9/20/2026 - “Blessed Anyway” - Rev. Anthony Spearhart

So good morning again, beloved.

So today we begin something new.

Over the past few months, we've talked a lot about stories, the stories we inherit, the stories we tell, and the stories that shape us, and the story that God is still writing among us.

So today we begin following something called the narrative lectionary.

A lectionary is simply a way of organizing the scriptures that we hear together and worship.

The narrative lectionary moves through a four-year cycle, and each year gives particular attention to one of the four gospels.

In the fall, we spend time in the great stories of the Hebrew Scriptures.

Then as the year unfolds, we move more deeply into the story of Jesus through that year's gospel and eventually carrying us towards Easter, Pentecost, and the early church.

I think it's it's quite unique as we go from the beginning of Scripture through Scripture.

Now every year we don't hit every single story.

We touch on different stories each of those four years.

And throughout those four years, we'll eventually touch on almost all stories as they arrive in Scripture.

So week by week, we're not just dropping into random passages.

We're following a story.

And along the way, we'll often hear a shorter gospel reading paired with the main story.

Something from Jesus that helps us hear an echo, a connection, or maybe even a tension between those stories.

And I love this because scripture isn't simply a collection of verses that we pull out whenever we need something inspirational.

It is a story.

Actually, in fact, a whole library of stories.

Stories of people trying to understand God themselves and what faithfulness looks like when life gets complicated.

There are beautiful chapters and there are painful chapters.

There are chapters that make sense to us right away and others that leave us scratching our heads.

Which, if we're honest, sounds a whole lot like life.

Because our lives are stories too.

And one of the things I hope this journey through the narrative Leshni helps us do is not simply ask, what happened way back then?

But also, where do I see myself here in this story?

Where does this story bump up against my own story?

Where does it challenge something I thought I knew about God, or faith, or blessing?

And today the story places us with Joseph.

Joseph's story is a pretty good place to begin because his life did not move in a straight line at all.

There are moments of promise and moments of betrayal, moments when everything seems to be opening up for him, and moments when everything seems to fall apart.

And Joseph's story reminds us quickly that you cannot understand a whole life by looking at just one chapter.

Sometimes the chapter we are in feels like everything, but it's not necessarily the whole story.

By the time we get to Genesis 39, Joseph's story is already complicated.

Joseph is one of Jacob's sons, and not just any son.

He's the favorite, just like I am.

My grandma said so.

And Jacob does not exactly keep that a secret.

Joseph gets the special robe.

Joseph has dreams that seem to suggest that one day his family will bow down before him.

And Joseph, apparently not yet having learned that every thought does not need to be shared out loud, tells his brothers all about this.

Which, for the record, is rarely the best way to improve sibling relationships.

His brothers are absolutely not amused.

Jealousy grows, resentment grows, and eventually they decide that they've had enough.

They strip Joseph of the robe that has become a symbol of their father's favoritism, throw him into a pit, and then sell him.

Joseph is carried away from everything he knows and taken into Egypt.

So when today's story begins, Joseph is already in a chapter he never would have chosen.

He has lost his home, his family, and his freedom.

And the future he assumed was in front of him.

And now he is sold to Potiphar, an officer of Pharaoh.

And then the storyteller gives us a line that will matter through this whole chapter.

Notice what the story does not say here.

It does not say Joseph understood who any, why any of this was happening.

It does not say everything suddenly made sense.

It just says God was with him.

And somehow in this place, Joseph never asked to be, he begins to flourish.

Potiphar sees something in him.

Joseph is cable, capable, he's trustworthy, and before long, Potiphar puts him in charge of the whole household.

Now, if this were the kind of faith story we sometimes wish we had, this would be a very convenient place to stop.

Joseph suffered, he stayed faithful, God was with him, things got better.

End of sermon.

Which would be convenient for the preacher, but unfortunately Genesis keeps going here.

Because Potiphar's wife begins to pursue Joseph.

Again and again she pressures him to sleep with her, and Joseph refuses.

He refuses because Potiphar has trusted him.

He refuses because he knows it would be wrong.

And one day she grabs his garment, Joseph runs, and the garment stays behind.

Now, please stay with me in the story as we continue on, because we could get a little far deep into the way people and gender is played in the story.

And let's just not go there today.

Because that is well beyond the point of the story.

So suddenly the thing he left behind while trying to do the right thing becomes the very thing used against him.

She tells a different story.

She accuses Joseph of attacking her.

And Joseph, an enslaved foreigner with very little power in the house, has almost no way to defend himself.

So Potiphar has him thrown into prison.

And I think we have to sit with that for a moment.

Because Joseph does the right thing, and things get worse.

He acts with integrity and still loses.

He remains faithful, but yet ends up in prison.

That does not fit very neatly into the way we sometimes talk about blessing.

Because somewhere along the way, a lot of us were handed a version of faith that sounds almost like a formula.

Be good, pray, trust God, do the right thing, and things will work out.

But Joseph's story says, not always.

Sometimes you can do the right thing and still be misunderstood.

Sometimes you can tell the truth and still pay for it.

