When the Coat Fits
THE ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28 • Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22, 45b • Romans 10:5-15 • Matthew 14:22-33
In a recently released children’s movie,* a bedraggled little chihuahua cheerfully tells his brief life story to two horrified cats. The dog was the runt of his litter, and his littermates and human family just loved to play hide-and-seek with him. In their version of hide-and-seek, though, they’d hide him in places like a packing crate, or a dumpster, and then run away.
It’s clear to the cats that this little dog has no idea his family was trying to get rid of him. He just chuckles to himself about his prankster family as his story gets worse: One day, they tied him in a sock, weighed it down with a rock, and threw him into a river. The chihuahua gnawed a hole in the sock and swam to the surface. He never did find his littermates or humans again, but he got a new outfit . . . once he grew into it. Only then do we realize that his scrappy, threadbare sweater with a faded argyle pattern is the very sock he barely escaped from.
***
People have strong opinions about Joseph, the pesky and practically useless little brother we meet in today’s first reading. Because Joseph gives his father a “bad report” of his brothers, some people think Joseph is a tattletale, lying in wait for his brothers to mess up and running to Daddy when they do. Our reading today skips this part, but Joseph also reports obnoxious dreams to his brothers. In one, Joseph dreams they’re all binding sheaves together, and their sheaves rise up and bow down to his. Joseph also dreams that the sun, moon, and eleven stars—one star for each of his brothers—bow down to him too. This kid thinks he’s the center of the universe.
As an oldest sibling myself, it’s hard for me to admit, but maybe Joseph isn’t the spoiled tattletale he might appear to be. Maybe he’s is more like the little chihuahua: completely innocent in telling his stories, oblivious to the antagonism of others, and ignorant that he could be anything but absolutely and unconditionally loved. Perhaps Joseph told his father the simple truth about his brothers neglecting the family flocks, trusting that honesty was the best policy. Perhaps Joseph dreamed his strange dreams with wide, amazed eyes—but eyes that were shut to the effect the dreams had on his brothers when hearing about them.
Where everyone else can see brotherly hatred clearly, Joseph the naive, discardable runt knows nothing but his father’s love. If we give young Joseph the benefit of the doubt, then his story is about the resilient and transforming power of someone who knows with innocence and certainty that they’re loved.
***
Attributing nothing but oblivious innocence to Joseph makes his brothers’ actions seem all the more vicious. When Jacob finds Joseph and instructs him to find his brothers, Joseph replies immediately, “Here I am!”—as if he’s just been waiting for someone to notice him and give him a job to do. He’s probably all alone because his big brothers have ditched him, going off to graze the flocks without the pest they can’t stand, even though they’re supposed to be training him.
When Joseph’s brothers aren’t where they’re supposed to be, Joseph politely asks a stranger to tell him, “please,” where his brothers might be. They’re miles away, in a territory on the trade route from Syria to Egypt, probably seeking out some excitement. Their recklessness makes Joseph’s errand all the more dangerous.
Joseph’s big, innocent, nearly fatal mistake is wearing the special coat, the sign of his father’s love. Perhaps the coat made Joseph feel strong and safe on his journey, but it has the opposite effect: when the brothers spot Joseph in the distance, they see the coat, and it triggers their rage. As Joseph walks unwittingly toward them in his favorite outfit, the brothers plot to throw him into a pit to die and to rot.
As a sign of their cruel indifference, the brothers sit down to a picnic while their brother probably cries from the depths of the earth. Then Judah decides that if they’re going to discard their brother, they might as well make some money off of it. So, they sell their brother to some traders and come out ahead, by their calculations.
***
Spoiler alert: the little chihuahua finds a wishing star, but teaches us to stop wishing for the family we don’t have, and to value the company we do have.
Also a spoiler: Joseph’s life has its ups and downs, but he rises to a position of trust and power in Egypt. Just as Joseph dreamed, his brothers do bow down to him, when they come to Egypt in search of food during a famine. And Judah, whose idea it was to sell Joseph into slavery, offers to be held as a slave himself in place of their youngest brother, Benjamin.
Next Sunday, we’ll see Joseph reveal his identity to his brothers, and ask them not to be distressed or angry at themselves. He’ll invite them to settle in Egypt, with all their children and grandchildren.
Joseph’s sense that he is loved and favored, and his trust that honesty is best, persist throughout his life. I think Joseph shows us what we can do when we know that we’re beloved. But I think Joseph also shows us what can become of the whole human family when we break patterns of favoritism. In his time away from familial dysfunction, Joseph develops a national food storage and distribution program that allows him to feed both his adopted nation and his family.
In today’s reading, Joseph is liberated from a destructive pattern of favoritism. It’s clear that Joseph is a victim of his brothers’ viciousness, but he’s also the victim of the paternal favoritism that makes Joseph the target for his brothers’ animosity.
In the book of Genesis, the Lord himself establishes the pattern of favoritism by favoring Abel over Cain. In later generations, Abraham favors Isaac the son of his wife over Ishmael the son of his slave. Isaac, in turn, favors Esau over Jacob—but lucky for Jacob, he’s favored by his mother, Rebekah. Now, Jacob favors Joseph, a child of his old age and the son of his favorite wife, Rachel.
But in his time away, Joseph learns to disrupt this pattern through stewarding abundance with generosity and grace. Joseph opens space in the story of salvation, and perhaps in the heart of God his father, for a love without favoritism or partiality. Such is the power of someone who knows they’re beloved—and that all the world’s people are worthy of the same. It’s a love that clothes us all, though it can take time to grow into.
* = Puss in Boots and the Last Wish (2022)
© 2023 The Rev. Dr. Lora Walsh
St. Paul’s Episcopal Church – Fayetteville, Arkansas