What Goes around Comes Around; February 24, 2019; Pastor Rebecca Ellenson; ICCM
There’s a scientific law called Newton’s third law of motion. It goes: “For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”? Or maybe you’ve heard another version of that idea—What goes around comes around.
It’s true in science and it’s also true when it comes to human relationships, isn’t it? Our choices have consequences, and sometimes those consequences outlive us. We see that in the lives of the families written about in Genesis. Today’s reading comes at the end of a four generation saga. We often focus on just an isolated story from Genesis. If you haven’t ever read through the whole epic journey of Abraham’s family I encourage you to do so. There is a lesson about God’s grace and the option of forgiveness that runs through chapters 12-50 of Genesis like a red thread through the fabric of this great book. The characters are true to life—not like superheroes of faith, but men and women riddled with self-doubt, trickery and scheming. The repercussions of their bad choices ripple out, again and again, over generations and finally it is grace and mercy that carries the day.
For those of us who think our families are dysfunctional, well, these families make yours and mine look rather normal, if not downright boring. Just think about the wild ride they’ve all been on:
- Abram claimed that his wife Sarah was his sister because he could tell the king of Egypt was interested in her, and Abraham was scared he’d be killed. Nice.
- Sarah convinced Abraham to have a child with her slave, Hagar, then tried to kill both Hagar and the child when she got jealous.
- Abraham almost sacrificed his son Isaac on an altar.
- Isaac and his wife Rebekah raised two sons Esau and Jacob, each the favorite of one of their parents. Their sibling rivalry was extreme, a matter of life and death. After tricking his brother Esau out of his inheritance Jacob ran away to his Uncle Laban.
- Laban lied to him and tricked him out of marrying his true love, Rachel—on his wedding day, no less. Jacob wound up with two wives and two concubines, 12 sons and a daughter. He destroys his relationship with his uncle Laban and after a 20-year estrangement from his birth family, Jacob fled once again, this time back to his homeland, hoping his brother Esau wouldn’t kill them all.
- Esau, remarkably forgave his long lost brother’s deception and betrayal and Jacob was able to return home and raise his big family there.
- Rachel, Jacob’s favorite, died while giving birth to Benjamin, leaving Jacob grieving and clinging to her memory through the favoritism to the two boys she bore.
As I said, what goes around comes around. It’s a fascinating saga—of betrayal and deception and ultimately of forgiveness and the power of grace to transform and restore.
- Joseph, one of Rachel’s boys, the second to the youngest of the 12 sons of Jacob, had been assigned a sort of supervisory position in the family business, at the tender age of 17. He was responsible for reporting back on the activities of his brothers—who were busy managing Jacob’s herds and flocks.
- To make matters worse, Jacob had given Joseph a beautiful coat that reminded anyone who saw it, which son had the favor of their father . . . and which ones didn’t. Day after day, Joseph would come down to the fields and strut up and down, his beautiful coat swinging easily around his ankles, his brothers work clothes drab in comparison. Then he would hurry back to his father Jacob and report any indiscretions he observed, any questionable behavior he saw in his brothers. Joseph’s behavior, totally encouraged by his father Jacob, was bound to have a ripple effect.
- And, it did. Boy, did it ever. The straw that broke the camel’s back happened one day when Joseph traveled to where his brothers were working and proceeded to tell them about some dreams he had had, dreams about all the brothers out in the fields, binding sheaves of wheat, when suddenly all the brothers’ sheaves bowed down to Joseph’s. And another dream, about the sun, the moon and 11 stars, all bowing down to Joseph.
Joseph interpreted those dreams to mean that he was to be in charge. The meaning of the dreams was obvious to Joseph’s brothers, too, and they were sick of it . . . sick of Jacob’s favoritism, sick of feeling second best, sick of Joseph’s arrogance . . . just sick of the whole situation.
And so the narrative ball keeps rolling; you know what happened. The brothers plotted to kill Joseph out there in the field one day and throw his body into a pit. But somebody’s conscience was pricked—Reuben and Judah convinced their brothers to sell Joseph to a passing caravan, to get him far, far away and out of their hair forever.
