Family Matters

…and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. ²¹When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” ²²And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” ²³And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? ²⁴If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. ²⁵And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. ²⁶And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come. ²⁷But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered. ²⁸“Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; ²⁹but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— ³⁰for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.” ³¹Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. ³²A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” ³³And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” ³⁴And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! ³⁵Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister 

and mother.”

Mark 3:20-35

Family matters, matters of our families, are always an interesting thing, and interesting creature in our lives, as we all know. I bet, that if all of us gathered today were asked, “Tell us about your family,” we would have every answer in the book. Some of us have our families close by, while others have families who are spread out across the world. Some of us have created families of our own through marriage and the beautiful birth of children, while others live on their own and have created their own kind of family through friendships. Some of us are products of strong, healthy, nurturing families of origin, families who gather for holidays and birthdays, families who celebrate and lift each other up every chance we get. Others of us are products of unhealthy, abusive, broken families of origin, families who don’t talk and gather and share, families who harbor guilt and hard feelings. I was reminded of the differences within each family one time when I was talking to one of my best friends, honestly complaining about something crazy someone in my family had done. My friend comes from a broken family where divorce, non-communication, and divorce have affected them so greatly. She rightly put in me in my place as she said, "Rachel, your family might be crazy at times, but at least they're together." I'll never forget it--her reminder that families are an interesting thing, and interesting creature, sometimes lovely, other times ugly, sometimes broken, other times whole.

Mark, in his gospel today, paints a fascinating picture of the concept of family, prompting us to wonder and ask about the nature of Christ, encouraging us to ask real, deep questions about who are families are, what family means in our lives, and what family means in our lives as folks who call ourselves followers of Christ. Mark starts his gospel off with a bang—no flowery words or long, descriptive images; he doesn’t waste any time telling us about Jesus and the beginning of his ministry. As soon as he is baptized and tempted in the wilderness to begin his ministry, Jesus acts quickly to call the first disciples, knowing that he has too much to do on his own. In the very first chapter, Jesus heals a man with an unclean spirit , cleanses a leper, begins teaching. We read from the beginning that what he is doing is scaring the people in power, causing others around to stop seeking them out for help and turning to Christ instead, threatening the powers that be. Jesus heals on the Sabbath, overturning laws that have been existence for a while, threatening the foundation of the long-established religious authorities. In the story immediately preceding our reading today, Jesus commissions the disciples he has already called, getting them ready to leave the families that they know to go out and do some dangerous, risky, new, and unexpected work in the world.

As our story for today begins, everyone has seen what Jesus has been doing—calling, teaching, challenging, healing, questioning, commissioning, and the nervousness about him is beginning to grow. “He has gone out of his mind,” they say, challenging the status quo, working and healing when it is unlawful to do so. His family, his family of origin, the ones he has spent most of his life with, start hearing these rumors, begin realizing that he is challenging the governmental and religious authorities, and they naturally become nervous and frightened. They try to restrain him, to hold him back.

As many times as I have read this story, I have to confess that I have never noticed this little but crucial detail. It jumped out at me this time as I read and reread this passage—his family meets him outside and physically tries to restrain him. On the surface, it seems that they are restraining him from the gathering crowds, trying to keep him safe from the immediate threat. And I think they are doing that—but they are trying to hold him back from so much more. I immediately thought of the story Luke tells us of the day Jesus is presented in the temple for purification as a child. An old man named Simeon has been sitting on the steps for years, waiting for this day, waiting for the Messiah to be presented. As so, as he walks up with his parents, Simeon takes Jesus in his arms because he knows the Messiah is finally here. He knows that he can now go in peace and he blesses Jesus’ family, but there is more. He knows that, since the truth of the Messiah has been revealed to him, he also has to reveal it to others: “This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed,” and then he looks in Mary’s eyes and sadly continues, “and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Mary, the mother who has loved her son so deeply, has known from the beginning that her child has been born to reveal God, to be God incarnate for all of us—and she has known from the beginning that that revelation will also come with a sword that will tear her heart apart and deeply pierce her soul. She has known from the beginning that her son, such an integral part of her family, is destined to die so he can save so many others. So, who can blame Mary and the rest of her family for trying to shield Jesus here? Who can blame them for wanting him to stay inside where it is safe for a while? Who can blame Jesus’ family for wanting to hold him back from the inevitable pain and suffering heading his way? Who can blame them for wanting to hold that sword off as long as possible?

I think this story also tells us so much about the nature of Christ, about the care and love that he has for his family of origin. After his family tries to restrain him outside of the home, Jesus goes inside to preach and teach. Some time later as he is inside the home, Jesus is reminded by the crowds that his mother and brothers are still outside waiting for him, wanting to see him, asking for him. Jesus responds, “Who are my mother and my brothers? Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” At first glance, it seems that Christ has rejected his family, and this rejection seems pretty harsh, hard, unnecessary. This rejection seems to be pretty contrary to what I, to what we, believe to be the kind, loving, peaceful nature of Christ.

Make no mistake—this rejection is hard and it is harsh. But it is a necessary one, I think. Jesus knows his family has heard about what must happen to him in the future, and they have tried to restrain him from his call, not wanting to see him hurt, not wanting him to lose his life. Perhaps he thinks this is the only way for them to truly see it, for them to wrap their minds around the fact that they are going to lose him. I can’t imagine how hard this rejection must feel for them, but perhaps Jesus thinks that this is the only way they will truly get it, the only way they will truly understand that his call, that his purpose will come with a high price and lots of pain. I think it’s fascinating that this story comes right after Jesus calls and commissions the disciples—fascinating that his mother and brothers, his family, aren’t called. Jesus knows that this call will be to hard for them. He knows that this call will involve lots of pain and suffering for them, that it will involve the willingness to let him go to his death for all of us. Perhaps Jesus knows that his family is too dedicated to him, that their unconditional love for him will prohibit them from giving him up for the world. The rejection of his family is hard, but it is necessary.

And that rejection leads Christ to redefinition, leads him to redefine the true meaning of family for the disciples, for the crowds gathered, for the governmental and religious authorities, and for all of us. The seemingly harsh news of rejection as actually lovely, great news for the rest of us because Christ spends his ministry redefining, challenging, broadening our limited ideas of what the word “family” truly means, of what family should and could be. Throughout his ministry, Jesus surprises and challenges us, sometimes even shocks us by the people he heals, welcomes, eats with, listens to, forgives. From the very beginning, he calls common, ordinary fishermen, people with little power and even less money, to be his disciples. Over and over again, he cleanses lepers, folks who would never be welcomed into the temple because of cleanliness laws, touches and heals them, welcomes them as family as he makes them whole. He heals people who have been overcome with demons, making their bodies whole, giving them new life and hope. He brings people back to life, giving their families a break from their grieving, giving them new life again. Christ reaches out to women over and over again, giving them names, giving them power when they had previously had none, giving them life. He reaches out to immigrants from foreign lands, welcoming them with healing, reaches out to folks with beautiful, different shades of skin, telling them that they are equal and welcome in his family. Christ calls little children, children who are seen as nothing more than property, blessing them and calling them to come to him and experience new life.

You know I could go on and on, but simply put, Jesus Christ, God incarnate, shows us what the family looks like in the kingdom of God. He shows us God’s will as he reaches out to those are bleeding and broken, those who are sinful and hurting, those who are rejected and lonely, those are shunned and nameless, those who are grieving and desperate, those who are different and unfamiliar—he reaches out to them and says, “You are part of the kingdom.” And then he tells us to do the same: “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Thanks be to God. Amen.