Blessed Are the Dysfunctional
Genesis 37:1-28
One of my favorite SNL sketches aired in the early ‘90s and was called “Dysfunctional Family Feud.” The premise is a parody of the popular game show Family Feud, with the difference being that all of the answers to the questions are based on the survey responses of dysfunctional families. As you might imagine, among the two competing families, the more dysfunctional they are the better in tune they’re likely to be with the survey answers.
That’s no problem at all for the Thorton family. The father, played by the late Phil Hartman, is a stern, hypercritical authoritarian who can barely contain his contempt for his two sons. One son, played with manic energy by the late Chris Farley, has internalized his father’s criticisms and clearly yearns for his approval. The other son, played by host Christian Slater, rebels against his father by projecting an air of above-it-all cynicism. The women of the family fare no better. The daughter is withdrawn and silent, and the wife tries to hold the family together with a smile and wishful thinking.
By contrast, their competition, the Rileys, seem to have come from a 1950s family sitcom like Father Knows Best. They are a wholesome, loving, supportive family, which means that they are at a distinct disadvantage in playing Dysfunctional Family Feud. When they are asked to name something that a family says to a recent college graduate, their wholesomeness proves a hindrance.
“Congratulations,” one of them says. Sorry, not on the board.
“We’re so proud of you,” says another. Survey says, wrong answer.
“We…love you?” Strike three!
Over to the Thorton family. Needing just one of the two remaining answers, they shout out options for the father to choose from, including, “You should have gone to trade school” and “College has changed you. We don’t know you anymore.” However, ever the authoritarian, the father decides to go out on his own and answers, “I bet you think you’re smarter than me now.”
The Thortons, who are already returning champions, go on to win easily, their profound dysfunctions propelling them to yet another victory.
Believe it or not, the Scripture passage from Genesis 37 shows a similar dynamic at play—a family with all kinds of dysfunctions but who somehow manage to prosper in spite of themselves. That “somehow,” of course, is not due to any inherent quality they possess but rather to the grace of a God who uses not only the dysfunctional but even the worst of sinners to achieve God’s good aims.
Our journey through Genesis is nearly drawing to a close. Over the course of nine weeks we’ve read about Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and now today our attention turns to Jacob’s sons, and one son in particular—Joseph. Today’s reading ends on a cliffhanger, with Joseph sold into slavery and sent to Egypt. We’ll find out what becomes of Joseph next week, in what will be the final chapter of this family saga.
As we meet them today, Jacob has led the family back to Canaan, the land that God had promised to Jacob’s grandfather Abraham. The family is on much stabler footing than where we left them last week. You may remember that Jacob feared for his life and the lives of his entire family when he heard that his brother Esau, who had vowed to kill him, was headed his way with four hundred men. However—spoiler alert—that portion of the story had a happy ending. Esau wanted to find his brother not for revenge but for reconciliation.
There have been other significant events in the life of the family. Jacob’s wife Rachel gave birth to her second son, Benjamin, who was the last of Jacob’s twelve sons. Tragically, Rachel died giving birth to Benjamin. Then, shortly after Rachel’s death, Jacob’s father Isaac also died, “old and full of days.” His two sons, Jacob and Esau, now reconciled, buried him together.
Benjamin’s older brother, Joseph, the eleventh of the twelve sons, and the only other son born to Rachel, is now seventeen years old. Because he was the oldest child of Jacob’s favored wife Rachel, Joseph is his father’s favorite son. Like blue eyes or a dimpled chin, favoritism seems to be a family trait that passes from one generation to the next. Abraham favored Isaac over Ishmael. Isaac favored Esau over Jacob. And now Jacob favors Joseph over all his other sons. Rather than learning from the mistakes of his ancestors, Jacob repeats them.
For his part, Joseph does not downplay his favored status but appears to revel in it. When his brothers are out in the fields shepherding their father’s flocks, Joseph finds reason to criticize them before their father. And when Jacob presents Joseph with an expensive ornamented robe, Joseph is now literally able to wear his status as favorite son on his sleeve. While Joseph’s robe may be kaleidoscopic in color, the statement it makes is less about fashion and more about favoritism. It virtually screams, “This is my favorite son!”
As much as Joseph flaunts his favored status, his brothers do not hide their hatred of Joseph. They cannot even bring themselves to speak peaceably to him. Their default setting is resentment. Even if you knew nothing of what the brothers will eventually do to Joseph, it’s not hard to imagine that something bad is brewing. The dynamic within this family is not healthy. Things are deeply amiss. A reckoning is coming.
The Lectionary omits the next part of the story about Joseph’s dreams, but I’ve included it because the dreams are the tipping point at which the brothers’ resentment turns to rage and the unthinkable begins to seem inevitable. You hear it in how they refer to him later as “this dreamer.” More than the ornamented robe even, it’s Joseph’s dreams in which his brothers bow before him that truly set them off. A fancy robe is one thing, but the notion that their kid brother is in some way superior to them—and that they will bow down to him—is one they cannot abide.
