Gospel of Mark

The Family of God

Mark 3:20-35

Then he went home; and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. When his family heard it, they went out to restrain him, for people were saying, ‘He has gone out of his mind.’ And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, ‘He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.’

And he called them to him, and spoke to them in parables, ‘How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.  And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but his end has come.  But 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. 

‘Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin’ — for they had said, ‘He has an unclean spirit.’ 

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, ‘Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.’ And he replied, ‘Who are my mother and my brothers?’ And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’


So, Jesus is up to no good again – at least as far as the scribes from Jerusalem, the headquarters of the Temple – were concerned. They accuse him of working some kind of black magic, by the power of Beelzebul, to cure diseases and cast out demons, which Jesus tries to explain is preposterous … impossible, even. “Satan cannot cast out Satan,” he says. “A house divided against itself cannot stand,” he tells them. No, Jesus was stronger than the strong man, Satan. Jesus was the Son of God. Jesus was the one who’d come to tie up the evil one and plunder his property for the good of the world.

And, Satan wasn’t – Satan is not – some red-winged, hoof-footed, pitch-fork wielding creature from the Dark Side. That’s not a bad way to personify the evil Satan represents, because that image of the Devil has always scared the hell into me almost as much as the evil he represents. But no, the evil Satan represents – and to which Jesus refers, I believe – is scarier still. And that kind of evil and sin and darkness is anything and everything that gets in the way of the grace and love and light Jesus meant to bring into the world.

And this morning, that kind of sin and darkness is represented by anyone who misunderstands, who mis-represents, who tries to limit the kind of grace Jesus was trying to share. 

And one of the ways Jesus seems to suggest sharing that kind of light … that kind of love … that kind of grace … in the world and for the people who followed him, was by re-defining who and how we might learn to call each other brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, parents and children; how we might come to know one another as “family” in some unexpected, surprising and holy ways.

See, when his own mother, brothers, and sisters, come looking for Jesus in this morning’s Gospel – presumably to save him from himself, from the scribes, and from whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into this time around – they can’t even get to him. He’s surrounded by a crowd of faithful followers when his family shows up, and between those followers and his family, his accusers have set up camp, establishing a mote of mistrust and ugliness between them.

And when he hears that his family has come for him, he says, in effect, “who are you calling ‘my family?’ These people who get it are ‘my family.’ These people who love me are ‘my family.’” (I don’t think Jesus means any disrespect to his mother, Mary, and whatever of his siblings she may have had with her that day. But I think he’s adding to his circle – adding to his family – in a powerful way, just the same.) He’s saying that anyone who does the will of God, anyone who follows the Way of faith, anyone who walks in the ways of Jesus … those people – these ones closest to him – are counted among his brothers and sisters. They are his ‘family’ as much as anyone, whether they share the same blood, DNA, whatever.

And it made me think about some of my favorite families:

Some of you will remember The Schlegels. They moved away from Cross of Grace a few years ago. But I remember when Paul and Robin Schlegel (they're the short ones in the picture) got the call, as they were literally loading their family of four into the car to leave for vacation, and were told there were newborn, African-American twin girls, just born and ready for adoption if they wanted to come and get them. In the middle of what was a pretty brief deliberation considering the circumstances, Paul said something like “those little girls need a family.” So they purchased some car seats, picked up the girls at the hospital, loaded up another car, recruited three grandparents to join them, and started their new life together as a family of 6, on vacation in South Carolina. This is what brothers and sisters and family can look like when the love of God plays a part.

And here’s another one of my favorite families:

Our friends Kristi and Lisa established their family a little untraditionally, I guess you could say. After a hard road with artificial insemination, they lost their first little girl, Lucy, delivering her stillborn after 24 weeks in utero. After that, they embarked on their own journey to adopt Elle and then Zoë, over the course of several years. (These little girls don’t even know how good they have it, yet, getting to be raised as princesses - in every sense of the word - by two moms who are executives at Disney World.) Finally, Kristi and Lisa got married and they do “family” as beautifully, and as well as anyone. This is what sisters and mothers can look like when the love of God gets involved.

And many of you know about Madame Jean and Bervincia.

