished kids alongside racial, ethnic and religious tension. What kind of family do you suppose you would get out of that sort of context, that system? Apparently, one that plots to kill one of their brothers and ends up selling him as a slave (Elliot 9), but that’s getting ahead of the story. Here’s the point: Joseph grows up in a mess because of sin and the broken nature of the world and the ability of human beings to find a way to always make a mess of things (cf. Elliot 9). Now, think for a moment about the context in which you grew up and the family you have lived in and how that contributed to the person you are. For many of us, the only way we have broken out of the difficulty and the struggle of the past is by the grace of God. It’s only by that grace that we have any hope at all of breaking the cycle of dysfunction. We have to choose to either let our past and our circumstances control and define us or to cling to God’s grace and allow him to change it all. “God is never limited by our failing choices or the choices that others have recklessly imposed on us” (Elliot 11). We’ll see that worked out in the story of Joseph in the weeks to come.

But back to the beginning of the story. Now, before we completely blame the past and the culture, we have to admit that Joseph does not do himself any favors. We should remember that, according to the author, Joseph is seventeen when these things take place (cf 37:2). What were you like when you were seventeen? At that age, just on the cusp of adulthood, many of us were beginning to think we knew pretty much all we needed to know. For some of us, seventeen was an age when life was great, maybe the best it ever had been. We had a full head of hair, we could eat whatever we wanted, we were excited about the future. For others, the teenage years are something we’d rather forget: awkward interactions with others, our skin waging war against us and days when it felt like everyone was watching you and judging what you did (cf. Heath, What’s Your Story?, pgs. 9-10). Seventeen can be a wonderful, difficult, joyous, heartbreaking time. I graduated from high school when I was seventeen, turned eighteen a month later and then moved to college about six weeks after that. Seventeen going on eighteen was a time of huge change in my life, moving from the small town of Sedalia to the “big town” of Muncie, leaving behind everything I had known all my life to share a small room with a guy who disagreed with most of my life choices and share a bathroom with a whole floor full of guys I had never met before. It’s a tumultuous time, and I imagine it was for you, too. It’s at that awkward, wonderful age, that we meet Joseph, the dreamer, the favorite child of Jacob.

Now, remember, he’s not having to work too hard, but sometimes (it seems) he would go out to tend the flocks alongside his brothers, but on those occasions when he did, Genesis says, he would come back and tattle on his brothers. Genesis says Joseph “brought their father a bad report about” his brothers (37:2). Brothers do that; I get that. My brother and I did that on a regular basis. Sometimes friends who are like brothers do that to each another, too. We were at a church potluck one time when Christopher and his best friend Nick both came running in from the playground. Both were crying. Christopher was faster, so he came straight to us to get his story out first, and it was this: “Nick hit me back!” So I get it, but don’t you think that when Joseph already knew he wasn’t liked by his brothers, he might try to work it out or find a way to get along? But not 17-year-old Joseph. He works hard at being disliked by his brothers.

And then there are the dreams. Joseph is often known as “the dreamer,” but he only dreams here in the very beginning of his story. At least those are the only dreams we’re told about. Later on in the story, he will interpret dreams, so it’s safe to say that dreams follow Joseph all throughout his life. But dreams are funny things. Sometimes they make sense but most often they seem to be a collection of random images that filter through our subconscious. The Pixar film Inside Out from a few years ago imagines that it happens something like this.

In the ancient world, dreams were understood to be one way God speaks to us. Throughout the whole of the Old Testament, dreams are never understood to be just a human or a psychological phenomenon. When the Old Testament talks about dreams, it always assigns supernatural significance to them (Goldingay, Genesis for Everyone, Part Two, pg. 132). As I wrote on my blog this week, Joseph’s father had a dream long before Jospeh was born, a vision of a ladder into heaven with angels going up and down on it. Some of the prophets receive their messages in a dream, and last Advent, of course, we talked about another Joseph who received a message from God in a dream, one that told him to risk his life and his reputation to help raise the Son of God. I believe God still speaks to people in dreams, but I don’t believe every dream is a message from God. I know some of you don’t think you dream at all, or you don’t remember anything from your dreams if you do. I am one who has always had vivid dreams—I call them adventure dreams. Someone told me once it’s because I watch too much Star Wars and Indiana Jones—as if there was such as thing as too much! But I digress! The point is: I often remember my dreams, and some mornings it seems clear what God is trying to say to me. I woke up one morning several years ago with a whole Lenten sermon series in my head, and it became apparent that it was what we needed in that moment. Then there are other times when I describe my dream to Cathy, my personal counselor, and I get that look that says, “I think you shouldn’t have had that burrito so late last night.” So not every dream is directly from God, but Joseph seemed to sense that these two dreams in particular were a message, a way of preparing him for what was to come. The problem is, at seventeen years old, Joseph didn’t have the maturity to know (a) to keep his mouth shut and (b) to truly interpret the dream.