Jacob even rebukes his son for his lofty dreams, but perhaps because God has already spoken to him earlier in the dream of the ladder, Jacob doesn’t dismiss his son’s dreams entirely but is said to keep the matter in mind. That will prove significant when we read part 2 of the story next week.
Once again the brothers are out shepherding their father’s flocks without Joseph. Jacob then sends Joseph out to find them and report back to him. The brothers are not in the usual spot, so Jacob has to expend some time and effort tracking them down. When they spot him approaching from a distance, they prepare to kill him. Yet, one of the brothers, Reuben, the oldest, persuades his brothers to spare Joseph’s life. Rather than killing him, let’s just throw him into this pit here in the middle of nowhere.
They do the deed. They seize Joseph, strip him of his robe, and throw him down into the pit. And then they eat lunch! Verse 25 actually says that “they sat down to eat.” What it doesn’t say is that they could probably hear the cries of their brother as they were enjoying their picnic! The villainy is almost cartoonishly evil. And it’s about to get worse.
While they’re eating they see a passing caravan of traders. Judah has a sudden burst of inspiration. What profit is it if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? I have a better idea. Let’s sell him into slavery and make a buck or two. Let’s not lay our hands on him. After all, he is our brother, our own flesh.
And to a man, the brothers all agree. They sell Joseph to the Ishmaelites, descendants of Ishmael, the half brother of their grandfather Isaac, for twenty pieces of silver. Joseph is then led away to Egypt.
And that’s how the reading ends! Joseph is sold into slavery. His brothers get away with—not quite murder—but an outrageous, egregious sin. Man, what were the Lectionary editors thinking? This is dark! Where is the good news?
I have to say, I’m glad the Lectionary ends the reading here, with this unresolved tension. Why? Because it’s real. It’s honest. Isn’t this how life can be sometimes? Those who do evil—without shame, without conscience—sometimes not only get away with it but prosper from it! Where is justice? Where is righteousness? Where is God in the midst of this flagrant sin? How can God allow this?
But just because God is not mentioned in the story thus far does not mean that God is not present, not active, not working good in what at first glance appears to be a situation that is entirely irredeemable.
Did you notice that God is never mentioned in this passage? Not in a single one of the twenty-eight verses does God appear. God’s presence is hidden…from Joseph, from his brothers, and from us. But just because God is not mentioned in the story thus far does not mean that God is not present, not active, not working good in what at first glance appears to be a situation that is entirely irredeemable.
The first hint of God’s presence is how Jacob responds when he learns of Joseph’s dream. Yes, he is shocked and offended to hear his son tell of his dream in which the sun, moon, and eleven stars—in other words, the whole family—bowed down to him. But Jacob doesn’t dismiss the dream entirely. He knows from his own experience that God speaks through dreams. He files Joseph’s dream in the back of his mind.
The second hint is in the last sentence of the last verse: “And they took Joseph to Egypt.” The brothers think they’ve heard the last that they’ll ever hear from their little brother and his ludicrous dreams. But unbeknownst to them, the life that Joseph leads in Egypt, and the position of influence that he rises to, will one day be the salvation of this family. God will use this evil act—done with malice aforethought—to save this family. And God will use this deeply dysfunctional family to bring salvation to the world.
We often have this notion that people like Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—our spiritual ancestors—must have been unusually gifted and qualified for God to have chosen them. They were God’s agents in the world. Surely God chose them because they were the most righteous of people of their generation and were richly deserving of God’s blessings.
But, I mean, all you have to do is read the Bible to see how laughable that idea is! Here we have the first family of Israel—Jacob and his twelve sons, who will go on to found the twelve tribes of Israel—and what do we see? Pride. Envy. Wrath. Greed. And we just met them! Wait ’til we get to know them!
Right down the street from here, over on Clove Ave., is a small brick building that was once a synagogue. You can still see the name on the building: “Sons of Jacob.” I smile whenever I walk past it. Sons of Jacob? What kind of name is that for a holy sanctuary? Those guys were scoundrels!
Indeed, they were, and that’s precisely the point. God doesn’t need us to have our lives all sorted out in order to use us to work God’s good purposes. God doesn’t call the morally perfect because such people don’t exist. God calls sinners. Sinners like Jacob, who played favorites with his children. Sinners like Joseph, who lorded his favored status over his brothers. Sinners like Joseph’s brothers whose envy of their brother was all consuming.
The pattern continues into the New Testament. Jesus doesn’t call as his disciples those who would have been regarded as the most righteous of their day—the chief priests, the scribes, and the Pharisees. No, Jesus chooses people like Peter, who will one day deny him. He chooses James and John who will seek their own glory above all else. He chooses a sinner like Judas, who will betray him. He chooses Thomas, who will doubt him. And he chooses you and me, even though we’ve done all of the above and then some. And that right there is the good news. Our dysfunctions, no matter how deep, no matter how many, do not disqualify us from God’s grace.