[Sermon] Wearing Our Coats Lightly

Pastor Hector Garfias-Toledo

September 21, 2025 + Tales from the Holy Imagination, Week 3

The story of Joseph and his brothers is as messy as any family drama—jealousy, betrayal, grief, and deception. His coat, torn and stained, becomes a symbol of all that is fractured in human relationships. Yet even here, God is not absent. Grace weaves through betrayal and heartbreak, transforming a garment of division into a tapestry of reconciliation. This is good news for every place in our lives that feels torn or stained.

Sermon Transcript

From YouTube's automatic captions, lightly edited by AI for readability.

Grace to you and peace from our Father, Mother, Creator, and the Lord Jesus Christ, our Savior—our Lord who is always with us. And we say: Amen. Amen.

I would like to invite you, before we share a few things here, to look at your bulletin. You will see that under the reading—today’s reading—there is a space, and with very tiny letters there are some questions there. I invite you to read them, and then, if you could, turn around and especially find someone you do not know. Or, if you see that someone cannot move around, go to that person and spend just a few minutes on one of the questions you see there.

Let me see… The questions are: Where do you see yourself in this story? What part of the story brings you discomfort or raises a question for you? How does this story challenge or affirm your understanding of God? Or, what picture, doodle, or symbol could you draw to represent the main feeling or message you are taking away from the story today?

So, let’s take a few minutes. Again, look around, read the questions, discuss with others, or spend some time doodling or drawing. Let’s do it now. You have about three to four minutes—so run.

[Music while people chat]

For those of you participating online, I hope that you are doodling, or you are typing something in the chat section.

It seems like you are coming to the end of your conversation. It’s getting quieter now.

Is there any bold voice that wants to try to answer one of these questions aloud? Yell at me so I can hear you—I won’t be offended if you yell at me.

Aaron: I think that unfortunately, sometimes I identify with one of the brothers, and I’m jealous about what other people have. I don’t focus on maybe the gifts that I was getting as well.

Hector: So—jealous Aaron, thank you. And that’s true, right? Sometimes we identify with the brothers and their attitude, their jealousy.

One more back there.

Lyn: Surprised there was fighting in the Bible.

Hector: Fighting in the Bible.

Sue: I’d be the one making the coat for Joseph.

Hector: You would be the one making the coat for Joseph. You want to say more?

Sue: I’d be the one to make it.

Hector: You would be the one to make it. Together. I know you can do that because I have seen you.

Jeff: Joseph had the power to do revenge, and he chose something quite different.

Hector: He could have sought revenge, but he did something quite different.

Vianne: God’s plans sometimes take years.

Hector: God’s plans sometimes take years. Wow.

Trudy: God can take even our most grievous sins and use them for good.

Hector: God can take us just as we are, with all our mess, and use us.

Right. Do you notice I kind of held my word there—but that’s right. Thank you, everyone. I invite you to continue to really reflect on these questions and these stories. Because Rachel and I were just talking here, and I said: This reflects so much of our lives as human beings.

And I think these are the types—as some of you said—dramas. I mean, there’s a difference between a soap opera and a drama, and this is a drama. I don’t know why they haven’t made a good drama—and a lot of money—from these stories in the Bible, because these are dramas in scripture.

And you know, I was thinking about how many times we hear, we use, we think, it crosses our minds and our hearts—the phrase “God has a plan,” or “God is in control.” And sometimes I think: How do those two phrases apply to the life of Joseph, the brothers, Jacob, and our lives?

In chapter 37 we have a wonderful, wonderful example of family systems. For those of you who are counselors, psychiatrists, psychologists, or in any of those professions, you know what family systems are. Family system theory says that we are emotionally interdependent as a unit in the family, and that none of us lives in isolation or separate from the emotions that run through the family.

And I tell you, this family listed here in this story—they had issues. Serious issues. Just to say: if you remember Jacob’s story, he was Mom’s favorite. Remember Rebecca helping him to get the blessing of his father? What did they do? They killed a goat. They used the skin of the goat to cheat Israel. And then they put Esau’s garment on Jacob to again cheat their father.

So this tells us what is going on in this family.

And lastly, maybe we can ask the question: Doesn’t this happen in the best families? Who here has the best family? Well, something of this may be going on there too. But maybe the real question is: Can we really forget that easily, as sometimes this story portrays it, when all of this is going on?

Joseph’s story, I believe, is interpreted as a directive to forgive, following Joseph’s example. But when we do this—when we look at this story—we actually find that his example is not only that of forgiving. We have this tattletale, narcissistic young man telling his brothers that he is the favorite, and that they are basically going to worship him. So maybe the question for us is: can we really forgive that easily? Is it even possible to fully forgive and forget the pain inflicted by others, especially by siblings and loved ones? No.