Joseph’s two dreams are similar but use different images. In the first dream, Joseph is with his brothers in the field, and there are stacks of grain that represent each of them. Then, Joseph’s grain stands up while the grain of the brothers bows down. Joseph’s understanding, and that of the brothers as well, is that he will one day rule over them. I mean, why wouldn’t he think that? He has the coat! He’s the heir apparent! When Dad is gone, he will be in charge—so he believes. Maybe he and Jacob have even talked about it. The dream—and more probably, his interpretation of the dream—makes his brothers hate him even more. Then he has another dream, this one taking place in outer space where Joseph sees the sun, moon and eleven stars all bowing down to him. Let me just say how remarkable that image is when you consider it was written in the midst of a world that had no understanding as we do of the way the universe works. Sun, moon, stars—everything out in the cosmos, but again, Joseph understands the vision as centering around him. And, again, in his seventeen-year-old arrogance, he can’t help but tell his family about it. If he were alive today, he would send out a tweet with a selfie or post a proud picture on Instagram. #dreams #bowdowntome He even makes his father mad this time. “Will your mother [he must mean step-mother because Rachel, Joseph’s mother, is dead by this time] and I and your brothers actually come and bow down to the ground before you?” (37:10). The implied answer here is “no, we don’t plan to do that.” And then look at verse 11: the brothers are jealous, and the NIV says, “his father kept the matter in mind.” Other translations say Jacob “wondered what the dreams meant” (NLT) or he “brooded over the whole business” (MSG).

Let’s sum up the whole incident this way: it’s a mess. Joseph, and his father, and the brothers, have made a real mess of things. It’s not just one person; it’s everyone working together, or rather working against one another. And, as we will see in the weeks to come, it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better. These dreams Joseph has had are, in fact, messages from God, but they are not telling him what he thinks they are. That’s the tricky thing with dreams: they are so easy to misinterpret, to understand in light of what we already want to think or do. Now, that’s not to say Joseph won’t end up in charge; that part of the message is pretty clear and as we will see in a few weeks, he does end up in charge. (Spoiler alert) His brothers will bow down before him, but it will not be an easy road and it won’t happen in the way he thinks it will or in any way he might have planned. By bragging about the dreams, but giving his own interpretation, by taking offense at a message from God, this family has found itself in a real mess.

So what does this mess have to say to us? Right here, at this point in the story, what can we learn or what can we reflect upon? First of all, I think we can say we’re in good company when we admit that we’re a mess and that our families are often a mess. I can’t help but wonder what might have happened in Joseph’s story if they had taken a moment here to deal with the mess that was their reality. The first step in the twelve-step program, whether that’s AA or Celebrate Recovery, is to admit you have a problem, that you’re a mess and that you can’t fix it on your own. So let's admit when we’re a mess. A lot of times we come to church and think we have to pretend that we have it all together. You know you’ve done it—where you’re having an argument on the way to church, and as soon as you walk in the door you put on the smile and pretend like nothing is wrong. We think we have to pretend we have it all together because we believe everyone else has it all together. Do you know what the definition of a hypocrite is? The word comes from a Greek word that described an actor, someone who wears a mask. From time to time, we’re all hypocrites, especially when we fail to admit the truth about ourselves.

So let’s move a step closer to honesty this morning: I don’t have it all together. I make mistakes. Sometimes I don’t do what I think I should and sometimes I do what I shouldn’t. Sometimes I’m distracted and I don’t respond the way I should. Sometimes I get angry, sometimes I get hurt, and sometimes I just want to quit. I’m a mess—and so are you. Let’s just admit it, because admitting it is the first step on the road to healing. Joseph and his family kept piling on the mess because they couldn’t or wouldn’t or just didn’t admit that everything they did made a mess of things. So let’s drop the masks and be real. We’re a mess. I am. You are. Turn to the person next to you and just say it: “I’m a mess. And so are you.”

