A Fathers Day Message!
Mark 3:20, 31-35
Who Are My Mother and My Brothers?
If you just got here, we’ve started a series of sermons based on questions Jesus asked.
If you read the gospels carefully, you’ll find that Jesus asked a number of questions.
Each is concrete, practical, and applicable to everyday life.
Our goal in this series is to hear them as if they were addressed to us, consider their relevance to our lives today, and respond in faith.
The question for today goes like this:
“Who are my mother and my brothers?” (Mark 3:33)
To understand the implications, let’s put it into the context of Jesus’ life.
According to Luke, Jesus was born in Bethlehem but grew up in the village of Nazareth, about ninety miles to the north.
In Jesus’ day, Nazareth had a population of about a hundred and fifty, most of whom were interrelated.
The Nazarites, or “Natzorenes,” were a small sect of Jews who believed they were the shoot –the “Netzer” – from the stump of Jesse, from whom the promised Messiah would come.
They followed the teachings of Rabbi Shammai and were strictly orthodox and ultra-conservative.
They had as little to do with the outside world as possible, much like Hasidic Jews today.
While we don’t know the details of Jesus’ early life, we do know that when John the Baptist was imprisoned, Jesus stepped forward and announced his ministry.
Mark says,
Now after John was taken into custody, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the Good News of the Kingdom of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God is at hand! Repent, and believe in the Good News.'” (Mark 1:14-15)
He spoke in the synagogue of Nazareth and created an uproar. He said,
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim release to the captives, recovering of sight to the blind, to deliver those who are crushed, and to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” (Luke 4:18-19)
Then he went on to prophesy about God’s judgment upon Israel.
It was not what the elders wanted to hear.
They dragged him out of the synagogue, took him out to the edge of town, and were prepared to stone him to death.
For some reason, they stopped short.
Jesus walked away and never looked back.
He left his home and his family and moved to the nearby city of Capernaum on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee.
There things were different.
The synagogue was more open to his teaching.
Mark says,
“They were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as having authority, and not as the scribes.” (Mark 1:22)
He won the loyalty of four local fishermen – Peter, Andrew, James, and John; the local tax collector, Matthew; as well as seven more disciples and any number of followers.
As important as his teaching, he had the power to heal the sick and perform all sorts of miracles.
People flocked to Capernaum to hear him teach and receive his healing touch.
But with rising popularity came criticism.
His teaching was unlike anything they’d ever heard before.
He broke the laws of ritual cleanliness, he violated the Sabbath, he spoke openly of a kingdom not of this world, and he communicated directly and intimately with God.
In a word, he didn’t fit the mold.
When it became clear that he had no intention of conforming to the expectations of the religious leaders, they began to say, “He is insane.” (Mark 3:21)
Now, you know there’s a thin line between sanity and insanity, and when it appeared, even to his friends, that he’d gone over the edge, they sent word to Nazareth for his family to come at once.
Most likely, Joseph was no longer living and Jesus’ sisters were married and had families of their own.
So, it fell to his mother and his brothers to come to Capernaum and take him home.
When they got there, they found Jesus’ teaching in a home.
The place was packed.
People were standing in the doorway and spilling out into the courtyard straining to hear him.
Mary and her sons couldn’t get in, so they sent word, “Tell the teacher that his mother and brothers are outside.”
But when Jesus got the message, he said, “Who are my mother and my brothers?”
Then, looking around at the crowd, he said,
“Behold, my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, the same is my brother and my sister, and mother.” (Mark 3:35)
When Mary and the others were told what he’d said, they turned away and went back to Nazareth.
“Who are my mother and my brothers?”
What do you make of that?
On the surface, it seems like such a harsh thing to say.
Did Jesus mean to reject his family altogether?
In his book, The New Being, theologian Paul Tillich points out the fact that Jesus did not say, “Those outside are not my mother and brothers.”
In other words, he didn’t deny the relationship he had with his biological family; he merely expanded the family circle to include any number of others.
He pointed to a spiritual, rather than a physical, kinship as the basis for life in the kingdom of God.
Paul echoed Jesus’ sentiments when he wrote to the Romans,
“For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are children of God.” (Romans 8:14)
The implication is:
If sons and daughters of God, then brothers and sisters of one another.
This is what John Fawcett had in mind when he penned the words,
“Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love; the fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.”
The Spirit of God unites us as a family in a bond of love able to withstand the storms of life and last throughout all eternity.
It transcends the boundaries of age, race, nationality, and gender.
It encompasses folk from every station and walk of life.
No, Jesus didn’t deny the claim of his family on his life, but he did set the limits of their authority over him.
And specifically, with regard to Mary – and, if he were still living, Joseph –
Jesus defined the boundaries of parenthood.
This is a hard word we need to hear, both as children and as parents.
From earliest childhood, we’re taught to respect our father and mother.
