St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes
Seventh Sunday After the Epiphany/Year C
February 20, 2022
Gospel: Luke 6:27-38
50 years after importing slaves to the United States was made illegal, a ship named, the Clotilda, brought 110 enslaved African people to the shores of the Mobile river delta in Alabama. Because the ship’s arrival with human cargo was illegal, the ship was emptied and burned in 1860. The sunken remains of the ship, including the slave hold, were discovered in 2018. The National Geographic documentary, entitled, “Clotilda: Last American Slave Ship,” features the descendants of two slaves, Kujo Lewis and Gracie, who left written accounts of their experiences from life in their African villages, to being captured, to being on the boat and eventually being split up.
When the documentary was made in 2019, it had only been 160 years since that last American slave ship arrived. This is not ancient history; it is our shared American history. The descendants of those slavery survivors, work to reclaim the history of what their ancestors built—a thriving community of commerce called Africa Town—so that their ancestors’ stories of survival, fortitude, perseverance and new life may be witnessed today. One historian said, “[The Clotilda] is the story of horror, and it becomes hope.”1
In our Genesis passage, we witness a reunion scene between Joseph, vice-regent to the Pharoah king of Egypt, and his estranged brothers. If you are not familiar with the story, Joseph was 17 years old when his jealous brothers turned on him, their father’s favorite son. While they told their father that Joseph had been killed by a wild animal, the brothers actually sold him into slavery for a profit. The brothers had entertained killing Joseph, but Joseph was more valuable to them alive than dead. The brothers’ evil actions to get rid of Joseph, and his gift of dream interpretation, optimally positioned him to be raised up by the Pharaoh from slave to his powerful position at the age of 30. Joseph’s story is a story of horror that becomes hope. And, unbeknownst to his family, Joseph’s life would be used by God to ensure their own survival. Sparing Joseph’s life essentially meant the sparing of their own lives in the future.
“I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt,” said Joseph. His brothers were fearful because Joseph now had the power and privilege to ensure justice for the wrong done to him at their hands. By identifying himself, not as a ruler with the power to punish, but as their brother, Joseph took on the vulnerable role of making space for accountability and healing and eventually, forgiveness and reconciliation. Instead of wielding the power of his privilege to exact revenge, Joseph wielded the power of love upon his family, and the human bridge of relationship was formed. Instead of adding to their guilt and shame, Joseph urged his brothers not to be angry with themselves for selling him into slavery.
While their intentions were to diminish his life, and do him harm, Joseph interpreted for his family how God used their actions for good, by sending to send him ahead of his family in order to preserve life—and not only his family’s life, but the Egyptian lives in the land in which he had gained authority. You see, there was a reality of a seven-year famine, which was two years in at the time of their reunion. For seven years, prior to the onset of the famine, Joseph had been gathering up, and storing, grain in great abundance in Egypt, to shield against the mass starvation of the population (Gen 41: 48-49).
Imagine how powerful it was for Joseph to help relieve the shame and guilt weighing on the hearts of his brothers by shifting their self-centered, human perspective of sin, outwardly, toward the divine agency of God, “God sent me before you to preserve life…God sent me before you to keep alive for you many survivors…So it was not you who sent me here, but God” (vv. 5, 7).
Joseph really was more valuable to his brothers alive than dead. What makes Joseph’s witness so powerful is that in spite of the brothers’ worst intentions, God’s divine activity, albeit hidden, was always at work, moving through their human sinfulness, and moving on Joseph’s behalf, in order to move forward His plan for human salvation. As I ponder Joseph’s statement to his brothers, “…It was not you who sent me here, but God” (v. 7), I turn again to the story of the Clotilda, the story of horror, that became, and is still becoming, hope.”2
The story of the Clotilda is merely one snapshot of the innumerable narratives of horror that have been woven into the fabric of our nation—narratives which persist toward hope. These narratives can neither be told, nor heard in truth, without naming the sins. Sin is defined as broken relationship with God and with each other. Make no mistake—the slavery in Egypt of Joseph’s time, and the 400 years of chattel slavery, on the land, which would become the United States, were sinful.
The sin of slavery, diminished the humanity of both the enslaved and the oppressors. And, the residue of that sin, manifested in the ever-present racial divisions that plague our nation, is not of God. We know this because neither slavery, nor the burden of its legacy, reflect the nature of God which is love.
Living the golden rule, do to others as you would have them to do you, demands that children of the Most High reflect the nature of God. In our gospel passage, when Jesus said, “…Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful,” (v. 36), he implied that God’s children are to reflect the nature of God. The true nature of the invisible God, has been revealed to us only through his fully-human and fully-divine son, Jesus, who lived amongst humankind. And, the nature of Jesus, is only made known to this sinful and broken world through his earthly body, the Church, bearer of holy scripture and the Gospels. Through the Church, Baptism initiates souls into the body of Christ, and sets in motion the intentional nurturing of souls to the full nature of Christ. As the body of Christ, it is the church’s responsibility, to be a consistent reflection of the nature of our God, our Father.
If we, as one, unified nation, “under God,” are to truly reflect the nature of God, we must courageously come together to tell our shared horror stories—in truth and in love—without shame and without guilt—in order to make safe space for mutual understanding and healing. Only then may we hope to weep together, show mercy toward each other, and realize that we are so much more valuable to each other as fully-alive beings—wholeness in minds, bodies and souls, than we are when our fellow human beings leave us for dead in our brokenness.
May we, like Joseph, choose mercy, when we are wronged. And, choose to be wrapped in the vulnerability of compassionate curiosity, in order to show up in this world as unobstructed reflections of the Most High, capable of building bridges that restore human relationship. And may we testify to all who are burdened by the guilt and shame of sin that by the life-giving, life-saving gospel of our Savior, Jesus Christ, persistent hope is always on the horizon. Amen.
1 Clotilda Quote Emily Gonzalez: Documentary of the Clotilda premieres tonight – YouTube
2 Clotilda Quote Emily Gonzalez: Documentary of the Clotilda premieres tonight – YouTube, accessed on February 19, 2022.