Here’s the good news, friends: God can use a mess. God can’t use perfection, because when we are convinced we have it all together, when we believe we are perfect, we don’t really need God then. Or we think we don’t. We become self-reliant. We don’t need anyone, least of all God. It’s in the midst of the mess, when we admit that are far from perfect, when we realize that we can’t do it on our own—that is something and someone God can use. One of the phrases that is often used at Celebrate Recovery is that God will turn your mess into a message. God can use your mess, if you will let him into the middle of it. So turn to the person next to you and say, “God can use your mess.”

Now, here’s the other good news I want to share with you today out of Joseph’s story. Even if you are a mess, even if your family is a mess, God can bring good out of it. God can still use you. God might even bring a Joseph out of your mess. There is nothing and no situation that can stop God from moving in and through your life—except for you. You can choose to walk away from God. You can choose to ignore God. You can choose to resist God and he will not force his way in. But if you open your life up, as Joseph will in the coming weeks, God can use you and God can use your mess to bless others.

So, let me share just a few things you can specifically do in the middle of your mess. The first thing is to give your kids and your grandkids and your neighbor kids and whatever kids are in your life over to God. When my kids were little, I would pray with and for them every night. We would read some stories before bed, and then we would pray together. But later on, after they were sound asleep, I would go into their rooms, sit on the edge of the bed and pray for them, giving them to God and asking God to protect them, use them, and let them know they are loved. Years and years ago, when I was a children’s choir director, I memorized and came to believe the truth of Proverbs 22:6. I learned it this way: “Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it.” The NIV puts it this way: “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.” I still believe that. The things we pour into our children and our grandchildren at an early age are not wasted. The seeds we plant will sprout and grow. It might take time. It might take years. And there’s a chance we might not even see it happen. But I believe those words are true: what we plant will root deeply. So pray for your kids, for pray your grandkids, pray for whatever kids are in your sphere of influence. Give them to God, and God will use your mess.

But there’s more we can do than pray. Prayer is always first, but the next thing we have to ask as parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and concerned friends is this: what kind of an example am I setting? What are they learning by your example? I had always heard that kids imitate what they see, but that came home in full color one Sunday when I came into the dining room after worship and found Christopher at the table, tearing up a slice of bread into little pieces. I was trying to set the table and get lunch ready, so I said to him, “What in the world are you doing?” He looked up at me and said, “This is the body of Christ, given for you.” They’re watching what you do, and they know what your priorities are by the things you do. We can say all we want that our family’s spiritual welfare is a priority, but do the actions we take convey that? One of my most vivid memories from my childhood, and I think I’ve shared this before (but I only have so many stories, so you’ll probably hear them a lot) is this: every evening, after dinner was over and the work of the day was done, my dad would sit in his rocking chair with his Bible in his lap. He would be reading the Upper Room devotional or reading his Sunday School lesson, something every night. Sometimes he would fall asleep with the Bible in his lap. I learned that, to my Dad, spiritual discipline was a priority. Now, Bible apps are great, I use one myself, but when your kids see you on that, do they know you are reading the Bible? Or do they think you’re checking Facebook? We have to be intentional and think about how what we do impacts the kids around us.

This event that is coming up, ParentCue Live, is a great opportunity to hear from some renowned experts about how to invest spiritually into your kids. I told Ginger last week that I wish something like that had happened when my kids were little! And we still have some free tickets; other than time and travel, you’re not having to spend anything. There’s no reason not to go. Let me ask you another thing about spiritual investment: what do your kids learn from you about the importance of worship? The importance of study? Do they see you making Sunday worship and Sunday School and LifeGroup or some other study a priority? Do you bring them to Sunday School or youth group so they can study the Scriptures? Are they paying attention during worship? Do they see you paying attention during worship? Do they see you worshipping or doing something else? In the midst of our messes, our children learn by our example. What are yours learning from you?

As we head into the story of Joseph, let’s pause this morning and evaluate where we are right now. What is the shape of our mess? The good news is that it’s never too late to start again. It’s never too late to develop new practices, new habits. We can start today to develop a spiritual legacy and to allow God to break into the mess we find ourselves in. It only takes one first step: to pray and ask God to use us, to redeem our mess, and to help us move forward in confidence and faith. Toward that end, let’s pray.