February 27, 2022
Hope Lutheran Church
Rev. Mary Erickson
Luke 9:28-36; Genesis 45:3-11, 15
Mercy, Forgiveness, and a Stolen Coat
Friends, may grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and Christ Jesus our Lord.
The words of our Lord: “And from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt.” (Luke 6:29)
A story of a coat. We hear this morning the story of Joseph reunited with his 11 brothers. It’s the joyful climax to an epic story. But long before this reunion of blessing and mercy, there was a coat, a stolen coat.
The coat first showed up years earlier, and the dysfunction of the family was woven into its fibers. This coat was a special gift to Joseph from his doting father, Jacob. Jacob had favorites among his sons. Those preferences led to resentment and jealousy between brothers. Joseph was the favored one, and that blasted coat was a daily reminder to his brothers.
For Joseph, the coat meant something much different. It assured him of his father’s abiding love. He wrapped himself up in its warm embrace. But for his brothers, every time they saw Joseph in the coat, it was a bitter reminder that they weren’t equally valued by their father. They hated the coat, and they hated Joseph.
It didn’t help that Joseph rubbed salt in the wound. He told his brothers fanciful dreams where they submitted to him.
Well, one day the occasion presented itself for the brothers to rid themselves of the coat and their loathsome brother. The ten brothers were tending sheep in a remote area. Father Jacob sent Joseph to meet them to bring back news. Of course, he wore his flashy coat, so his brothers spied him while he was still quite some distance away.
When he arrived, the brothers seized Joseph and ripped him out of his coat. Then they threw him in a pit and there he stayed until some nomads passed through on their way to Egypt. The brothers sold Joseph to them.
They killed a goat and soiled Joseph’s coat, the coat they so despised, with the blood. When they returned home, they showed the bloody coat to their father. “Father! Look what we found! Is it Joseph’s coat?” The grieving Jacob could only deduce that his most beloved son was killed by a wild animal and dragged off.
The years pass and their lives go on. But Jacob grieves after his beloved Jacob, and the brothers live under the conspiracy of their guilt.
Meanwhile, Joseph goes from bad to worse. In Egypt he’s sold as a slave to an official named Potiphar. Potiphar’s wife covets after Joseph. He rebuffs her advances. But finally, she grabs him. Joseph struggles to escape, and in doing so, he loses yet another garment. He lost his coat, and now he gives up his shirt. And just like his special coat, this lost garment is also used against him. Joseph winds up in prison.
But then, through an unexpected twist of fate, he rises to incredible power. He becomes the vice-regent to the Pharaoh. Imagine the robes he wears now!
It’s dressed in these regal Egyptian robes that Joseph meets his brothers many years later. They don’t recognize him. Joseph looks completely different. He’s grown up and he inhabits a position of power higher than their imaginations will allow them to consider. But he recognizes them.
For so many years, Joseph suffered separation from his family and aching loneliness. He lived as an exile, cut off from his native land. He endured the helplessness of slavery, the hunger and cold and oppressive heat of prison. But now Joseph finds himself in a position of almost unlimited power. And before him stand the perpetrators of all his agony: his very own brothers.
Joseph is in a position where he could exact crushing punishment on his brothers. He could demand eye for eye. He could have them stripped and sold into slavery. But that’s not what he does.
Joseph begins to weep. All of the pain and loneliness and injustice he endured simply dissolves into tears. And it wasn’t polite sniffles. It was ugly crying. He sobbed so loudly that the Egyptians could hear him all the way to Pharaoh’s palace. The dam broke, and the flood of all his sorrows was released.
What were his brothers thinking as they watched Egypt’s second in command break down before them like a helpless, lost child?
Those tears flushed him clean. It purified him and allowed him to do what he did next. He showed mercy and forgiveness to his brothers.
Joseph was blessed with a vision beyond hatred. It allowed him to see that God’s good will is stronger than evil. God worked through all the dysfunction and resentment and suffering and abandonment. God picked up all of the shattered remnants of human failure and forged a plan to bring abundance and blessing. It delivered life to Joseph and his brothers and to all living souls in the region.
As Joseph looked back on the long journey that brought him to this place, he realized that in God, life is greater than death, mercy is greater than hate. And Joseph chose to align himself and his energies with God’s good divine plan. He chose to be an instrument of peace, he chose to release his pain and dwell in the abundance found only in forgiveness.
From Joseph’s stolen coat to Jesus’ message. Jesus preaches to us the ways of God. They are foreign to us; they’re counterintuitive. When we’ve been struck, our first instinct is to strike back. Doing good to those who despise us and returning curse with blessing sound like sure way to be taken advantage of.
And yet, this is exactly what our Lord did himself. He didn’t only preach these words; he lived them. In his final hours, he turned his cheek to receive a kiss from his betrayer. At the foot of his cross, his executioners took his coat from him and cast lots to claim it. And from his cross, in his final hours, expecting nothing in return, he prayed, “Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing.”
When it was all over, it seemed like his marvelous plan had crashed and dead-ended in his grave. But then on Easter morning, he demonstrated the full power of divine love. The measure he gave was pressed down, shaken together, and running over. The tomb burst forth with life and grace and mercy.
Our sermon hymn echoes this reality. The words were written by the Anglican Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Bishop Tutu died just last year in December. During his ministry, Tutu was an outspoken prophetic voice against Apartheid. After the end of Apartheid, President Nelson Mandela placed Tutu in charge of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. That commission forged a way for the people of South Africa to heal hatred and resentment through the balm of forgiveness.
His brief prayer, “Victory Is Ours” was included in his book, An African Prayer Book. The words were set to music by the Iona Community of the Church of Scotland. Tutu’s prayer says yes to the power of divine mercy and forgiveness:
Goodness is stronger than evil;
Love is stronger than hate;
Light is stronger than darkness;
Life is stronger than death;
Victory is ours, victory is ours through God who loves us.
Victory is ours, victory is ours, through God who loves us.
Let’s sing this hymn of mercy and forgiveness.
