Tenth Sunday after Trinity 2023

Old Testament reading: Genesis 37.1-4, 12-28

Jacob settled in the land where his father had lived as an alien, the land of Canaan. (37.1)

This account begins by noting the contrast between Jacob and his father Isaac—and, indeed, his grandfather, Abraham. Whereas Abraham and Isaac lived a life of pilgrimage, moving from place to place, Jacob has stopped moving. He has sat down, has settled. Perhaps he is weighed down by grief at the death of his father, Isaac. Perhaps he feels some need to compete with his bother Esau, whose descendants have established a network of cities while Jacob was living in exile. Whatever his motive or motives, even if his sons must travel significant distances with the flocks, Jacob is staying put, thank you. As far as Jacob is concerned, his days of living a provisional life are behind him. But life rarely, if ever, works out as we expect it to.

This is the story of the family of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a helper to the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives; and Joseph brought a bad report of them to their father. (37.2)

Joseph is a young man, second youngest of Jacob’s twelve sons. When we meet him, he is an apprentice shepherd, learning the skills of tending to the flock from his older brothers. And he brings a bad report concerning them to their father. We don’t know what the basis of the bad report was, but perhaps it was simply that they refused to train him. Perhaps they were unwilling to see themselves replaced by this younger person; after all, they knew what they were doing, and he didn’t; their experience meant that they did the job well, whereas it would take twice as long to train the young ’un, and even then, he wouldn’t do it as well as they did. Perhaps they had forgotten that once upon a time, someone older and more experienced had taken the time and effort to teach them.

In any case, they cannot even speak civilly with their younger brother. The lectionary reading skips over some of Joseph’s own immaturity in expressing his sense of sacred purpose; but who would he even have processed that with? When nurturing the young adult becomes too challenging, his father falls back on favouritism, which is not the same thing at all. Meanwhile, his brothers abandon any pretence of training him, and drive the flock north without their young apprentice. Jacob sends Joseph after them.

He came to Shechem, and a man found him wandering in the fields; the man asked him, ‘What are you seeking?’ ‘I am seeking my brothers,’ he said; ‘tell me, please, where they are pasturing the flock.’ (37.14c-16)

Joseph heads off after his brothers, but when we meet him again, he has gone completely astray. In contrast to the purposeful pilgrimage of previous generations, he is wandering around without direction. Eventually, somebody finds him and asks, what is it that you are seeking? What is it that you earnestly desire? What is the thing you are entreating God for in prayer? And Joseph responds, I am seeking my brothers. I am directionless and alone in the world, and I am seeking affinity, a tribe, a community I can be part of. I am seeking belonging. Tell me, please, where I can find my people, who will help me grow into the human being—or human becoming—I am created to become.

This is the cry of a generation of seventeen-year-olds living alongside us today. A cry that is arguably more acute than it has been for many generations.

And when we see them, a distance off, we have a choice. To throw them into a pit or make them someone else’s problem; or to create space for them to discover who they are, with all the inevitable missteps along the way.

Either way, God will bring about his purposes through them. The question is, are we too settled in our ways to welcome it?