Trinity Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

Sermons 

Title: "Logical Consequences?"

Text: Genesis 45:1-15

all the rage in parenting-training circles

was teaching a form of discipline called "logical consequences."

The theory behind this was – and is –

that the best way for children

to learn not to do stupid things,

is to let them do the stupid thing

and then have to live with the logical consequences.

(Probably works for adults, too, if you think about it.)

Now obviously, that wouldn’t work for everything.

You couldn’t teach your child not to run out into the street

by letting her do so, and get hit by a car,

because that would be the logical consequence.

You can’t just say,

"Okay, don’t wash your hands after playing in the dirt;

we’ll just let you get typhoid and see how you like it."

But for a lot of things, it seems to make sense.

You drew on the walls with a permanent marker?

Okay, then, you’re also going to help us paint over it,

and the cost of the paint is coming from your allowance.

You refused to get out of bed and get dressed for school?

Guess you’re going to have to go to school

in your SpongeBob pajamas today.

My former brother-in-law, once, as a teenager,

decided one day that he had better things to do with his time

than edging the lawn.

He came up with what seemed to him a brilliant idea

for doing it quickly and getting it over with:

He very carefully poured a line of gasoline

all along the edge between the grass and the sidewalk or the curb,

and then lit a match.

Fortunately, he wasn’t burned …

but his "logical consequences" were that he spent days

scrubbing char-marks off the concrete.

That "clever idea" didn’t save him any time at all.

But, he’s never tried anything like that again!

And he’s about 50 now!

Here’s my very favorite "logical consequences" story:

This is a story on my dad,

who, at the time, was teaching history and social studies

at New Braunfels High School,

home of the "Fighting Unicorns" …

(and he may not actually have been "my dad" yet …)

One day, when he came out of the building after school

and went to his car to drive home,

he found that someone had left a dead cat in the car.

Dad drove home, took the cat out, put it in a box …

And when he returned to school the next day, he said nothing about it.

He knew very well that

whatever teenagers had put that dead cat in his car

would not be able to keep quiet about it amongst their friends.

So he just listened around all day, very closely,

and by the end of the day,

he knew exactly who the culprits were.

And so he called them to his classroom,

and confronted them:

You know what you did, and I know what you did,

and we’re not going to argue about that.

But now you have a choice to make:

We can either go let the principal in on this,

since by now, half the student body knows,

and he can decide whether he’s going to call your parents …

The boys – and they were indeed boys – didn’t much like that option …

Or, says dad,

you can give that cat a decent burial.

Now which will it be?

They thought a decent burial sounded fair.

Little did they know what my dad meant by a "decent burial":

He made them spend two or three afternoons

digging a hole six feet deep for the grave.

Then, they had to invite their friends to the "funeral,"

and he made them parade that cat-in-a-box

down the street in an appropriate procession,

and say some final words over the cat,

before they were allowed to lay it in the grave,

and fill the dirt back in.

Guess who never had students mess with him again?

Of course, it’s possible that the only lesson they learned was,

"don’t mess with Mr. Adkins" …

but even that is progress of a sort.

At any rate, in today’s Old Testament lesson,

we come to the end of the Jacob-and-Joseph story,

and we find that Joseph’s brothers

are suffering some consequences from their actions of years before.

I know, we only read about it last week,

but trust me, it was years ago!

Remember that they were jealous of Joseph

because papa Jacob liked him best,

so when Joseph was 17, they sold him into slavery.

Joseph ends up in Egypt;

he ends up in prison through no fault of his own;

and then he gets sprung when Pharaoh learns

that Joseph is skilled at interpreting dreams.

Joseph becomes one of the Pharaoh’s most trusted advisors,

helping manage seven years of plentiful harvests

in order to prepare for the seven years of drought

that he knows is coming

(because Pharoah dreamed about it, remember?)

Anyway, famine has also hit Joseph’s home region,

only they weren’t ready for it,

either because they didn’t dream about it

or didn’t have Joseph there to interpret the dream.

So Jacob sends ten of Joseph’s brothers to Egypt to buy grain …

he keeps Benjamin, the youngest, at home,

since Benjamin has had to replace Joseph as the favorite.

(Remember that Benjamin and Joseph

are the only two who were Rachel’s children.)

The brothers show up and approach the "governor of the land,"

which turns out to be Joseph, only they don’t recognize him.

He, however, recognizes them immediately,

pretends to believe that they are spies,

and has them thrown into prison for three days.

He then tells them that they must go home,

fetch their younger brother, and return,

or he won’t help them.