This story is full of things that could keep us here talking the rest of the day. Even Martin Luther spends—I don’t know how many paragraphs—trying to explain the thing about the coat in his commentary on this chapter in the book of Genesis. The word that is used as “coat” in Hebrew has several meanings, and one of them is not necessarily “a colorful coat,” but a long-sleeved robe.

And this robe was used as a sign of aristocracy. That means whoever wore it was not going to labor or do the hard work. So now you understand why the brothers were not very happy with this coat—and with Joseph. They felt jealous, as Aaron pointed out. In fact, if you read the whole story of chapter 37 in the entire context of the book of Genesis, you will see that Joseph was, again, a tattletale, Daddy’s favorite, and a dreamer whose dreams were very pretentious.

So the question again is: is this a story about how good or how bad Joseph is? Or how bad his brothers are? Or is it about the moral obligation we have to forgive anyone for anything? What is this story about?

Perhaps it is more the portrayal of our lives as part of a society that pushes us to seek control, power, and relevance—and to seriously reflect on how our lives and stories are often filled and tangled with threads of jealousy, betrayal, and brokenness. In other words, we are the actors in a perfect drama.

Maybe Joseph’s coat is not a symbol of favor, but a metaphor for how God can take the frayed, knotted, and broken pieces of our lives and weave them into a new, beautiful tapestry of healing and reconciliation. As Trudy just said earlier, this is a message of grace, forgiveness, and redemption.

If you notice in the story, it is not God who causes our pain—or the pain of these characters in the story—but God works within it to bring about a greater good. Betrayal leads to an unexpected redemption and reconciliation.

Forgiveness, then, is not just this single moment where we are able to switch off our jealousy or anger. And if you have been able to do that—help us, for those who cannot—because it is not possible. Forgiveness is more. Forgiveness is difficult. It is costly. It is a costly process of transformation for both those who were wronged and those who are the wrongdoers. And we see that in the story of Joseph today.

God is at work in the world—even in the midst of human failings and brokenness—and God is guiding events to a purposeful ending. In other words, God, as I said last Sunday, does everything to take us back to God’s self. God will do everything to make the initial intent of creation—to live in right relationship—come to be. God is at work in the world, even in the midst of human failings and brokenness, guiding all events to this purposeful end.

And in Joseph, we see a flawed, arrogant young man who is the raw material God works with. And this righteousness is given by God’s grace, who transforms us.

It’s not an individual journey, as I said, but it’s about reconciliation of a fractured family—emphasizing the communal nature of healing and forgiveness.

Yesterday we had the second session of the new members’ class, and we spent a few minutes reflecting on one of the paragraphs in the liturgy we used. I have shared it with you before, but I think it’s important to remind ourselves. One of the parts of the liturgy says that we are going to fail each other as members of this congregation. But what we are committing to each other is that we will practice forgiveness—that we will do everything in our hands to practice forgiveness, to bring healing and reconciliation, which is the mark of who we are and whose we are as children of God.

Before we run away hating each other, despising each other, we take the time—intentionally—to let this transforming love and grace of God look for the ways in which the Lord Jesus Christ is present, even in those who wronged us. That’s why I said it’s not an individual journey. It is about reconciliation, and it is about the communal nature of healing and forgiveness.

We all carry our coats of many colors, long sleeves of threads and joy and sorrow, jealousy and love, betrayal and hope. This coat that started as a symbol of division and favoritism is replaced by this new tapestry—a story of reconciliation, provision, and salvation.

A few Sundays ago, as you can see, I wore these stalls that are woven by the hands of the native people in the southeast part of Mexico. I love them, because they remind me of exactly this: that our lives, our dreams, our joys, our sorrows—everything—is interwoven together, and we become the beautiful tapestry.

But at the same time, even in the beautiful things we see, there are things that do not match. One of our young worshippers was telling me the other day that, as I’m sitting here with my stole, it looks like everything is perfectly aligned, perfectly designed, perfectly coordinated—but there was something bothering her in my stole. I said, “What was that?” She said, “Well, there is a mismatch in your stole.” I said, “Well, I have been wearing this for 30 years, and I have never seen that!” And rightly, if you can see, these are alternating—one side, the other—but there are two that are exactly in the same direction here.

For those of you who think that our young worshippers are not paying attention—well, I’m surprised nobody else had noticed it!

But what I want to say with this is: as this stole, as many of our coats, as many of our lives are interwoven together, we are reminded that the sorrows, the joys, the frailty of our lives are used by God to bring God’s grace. God breaks into a broken, jealous, and violent world—a world of tattletale and betraying brothers—to save it from within.

The family in this story is restored, and Egypt and the surrounding world is saved from famine. Joseph’s story is a promise. The same God who wove a tapestry of salvation from the threads of a dysfunctional family is the God who moved the salvation of the world from the threads of a cross and the empty tomb. And that is gospel—that is good news.

So the story ends, and continues, and we wear our coats gently. Jacob placed the coat on the shoulder of his son Joseph, and nobody hated anybody anymore.

Amen.