Sometimes you can be faithful and still end up in a place you never wanted to be.

But then the storyteller says it again.

There it is.

Again, in Potiver's house, the Lord was with Joseph.

In prison, the Lord was with Joseph.

And suddenly blessing starts to look different.

Because if God is with Joseph in both places, then blessing cannot simply mean that life is going well.

It cannot simply mean we go, we got the outcome we wanted.

And it cannot simply mean we got out of the hard thing.

Sometimes blessing is much quieter than that.

Sometimes blessing is simply this.

God is still here.

And then we hear these words from Jesus and Matthew blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely.

And after hearing Joseph's story, those words land differently.

Joseph knows what it is to be falsely accused.

Joseph knows what it is to do the right thing and still suffer for it.

But there is something else here as well, because we know more of the story than the people standing around Jesus that day knew.

We know where Jesus' story is going.

Jesus too will know what it is to be misunderstood.

Jesus too will know what it is to have accusations made against him.

Jesus too will know rejection.

Jesus too will know what it is to remain faithful to the way of love and still suffer for it.

So when Jesus says, Blessed are you, he is not speaking from some safe distance.

He will live these words.

He is not saying that suffering is good.

He is saying that none of those things get to decide the whole story.

Rejection does not get the final word.

False accusation and even death did not get the final word.

And suddenly Joseph's story, Jesus' story, and our own stories begin to speak to one another.

The difficult chapters may be real, but it is not the whole story.

And that is where this stops being only Joseph's story.

Because sooner or later most of us know what it is to find ourselves in a chapter we would have never chosen for ourselves.

Maybe it's grief.

Maybe it's uncertainty.

Maybe it's our bodies changing and learning how to live with that.

Maybe it's a relationship does not look the way it once did.

Maybe the future you had pictured looks completely different now.

And maybe you did everything you knew how to do.

You prayed, you showed up, you tried to be kind, you did your best.

And still the story did not unfold the way that you hoped.

And when we are living in those chapters, it is very easy to let that chapter become the whole book.

The grief becomes everything, the diagnosis becomes everything, the rejection, the mistake, the prison becomes everything.

But Joseph's story reminds us that something can be true without being the whole truth of who we are.

The prison is true, is real, yes.

The hurt is real, yes, the uncertainty is real.

But faith does not ask us to pretend otherwise.

And I think that matters because sometimes faith has been used to rush people past that pain.

Things like everything happens for a reason or God has a plan.

It will all work out.

Sometimes those words are said with love.

But when you're sitting in the middle of a prison, they can feel pretty empty.

Joseph does not know yet how his story will turn out.

And that may be one of the most important things about where Genesis 39 ends.

Because Joseph is still in prison.

There's no escape yet.

No reunion, no palace, no explanation.

The chapter ends with Joseph still there.

Now we know there are more pages, but Joseph did not.

We can turn the page.

Joseph could not.

Isn't that where so much of life happens?

Somewhere before the pages turn.

Somewhere in the middle.

Somewhere without knowing what comes next.

And faith is not pretending we know what the next chapter will bring.

Faith is trusting that God is still present before we know what the next chapter will bring.

The Lord was with Joseph.

Not only after things got better, not only after the story made sense, but right there, in the middle of that uncertainty, the Lord was with Joseph.

And maybe that is what it means to be blessed anyway.

Not that the hard thing suddenly becomes good, not that the pain disappears, not that we suddenly know how it all turns out, but that somewhere in the middle of the chapter we discover God is still here.

And beloved, we are not the first people to discover that.

We have heard Joseph's story.

We have heard Jesus' story.

We know the prison was not the end.

We know the rejection was not the end.

We know the false accusation was not the end.

Even the cross, praise God, was not the end.

And maybe that is why we keep telling these stories.

Not just so we remember what happened to Joseph, not just so we remember what happened to Jesus, but so that we can find ourselves in our own difficult chapter, we can borrow some courage from the stories that came before us.

So that when we cannot see what comes next, we can remember that God has been here before.

So that when faithfulness costs us something, we can remember that blessing has never depended on ease.

Let me say that again.

Blessing has never depended on ease.

So that when the world tells us to be quieter, safer, smaller, a little less generous with our love, we can remember who we are.

Blessed anyway.

Say it with me.

Say, I'm blessed anyway.

Say, we are blessed anyway.

Now look at someone near you and tell them, you are blessed anyway.

Sometimes we need to hear it for ourselves.

Sometimes we need to say it together.

And sometimes we need someone else to remind us that we are blessed anyway.

And may that blessing give us the courage to be bold enough to love when love is costly, to be bold enough to seek justice when justice is inconvenient, bold enough to widen the welcome, bold enough to speak truth, bold enough to show mercy, and bold enough to imagine a world that looks more like the kingdom of God, and then help bring that world into being right here, right now, together.

Amen and amen.

Beloved, go from this place with your eyes open to grace, your hands ready for service, and your hearts open to one another.

May you notice the holy and unexpected places, offer hope when it is needed, and trust that you do not walk this week alone.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may be abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

So go in peace, go in courage, go in hope, go in love, and keep living the story.

Amen.