It’s spelled out clearly in the 5th Commandment:
“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which Yahweh your God gives you.” (Exodus 20:12)
But there’s a difference between honoring your father and mother and giving them ultimate authority over your life.
The parental authority must always be subordinate to the authority of God.
For one thing, parental wisdom is prone to error, and parental love is often tempered by the need to control.
Parents, however, devoted to their children, are only human.
More importantly, while we’re children of our parents, we’re also children of God, and, as we grow in our relationship with God, we’re called to seek God’s will for our lives and follow the leading of God’s Spirit, even when it means overriding the wishes of our parents.
ADD IN______________________
It happens all the time:
A son chooses a different line of work instead of joining his father’s business; a woman chooses to marry a man her parents don’t approve of; couples decide to have children – or not to have children – over their parents’ wishes; even deciding who you’re going to vote for President election can be a problem.
Listening to God rather than mom or dad is never easy.
Even after they’re gone, the memory of their admonitions can have a binding effect on our lives.
It requires a lot of faith and strong conviction to respect the boundaries of parenthood, yet heed the voice of God.
Even then, it can lead to feelings of betrayal and guilt: “If my mother only knew what I’m doing, she’d roll over in her grave.”
But there are no two ways about it. Jesus said,
“He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me…” (Matthew 10:37)
No, honor your father and your mother but give your ultimate allegiance to God.
There’s also a flip side to the coin.
Jesus went on in this verse to say, “…he who loves son or daughter more than me isn’t worthy of me.”
If it’s hard, as children, to break away from the authority of our parents, it’s just as hard, as parents, to cut the apron strings with our children.
Why is it so hard, to let go?
As a parent, I figured it was my responsibility to provide for the kids and protect them from danger … to nurture them in their development … to encourage and support them until they were on their own.
Like teaching a child to ride a bicycle, you run alongside with one hand on the seat as the child gets the hang of it and establishes his/her own sense of balance.
You do your best to keep them from falling.
And, to be perfectly honest, as long as you’re holding on, you feel a sense of importance.
You know you’re needed.
Children give their parents a healthy dose of self-esteem.
They also give us a sense of identity.
I’ll never forget the shift when I went from being known as “Phil” to being known as Micah’s or Nathan’s or Charlanda’s father.
It took me by surprise at first: “Oh, I know you,” some kid would say, “You’re Micah’s dad!”
Then I got used to it and, over time, I came to prefer it.
In many ways, to let go of our children is to let go of our own lives – who we are as defined by who we’re related to.
We talk a lot about the “empty nest” syndrome, the crisis that occurs when the last child moves away.
But there’s more to it than getting used to the newfound peace and quiet; it has to do with establishing a new sense of identity.
To let go of your kids is to let go of yourself.
Of course, there’s no expiration date on parenthood – loving parents will always love their children – but there are boundaries.
And to cross the line; that is, to hold on to the dependency of the parent-child relationship is to violate the parental role and the growth and development of the child.
As loving parents, we have to cut the apron strings and insist that our children stand on their own two feet.
We have to let go and entrust them to God:
“He who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”
This is the goal of healthy parenting – to enable our children to become the men and women God intends them to be, created not in our image, but in the image of God.
John Power says this in a delightful way in his book, The Unoriginal Sinner and the Ice Cream God.
In the form of a letter from a father to his teenage son, he writes,
“Dear Son: Ever since the day you were born, I have made your life worth living. Make no mistake about it. I have done everything for you. And during all those years, just by being my son, you have made life worth living for me. I would have lived without you, but I would have never lived so well. Let’s call it even. And if we see each other after today, let it be because we’re friends, not family.” (p. 243)
Here’s the bottom line: Jesus clearly defined the boundaries of parenthood when he asked the question, “Who are my mother and my brothers?”
There could be no mistake about it, his relationship to God came first and foremost, and so must ours.
The Good News is that Jesus’ relationship with his family did not end here; it moved to a new level.
Mary became one of Jesus’ most devout followers.
She stayed by his side, if at a distance, to the very foot of the Cross.
And his brother, James, while hardly mentioned in the gospels, shows up in the Book of Acts as the leader of the church in Jerusalem. (Acts 15:13; 21:18; Gal. 1:19)
Setting the boundaries of parenthood opens up new possibilities for deeper and more enjoyable relationships for all concerned.
And so, as we celebrate Father’s Day today, may we take this occasion, not only to honor and remember our earthly fathers but pledge our primary allegiance to God,
confident that all who know God as Father and Jesus Christ, his only begotten son, will be united forever as brothers and sisters, one with another.
Now let me close with this, A confession if you will.
I have children with whom I have no relationship, not my choice, and grandchildren I do not know. But I love them and I am here for them the day they return.
I have reached out but to no avail so now it is in God's hands.
Amen.
PRAY
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