Scripture Matthew 12:46-50
While [Jesus] was still speaking to the crowds, his mother and his siblings were standing outside, seeking to speak to him. Someone told him, “Look, your mother and your siblings are standing outside, seeking to speak to you.” But to the one who had told him this, Jesus said, “Who is my mother, and who are my siblings?” And pointing his hand to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my siblings! For whoever does the will of my Abba in the heavens is my mother and sister and brother.”
Sermon
Yesterday was Pi Day—3.14—and so of course I found myself going online for the specific purpose of replying to the question: What is your favorite pie? on our church’s Facebook page.
In the process of doing this, and thinking about this sermon, I noticed the “Family” button on Facebook, and so I clicked on it, to remind me which family members I am connected to on there. To my surprise, one of the people on the list of ten is no longer my Facebook friend. Although maybe it’s not really a surprise. This cousin grew up in a church in which girls and boys were separated for things like swimming in a pool. In adulthood, women are certainly not permitted to lead congregations as pastor. I leave to your imagination what they think about gay pastors.
We are used to family being lifted up as the most precious treasure we can obtain… even the 80’s anthem about a group of sisters, that is no doubt still ringing in your head, proclaims: Get up everybody, and sing!
But we also know that family is tricky. There are all kinds of families—there’s the family of my cousin, a mom and a dad, seven children (six girls and a boy, yes, he’s the youngest). I grew up in the statistically common Mom, Dad, two children, a dog, and a cat household. But my parents were both older than most of my friends’ parents (in their 40’s when I came along), and my brother and I were both adopted at birth. So, we weren’t so typical after all.
There are all kinds of families: A mom and a dad, two moms, two dads, single parents, blended families, bringing together children in second (or subsequent marriages), bringing together different cultures, different races, different political and religious views. Being family can be complicated.
Scripture has its own complications regarding families. “Biblical” marriage can include anything from marriage between a man and a woman, to marriage between a man and numerous women (as in, Abraham, Jacob, and Kings David and Solomon), to marriage between a rapist and his victim. The rapist’s penalty was requirement either to marry the woman or to pay her the bride price, the goal of these being her financial stability and well-being. No mention in scripture about her PTSD.
At their best, families are havens where love, learning, and long-term commitment are the priorities. Not all families are able to live up to that, but most families are trying, hard.
Family is complicated. Families are complicated. And the family of Jesus is no exception. First, we have the miraculous conception—imagine sharing that at Thanksgiving dinner! Then, on our bulletin cover, we have an image of Mary, Joseph and Jesus, based on the story of their pilgrimage to Jerusalem, wherein they inadvertently leave Jesus behind. The twelve-year-old Jesus is later found in the Temple, talking scripture and theology with the teachers. Mary, far more composed than I would have been, says, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously looking for you.” (Luke 2:48). Jesus replies, “Didn’t you know I would be in my father’s house?”
Family complication for Jesus appears during his ministry as well. This is chapter 12. A couple of weeks ago I outlined what is a difficult day this was for Jesus, filled with people who were unhappy with his teachings and the behavior of his disciples. The chapter builds up to the story we’ve read this morning.
We know from the gospel of Mark that Jesus had at least four brothers—James, Joses, Judas, and Simon (Mark 6:3). We also know that he had at least two sisters, whose names we do not have. At the end of this tough day, Jesus’ family comes out to find him, because they want to speak to him. Matthew is discreet in leaving only context clues, but Mark’s gospel says it right out loud: His family comes to find him and restrain him because people are saying “He—Jesus—has gone out of his mind.” (Mark 3:21). This isn’t a cordial invitation to a family dinner. Jesus’ family is worried about him. They are attempting to stage an intervention.
We can infer important information from this situation. The first is that Jesus’ family are not his followers. They haven’t been going to hear him preach or to watch him heal or feed people. They are outside the house where Jesus is staying, and not inside, with his inner circle. They only know what they have heard second-hand, from a detractor. He has gone out of his mind.
Jesus hears the request for a conversation with him, and he responds with a rhetorical question, which he promptly answers himself.
“Who is my mother, and who are my siblings?” And pointing his hand to his disciples, he [says], “Here are my mother and my siblings! For whoever does the will of my Abba in the heavens is my mother and sister and brother.”
It’s easy to hear this as Jesus dismissing his family. We can hear it as a rejection, as a burn, though there’s no evidence here that Jesus is at odds with his family, only that they are worried. We can hear this, and say, Ouch. That must hurt. Where’s Jesus’ grace? Where’s the famous universal welcome he extends?
This is one of those times when it’s important to remember that each gospel story has at least two timelines. One of those is the original timeline: Jesus’s life here on earth, something like thirty years between the year 4 BCE and the year 30 CE. But there’s another important timeline at play here: the one involving the people for whom Matthew is writing this story down. At this time, somewhere around the year 80 CE, tensions between followers of Jesus and Jews who are not followers of Jesus are growing. The synagogues are beginning to ban Jesus-followers from communal worship, and the Temple is beginning to ban them from Temple worship as well. In other words, lots of the people who are hearing this gospel for the first time have lost their families. Their parents have disowned them, and maybe their siblings, too.
Not only have these folks lost their families, they have lost their culture, too. Think what it must have been like, no longer celebrating the holy festivals together. No longer going to synagogue or Temple together. No longer praying the Sh’ma Yisrael with their parents in the morning. Not being able to have their own children welcomed into the community with the familiar rituals. Even something as mundane as the way Jews greeted each other was lost to them.
When Jesus says, “Those who do the will of my Abba, my father, are my mother, and brother, and sister,” he is telling them more than his view on the importance of the beloved community who adheres to his teaching. He is also telling them that they do have a place to belong, they have a different kind of family, and that this family will never abandon them. God is faithful still.
Family is complicated. Families are complicated. They can be precious to us, and painful to lose, whether those losses come by choice or by the passing of time. And the family Jesus describes as “his family” is what we call “the Body of Christ,” which is another precious gift to us, and is yet another opportunity for our growth in both faith and wisdom. Jesus is not making the case that the families we grow up in are, by nature, bad. Rather, he is offering comfort to those who have lost their families, one way or another. He is offering them the community they need, whose ethics and culture are driven by his own words and actions.
Jesus reminds us that, at the head of the family he describes is his Abba, Father, Mother, our God of all compassion and love. He also reminds us of something I heard this week, something I think qualifies as wisdom out of the mouth of a babe. On this week’s online video, I talked about the various kinds of families. One of our young disciples was listening with his mother. He commented,
"Families are who love you."
To which I reply: thanks be to God. Amen.
Scripture Translation is from A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year A, by Wilda C. Gafney.