Bervincia is the little girl the Indiana Havels sponsor, down in Haiti. That’s her grandmother, Madame Jean, who raises and cares for Bervincia, since her mother died in childbirth, delivering what would have been Bervincia’s baby brother, who also didn’t survive. Of course, Madame Jean does it all without any help from an absent father or knowledge about where he might be but with some support from extended family and friends on her side of the mountain. This is how a family comes to be sometimes – by way of necessity and God’s provision.

My point is that, in the lives of faithful, generous, loving people like these, “family” takes the shape of people gathered together to do the will of God. To love one another, even when it isn’t conventional. To love one another, even when it isn’t expected. To love one another, when it isn’t easy or convenient or even acceptable in the eyes of the world, as much as you would think it would be in this day and age. To go out of the way to CHOOSE love – is how we experience and grow the family of God we see Jesus establishing – and calling us toward – through his life, death and resurrection.

Which brings me to one of my other favorite families: (We took these pictures right before each worship service, this Sunday morning, but no one knew why until it showed up on the screen during the sermon.)

We are called to love one another in ways that are surprising and difficult and open-armed and without boundaries. We are called to love one another in the face of the world’s limited expectations and in spite of what may even make sense a lot of the time. We are called to create a family in the name of Jesus that might make us and others wonder if we’re not a little bit crazy every once in a while – just like the scribes wondered about Jesus back in the day.

I think that means we give more money and resources away for the sake of others, because people would think we were nuts. (Just like Jesus.)

I think that means we let more people in – so that the line for communion on Sunday morning would make people wonder if they were in church, or at the bar, in prison, or at the hospital. Wouldn’t that be crazy? (Just like Jesus.)

I think that means we start thinking differently about extreme poverty; about violence against women and children; about racism, sexism, consumerism, homophobia; about a climbing suicide rate; about the next school shooting; the rate at which people die every day of preventable, treatable diseases like malaria, AIDS, and from lack of clean water; about whatever in the world is happening to families at our southern border.

And I think we will do that best – and most faithfully – if and when we start believing and behaving as though all of it is happening to our own children, in our own house, at our own schools, and in our own Church – because it is and because it does when we see ourselves as brothers and sisters of Christ – when we see ourselves as family – and when we mean it the way Jesus expects we should.

And when we do that – when we expand the definition and expectation of who we experience to be our brothers and sisters – our children – the Kingdom of God will happen among us, the Kingdom of God will happen through us, the Kingdom of God will happen for us, and for the sake of the world – for our own family and for God’s family, just the same.

Amen

Humble Passion

Mark 2:23–3:6

One sabbath [Jesus] was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” Then [Jesus] said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; 28 so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.


The message for today is about humility; and for once, Jesus is not the hero of the story. In fact, he is the example of what not to do.

Today’s gospel story comes in two parts, both dealing with Jesus’s confrontation with other religious people around the topic of the Sabbath.

In act one, Jesus and his disciples are walking on a journey and glean some wheat from a field. As this all takes place on the day of Sabbath, anyone who witnesses their actions is right to point out that Jesus and the disciples are in the wrong. The Sabbath day is a day of rest commanded by God. Journeying from one place to another is something that should be done on the other 6 days of the week. If they absolutely had to embark on a journey on a Sabbath day, the very least they could have done was to pack their lunches the day before. That is simply part of what it means to observe the Sabbath.

But here they are breaking long-held religious instructions in plain view.  When confronted by others, they do not apologize or offer an excuse. Instead, Jesus equates himself with David, who  broke Sabbath in order to feed people bread. Then Jesus goes even further by declaring that he is the Lord of the Sabbath. The religious people find this utterly despicable.

If you haven’t picked up on what the big deal is, perhaps it would help to recall that the disciples were teenagers and Jesus was likely in his late-twenties, early-thirties. This is a conflict on many levels, including generational. These young kids burst onto the scene with no respect for religious traditions, customs, or rules; and then have the audacity to say not only are they not sorry, but they are making new rules. 

And so, the scene is set for act 2, in which the Pharisees watch this arrogant rebellious Jesus enter the synagogue on the Sabbath and heal a man with a withered hand. 

If you haven’t found this interesting, even with me having just called Jesus “arrogant,” then maybe you’ll find this next idea compelling. 

