Our readings from the Lectionary have me in a bit of a spiritual swivel.
In Genesis, we continue the saga of Joseph, far now from his amazing technicolor-dream-coat days, safely perched in a position of power but coming to terms with painful parts of his past and the betrayal of his brothers. In an understandable payback maneuver, he has tested those eleven brothers with the demand of two round trips -- Egypt to Canaan and back -- and, in the final test we read today, he can no longer contain himself. In sobbings so loud that they reach Pharaoh's palace, Joseph reveals his identity -- not in an outburst of furious accusations but in the deepest tones of tenderness. "Come closer to me..." And, in an insight that challenges us as we look at our own history, Joseph extends forgiveness wrapped in the revelation that God had worked through this betrayal to accomplish a greater good -- the saving of God's people.
This look back, as Joseph's example reminds us -- this healing of our memory -- is one of the tasks of the adult spiritual journey. Claiming goodness, letting go of bitterness, expressing gratitude for the providential care that God has shown in our own round trips through joy and sorrow -- can we look back and thank God?
As difficult as that task might be at times, our Gospel passage sets out lessons that might be even more challenging. How about that look ahead? Jesus commissions the twelve apostles with 'nothing' but their mission statement: to proclaim the Good News of the Kingdom at hand through the authority of their healing. No money, no supplies, no walking stick, no extra set of clothes or shoes, no emergency contact information, no advanced reservations at a waiting inn. With membership in a family like mine, steeped in the motto engraved in marble in the foyer of Prudential's headquarters in Newark: "The future belongs to those who prepare for it," and fortified by a slogan from military days: "Proper planning prevents poor performance," this step out in the trust required and accepted by the apostles leaves me agape. Do I have trust that God is enough? Can I surrender my own to-do lists to God's providential care for me? What about my fears? There is plenty of room for them in my backpack.
The takeaway for me today: God has sent us the Christ, who is both the destination in our beautifully unfolding future and our companion as we lay down track creating our own history. My prayer: that I might place my trust not in the future itself, but in a God who has blessed me and protected me in times of trouble, who is with me in the sacrament of the present moment, who is a God who keeps promises. This is the God I invite in. May I go out to serve Him well. Amen.