How surprising, then, that it is Judah who, decades hence, effects
the reconciliation between Joseph and his brothers. “For [I] made [my]self responsible [for our
brother] to my father, saying ‘if I don’t bring him back to you, I will stand
guilty before my father for all time” (Genesis 44:32). How does Judah evolve from chief villain to
chief reconciler? How does the cruel
youth become a compassionate man?
He grows up. Genesis
38 interrupts the primary narrative of the Joseph saga with the story of
Judah’s adult life: two sons die, and
daughter-in-law Tamar shames him into acknowledging the impact his selfishness
has on others. He tastes life’s cruelty.
No one, not a single one of us, skates through life without
tasting loss, pain, or heartbreak.
Whether it’s a loved one’s death, our own illnesses and incapacity,
broken relationships or shattered dreams, each of us eventually learns that
life’s cup is bitter as well as sweet. We
cannot help but drink.
When people who are suffering ask me “why did this happen to
me?” the only honest answer I can give is “I don’t know.” We cannot know the cause of suffering except that
it is cannot be divine retribution. Human
beings are not God’s children sent to bed without supper when we misbehave. We do not suffer because we’ve “been
bad.” We suffer because we are living
beings.
Once the shock and insult of suffering have worn off, we can
begin to ask the richer questions: what
can I learn from this? How have I
grown? What meaning can I make from
this? How can I return to the world
transformed and improved?
While we cannot know the cause of suffering, we can control
the effect. We can make meaning of it. We can emerge from our pain, like Judah, more
fully human than before.
No comments:
Post a Comment