Jesus is often made out to the be hero of these stories because he makes the claim that feeding and healing take priority over the religious barriers that would have otherwise prevented them from receiving help. But here’s the catch: this is something the Hebrew people believed already. This was not a new radical approach to Sabbath living.

Scholars cite traditional rabbinic sayings including:“Profane one Sabbath for a person’s sake, so that he may keep many Sabbaths.”*

To clarify, by healing the man on the Sabbath Jesus isn’t really even breaking Sabbath rules. Even if it was technically a violation of the Sabbath, there was a precedent for doing exactly what he did. The issue is not the Sabbath nor the responsibility of feeding or healing; rather this is all about a conflict of personality. 

The Pharisees see Jesus as an arrogant usurper and a dangerous youth who would tear apart everything they hold dear. Jesus sees the Pharisees as heart-hardened guardians of a faith that keeps people at arm’s length from full restoration and participation in God’s kingdom.

These are two opposing forces that believe in mostly the same things. For all intents and purposes, they are on the same team, yet they are positioned as enemies. This might take some imagination on your part, but one could equate it with conflict within a team, or a family, or a church…which always seem to be the most painful conflicts, right?

It’s the reason religion and politics are the taboo topics of today. We so closely associate our sense of self with our religious and political persuasions that we cannot entertain any other perspectives. We perceive different perspectives as direct threats to our sense of self. Even when we agree with one another 98% of the time, we fixate on the 2% in the other person that we don’t understand and refuse to take one step towards one another. And, as indicated at the end of today’s gospel, such conflicts are often drawn out to the bitter end, with the destruction one or both parties involved. 

I believe the antidote is humility, and again, I don’t look to the Jesus of today’s gospel passage for inspiration.

Instead, here’s where I saw this idea play out recently.

Throughout May a group of us read and discussed a book by self-described “lunatic libertarian Christian farmer” Joel Salatin. This book is his attempt to explain his theological rationale for his farming methods, which cover topics including free-range livestock, non-GMO crops, farming without pesticides and herbicides, and many more related topics.

Very few people liked the book, to put it mildly. The primary reason was because the author comes across as very judgmental, harsh, rigid, and arrogant. The author believes deeply and passionately that his model of farming can feed the world and restore God’s creation; but he was unable to convince many of us because of his oppositional attitude and his unwillingness to compromise or empathize with the forces he was setting himself up against. 

Knowing that interest in the book was rapidly waning through the weeks, I scheduled a trip to Tyner Pond Farm in Greenfield this past week. This is the farming operation that provides home delivery throughout the Indy-area, as well as the meat and eggs to the Mug restaurants as well as Grigsby’s Station in Greenfield. I wanted to introduce our book group participants to the owners and farmers at Tyner Pond Farm because they were practicing Joel Salatin’s farming techniques in a tangible, accessible, inspiring, and humble way.

As you can imagine, our day at the farm was a completely different experience than anything that had happened in our book discussions at church. Amy Baggot, one of the owners and farmers, spent the entire morning with us, excitedly taking us from farm to farm introducing us to piglets, herds of cattle, and hundreds of chickens. She spoke with passion about her calling to raise animals in a way that honors their unique role in God’s creation. She talked about loving and being inspired by her animals. She embodied the important principles the author was trying to make in his book; but which we found inaccessible due to the author’s arrogance. And even the most skeptical among us were smiling at the glory of their farm. 

Our minds, and consequently our behaviors, are incredibly resistant to new information. Facts do not change our behavior. Other peoples’ insistence and/or arrogance does not change our behavior.

In order for our behavior to change we must be inspired. Typically the ones who inspire us are the ones who are most passionate – ones for whom their passion is presented not from the volume of their voice or insistence they are right, but more from their ability to draw peace and hope from their passion and let it spread across their very way of being in the world.

Today’s gospel is a warning about how easily we can become entrenched in our beliefs and how that entrenchment can lead to needless suffering and destruction. The flip side of this warning is the promise held out of just how easy it is to transform the world when our passions are expressed through expressions of humility, wonder, and grace. 

Amen.

* Amy-Jill Levine, The Misunderstood Jew: The Church and the Scandal of the Jewish Jesus (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), 33.