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Genesis 43:3-11, 15
Psalm 27:1-11, 39-40
Luke 6:27-31, 37-38

        I had quite a moment last week—a visceral experience of anger that bordered on rage.

        It’s not, of course, that I haven’t been angry for much of the past month as I’ve watched a cabal of rich white men destroy people’s lives, eviscerate life-giving government programs, and dismantle our democracy. But I had managed to keep a lid on most of that anger. I do, after all, need to stay grounded in love and focused on all that is good and beautiful. I am, after all, supposed to model for you how to do that and to encourage us all to keep our eyes on the prize of beloved community, justice, peace, equality, and—underlying it all—love.

        And so I had managed to confine the anger mostly to my head. Because I needed—as we all do—to keep functioning and working for good, I had managed most of the time to hold the outrage at arms’ length.

        But on Tuesday, I felt the kind of rage that moved through my entire body. I was furious. I was livid. Angrier than I’d been in years.

        The reason for my anger—an action by our email provider that felt to me a lot like political censorship—is less important than the reality of it, the visceral awareness that I and most of us are carrying a lot these days. And with that awareness came a reminder that love calls us to intentionality; a place of being able to respond mindfully to all that is happening rather than mindlessly react to it.

        I share this with you to say that, first, all of us are going to have moments like this. None of us is at our best right now. And so it’s more important than ever for us to be gentle with ourselves and tender with one another. It’s more important than ever for us to  quickly forgive less-than-perfect behavior. And second: For the sake of all that is good, we need to be attentive to our feelings and find constructive ways to channel them.

        Fortunately, our scripture lessons this morning both acknowledge the full range of human feelings and experiences and counsel us on how to deal with them.

        The story of Joseph encourages us to find hope and take courage in the long view. Our psalm reminds us to put our trust in God’s justice. And Jesus, as ever, calls us to love and a generosity of spirit.

        Together, our readings provide something of a guide for how to live faithfully in these times. Let’s take them one at a time:

        If you don’t know the story of Joseph—as in “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,” Joseph the youngest of 12 sons and so annoying that his brothers first planned to kill him and then settled for selling him into slavery and telling their father he was dead, Joseph who served and suffered and finally ended up practically running the nation of Egypt—well, if you don’t know that story, I highly commend it to you.

        Time prevents me from re-telling it in all its glory, but it is one of the greatest family stories anywhere, as well as a deeply moving tale of transformation, redemption, forgiveness, reconciliation, and providence.

        By the time Joseph’s brothers have come to Pharaoh’s court to beg for food, so much time has passed that they don’t even recognize their baby brother. So much time has passed that their grief-stricken father now has a 13th son. But Joseph recognizes his brothers and becomes so verklempt that he has to keep excusing himself to go into the other room and weep.

        Finally, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, who immediately realize that their plea for help will be denied. Surely, the brother they rejected will take vengeance on them and turn them away empty-handed.

        But Joseph, who’s been through hell because of his brothers, sees things differently. Looking back over the course of their lives and where they are now, Joseph sees the hand of God at work. What his brothers had meant for ill, God had used for good. While the brothers had sought to end Joseph’s life, Jospeh now had the power to save their lives, their father’s life, all their families and, in so doing, preserve a remnant of the children of Israel.

        So profound is the story of Joseph and his brothers that it offers us many lessons, not the least of which is that sometimes, at least, our salvation will come from those we have wronged. Another is that when times are hard, we would do well to listen to and learn from the wisdom of the oppressed, because they have already suffered far more than we ever will, and they know how to make it through. And, finally, and especially when times are hard, it helps to take the long view. It is easier to see the thread of God’s grace in hindsight, but Joseph’s story encourages us also to trust in the present moment and for the future, to trust that it is there even when we cannot see it.

        Because while God never causes suffering, injustice, or tragedy, God can bring good things out of bad situations.

        So let us take the long view, not only trusting that God’s grace is at work even now, not only holding on to an invisible thread with every ounce of strength and hope that we have, but also putting ourselves in the path of what is good and true that we might be God’s partners in hope and healing.

        Likewise, Psalm 37 offers a good word to those of us who are beside ourselves over the machinations of the wicked. Don’t worry it says; their day will come. Yet a little while, and they will be no more.

        As for you, the psalmist says, trust in God and focus on what you can do. Take time to be still and remember that God is God. Be still and remember all the ways the poor, oppressed, and marginalized have struggled for dignity, equality, and legal rights—and how, slowly but surely tides turned and rights were secured, history was taught, and people of all races, genders, nationalities, and abilities began to receive their due.

        Fret not, the psalm says, when wrongdoers strike back. Fret not when entirely different groups of the poor and oppressed throw their lot in with the wicked, thinking the powerful will save them.

        Instead, trust in God and wait actively and patiently for God, who will champion your cause. Commit your way to Love. Trust in Love’s way, and Love will make a way.

        And if you thought each of our scripture lessons was a little more challenging than the last, you may well be correct, because now we come to Jesus’ charge to love our enemies, be good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for those who mistreat us.

        There is, of course, much to say about all that, but I’ll leave you with just two thoughts. First, notice that Jesus clearly presumes we will have enemies. Jesus presumes there will be people and systems that hate us and curse us and mistreat us. Because if we are doing good, if we are standing with the poor and the marginalized, that is what will happen.

        Secondly, there always have been and there always will be systems and people that amass and maintain power and wealth by oppressing others. This is what we are seeing now. Those at the highest levels of power are declaring that trans folks don’t exist. They are eliminating government programs that promote diversity and equality and threatening corporations that don’t do the same. They are deporting immigrants and firing hard-working, dedicated people from jobs that serve the common good. They’re  shutting down entire agencies and slashing programs that serve the poor and the sick. They’re declaring themselves above the law and by ignoring court rulings; they’re siding with dictators, and ravaging the earth.

        I could go on.

        I could get myself really riled up.

        But what good would that do? Only love can change people. Only love and mercy can heal us and guide us toward wholeness.

        Do your part, Jesus says. Take care of each other and stand together in the power of the Spirit. Live as a child of God: loving, giving, and forgiving even those who don’t deserve it. Live with grace, going out of your way to support others. Live with mercy, extending to others the same mercy you have received.

        Fret not, beloveds. Commit your way to the God of extravagant love and unfailing grace. Trust in God, and God will act.

        Friends, I know this is easier said than done. I know it takes practice. So when we sing our closing hymn in a few minutes, that great spiritual “I Will Trust in the Lord,” let’s sing it as an anthem. Let’s sing it boldly and loudly, with all the strength and love we can muster. 

        God is with us. May we continue to stand for all that is right and good.