So they trek home, and back with Benjamin,

and Joseph makes a big fuss over them,

and has his stewards fill all their bags with grain,

and then they all sit down to a feast.

Except, Joseph has also told the stewards

to hide a silver cup inside the grain-bag

of the "youngest brother," that is, Benjamin.

Then, after the brothers have started for home,

Joseph and his entourage race after them and accuse them of theft.

When the cup is found in Benjamin’s sack,

Joseph agrees that the other brothers can return home,

but Benjamin must return to Egypt with him.

And now, finally, we have the chance to see that the brothers are changed men.

Judah pleads – remember Judah? he was the one whose idea it was to sell Joseph –

Judah offers to remain behind in Benjamin’s place,

because, as he explains,

if Benjamin does not return home,

their father will surely die of grief.

And at this point,

Joseph realizes as well, that they have changed.

And he can no longer keep up the pretense.

He breaks down weeping,

and tells them who he is,

and begs for news of his father.

At first they are disconcerted, as you might expect,

but they soon realize that Joseph is sincere

when he invites the whole family to come,

to settle closer to him, where he can provide for them.

And he concludes with,

"Hurry and bring my father down here."

Then they all have a group hug and a big cry,

and, as we noted last week,

they finally get around to "happily ever after."

Think for a moment, now:

If you sold your brother into slavery,

what would the "logical consequences" of that action be?
In Joseph’s day, one would be,

that you would have to do all of his work

in addition to your own.

Another might be,

that if he had one or more wives and children

you would have to provide for them as if they were your own.

In a spirit of vengeance,

someone might sell you into slavery,

although that’s really more a form of vengeance,

an-eye-for-an-eye kind of thinking,

than it is a logical consequence.

Is it a "logical" consequence that Joseph should prosper,

and his brothers end up suffering from famine,

or is that just chance;

or a devious deity at work?

We see Joseph struggling with how to treat his brothers

when they come before him,

having the advantage of recognizing them

when they don’t recognize him.

He toys with them,

makes them jump through figurative hoops,

plays a trick on them – some things never change –

before, finally, his better side takes over.

He is simply unable to stay angry with them forever.

Perhaps, "logically," they should suffer more, and longer,

for what they did to him.

But he can’t bring himself to be the one

to administer the consequences.

Instead, Joseph ends by being gracious,

by forgiving his brothers,

by inviting them to be family once again,

and sharing his wealth and prestige with them.

Did they deserve it?

Probably not.

Does that matter?

Apparently not.

It seems to me that a part of the tension of being human

is balancing the desire for justice with the desire for mercy.

Often, where we come down is that

we want mercy for ourselves,

and justice for everyone else … yes?

Even if we can persuade ourselves

not to seek vengeance when we have been cheated, or hurt …

still, we can’t help but hope that somehow,

the wrongdoer will suffer "logical consequences"

of their wrongdoing.

Maybe we will not try to "get even" ourselves,

but don’t we hope that the universe is set up

so that people who misbehave will eventually pay for it?

Imagine how Joseph’s brothers felt

in that first instant after they learned

that this helpful Egyptian really was their own brother.

Can’t you just see them turning pale?

Wondering whether they should run for their lives?

After all these years, the past has finally caught up with them.

And the past toys with them for an instant …

and then lets them go.

Period. End of sentence.

Their youthful treachery and jealousy

are repaid with generosity and forgiveness.

And if Joseph –who himself is not exactly perfect –

if Joseph can be merciful to his brothers …

do we not know

how much more God is merciful to us?

I don’t mean to say that there are not, or should not be,

consequences for misbehaving.

There are, and we learn from them;

especially, I think, the logical ones.

But perhaps the most important consequence,

any time we do wrong,

is that we become separated from God.

Not because God gets frustrated

and shoves us away,

but because we made a deliberate choice

to step away from what we know is God’s will.

And yet God is merciful.

God does not demand

that we spend three days in prison,

or sacrifice something meaningful,

and God does not play tricks on us

in order to show who’s really in charge.

(Unlike Joseph, in that case!)

God invites us to be a different person

from the person we were when we made the wrong choice,

and to return and be welcomed.

In Joseph’s story,

the last word, after all the shenanigans

and anger and jealousy and famine and game-playing …

the last word is mercy.

The last word is "happily ever after."

God would like for those to be the last word for us as well.

Not necessarily only at the instant of our death,

though certainly then …

God offers us the last word of mercy.

God offers us the last word or "happily ever after."

Are we willing to swallow our pride,

and accept the illogical consequences of life with God?

Will we let God have the last word?

Amen.