They staged the whole thing, killed an animal and smeared that beautiful coat with blood. Then they took it back to their father who assumed Joseph was dead. Jacob’s grief nearly crippled him, he was so devastated by the loss. Then, life continued, as it always does even in the face of tragedy and violence and pain. The brothers probably felt avenged for a lifetime of favoritism. But every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and you’d better believe the brothers’ behavior had consequences.
This saga continues with Joseph’s adventures as a slave, then advisor to Pharoah, culminating finally in Joseph’s forgiveness. God appears in all manner of ways in the stories of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but here in the Joseph sa story, God is not mentioned. All we have are the actions and reactions of human beings, trying desperately to live in community, in family, with each other, and not doing too well at all.
It was unjust and unfair, no matter how you look at it. No one deserved the treatment they got, not Joseph’s brothers, not Joseph, not Jacob. But, they made choices to address what they experienced as injustice with other acts of injustice or violence. Except for Esau who broke the cycle with his forgiveness, and finally Joseph does the same at the very end of the story. Newton’s third law of motion operates throughout, as we know by now it always does. When faced with injustice we have a choice about how to respond. And remember, every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
Simon Wiesenthal was a Jew who lived during World War II in an area of Europe that was conquered by Germany. During the war he was forced to live in a ghetto and then sent to a work camp where he faced the possibility of death every day. One day in the work camp, Wiesenthal was summoned by a nurse to hear the dying confessions of an SS Nazi soldier. The soldier asked for forgiveness for the things he had done to the Jewish people; he wanted forgiveness as he was dying because he was afraid that his soul would not be able to rest in eternity unless he was forgiven.
In his book The Sunflower Wiesenthal tells about trying over and over to leave the room because he was so afraid and because he hated Nazis. But he stayed and listened to the dying man out of pity and also because the soldier begged him not to leave. Wiesenthal recognized that the Nazi soldier was showing true repentance but he also knew that the soldier was ignorant, selfish, and a member of the group that had taken away the lives of his friends and family.
Overwhelmed with the heaviness of the decision, Wiesenthal eventually just left the room. The next day he found out that the soldier had died and left all his things to Wiesenthal; Wiesenthal spent the rest of his life asking the question: “What would you have done?”
The book’s newest edition includes the contributions of many noted Jewish and Christian thinkers who comment on the dilemma Wiesenthal faced. Most agree that Wiesenthal could not have forgiven that solider on behalf of an entire race of people, but many also note: there’s something powerful in stopping violence and hatred with forgiveness and love.
Desmond Tutu, who presided over the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa after Apartheid writes of Wiesenthal’s dilemma: “It’s clear that if we look only toward a retributive justice, we might as well close up shop. Forgiveness is not some nebulous thing. It is practical politics. Without forgiveness, there is no future.”
Often, things happen to us that we can’t control, the same things that happened then: infertility, political oppression, famine. Or it may be that we set out, like Jacob, expecting to marry Rachel and end up married to Leah, or we are betrayed by our brothers. But even when these things happen, we always—always—have a choice about how we will respond to the situations in which we find ourselves.
We can respond to the injustice we face with anger, hatred and violence. Maybe some would say a response like that is even justified. But remember: every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and violence and pain and injustice always . . . always . . . breed more violence and pain and injustice.
What pain could have been avoided if Joseph’s brothers were able to face the unjust situation in which they found themselves and respond, not with violence, but with forgiveness? What if someone had said “I’m sorry?” “Forgive me.”
What pain could we avoid if we train our hearts with the discipline of answering injustice with forgiveness and love? Today – each day – we make choices, like Jacob and Joseph, that impact our lives and the lives of others. What choices will you make? Will you invite God into the process? Choose wisely, dear friends, choose wisely.
Let us pray: O Gracious One, help us to do to others as we would have them do to us, to love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, pray for those who abuse us. Help us to be merciful, as you are. You tell us not to judge, lest we be judged, to forgive and we will be forgiven, to give and it will be given to us, a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, for the measure we give will be the measure we get back. Amen.