St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Wesley Chapel, FL
Preacher: The Rev. Adrienne R. Hymes, Vicar
Second Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 6 Year B
1Sam 8:4-11, 16-20/2Corinth4:13-5:1/Mark 3:20-35
June 6, 2021
“If you mess with my family, you’re messing with me.” Perhaps you have heard, or even spoken, various forms of this statement or warning depending on the recipient of the message. In both our Old Testament lesson and Gospel passage, this sentiment is conveyed by God to Samuel and implicitly communicated by Jesus to the scribes who opposed him. The undeniable message is that those who speak against God’s human agents in the world speak against the Divine One who sent them.
In First Samuel, the elderly prophet, Samuel, had made his sons judges over Israel. His sons, however, were corrupt in their dealings and refused to follow in his ways. The elders of Israel, in opposition to this intended line of succession by Samuel’s unqualified sons, demanded a king to rule over them like they saw that other nations had. Israel was not like other nations; it was God’s chosen people for whom God was its only king.
Offended by this demand Samuel prayed to God for guidance. While in prayer, God reminded Samuel that Israel had been forsaking him for other gods since the day he brought them out of the bondage of Egypt. “…They have not rejected you,” said God, “but they have rejected me from being king over them” (v.7). For the elders, the conflict with Samuel was limited to the human being they could see. What they did not realize was that their conflict with Samuel was not with Samuel, but with the one true God of Israel—whose glory could not be seen by any mortal without them dying.
This inability to see beyond the visible person of Samuel, handicapped the elders’ ability to recognize their existing divine ruler and all that was already theirs as God’s chosen people. Their focus on this temporal world had already led them to reject God, and his commandments, and would invite the oppressive earthly reign of a self-serving human king. The human default to focus on that which is visible, becoming oblivious to that which is invisible, yet very real, appears in our gospel passage in the third chapter of Mark.
Leading up to this passage, there was a lot of activity in Jesus’ public ministry. First, Jesus had been rubbing the scribes the wrong way, by healing a man in the synagogue on the Sabbath, and by forgiving the sins of the paralytic whom he healed. Only God alone could forgive sins, so to the scribes, Jesus was a blasphemer—an offense punishable by banishment or death. Second, the crowds seeking Jesus’ healing had grown so much that his safety was endangered; they would follow him everywhere, and there was concern that he might be crushed. Third, in the midst of all of this activity, Jesus had appointed the 12 disciples who would be with him, and be sent out to proclaim the message and cast out demons (v.14).
After these very significant happenings, our gospel passage follows Jesus going into a house, most likely Simon Peter’s and Andrew’s home in Capernaum. The crowds followed him there, too. This scene takes place simultaneously outside of the house where Jesus had gone and inside of the house.
The outdoor-indoor settings also represent the delineation between those who are outside of Jesus’ inner circle and those who are his inner circle. The scribes who had come down from Jerusalem were the same scribes who already had it out for Jesus. This time, they were outside of the house accusing Jesus of deriving his exorcism power from a demonic source. Jesus’ retort essentially challenged them to use their common sense. Jesus said that the downfall of any entity—whether it is a kingdom or house or Satan—is division from within. “How can Satan rise up against himself and still stand?” asked Jesus (v. 26).
Because the scribes did not know Jesus’ true identity, their accusation unwittingly linked the Spirit of God with Satan. These teachers of Israel were unaware that they had become blasphemers guilty of an eternal sin. So focused on opposing Jesus’ authority and power, the scribes were not able to see beyond the visible, human Jesus, in order to receive the truth of the invisible, eternal God, made flesh in the person of Jesus. When the scribes spoke against Jesus, they spoke against God, for Jesus and God are One.
Adding to the already-chaotic exterior scene, Jesus’ mother and siblings, who thought he was insane, had been calling out to him from their position outside of the house, trying to retrieve him. The physical positioning of Jesus’ relatives, outside of the house, and apart from Jesus, reminds us that they were not his disciples.
Ironically, the two groups that should have noticed Jesus’ true identity—religious teachers of Israel and his own relatives—were clueless. This hiddenness of Jesus’ true identity is characteristic of Mark’s gospel. Those who are “in the know” about who Jesus really is, are God, Jesus, the demons, the writer of the gospel, and the readers of the gospel.
In the midst of all that was happening outside of the house, Jesus sat inside the house in the presence of his chosen family, and said, “Who are my mother and my brothers?…Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (v.25). Apart from Jesus, one can neither know the will of God, nor know how to be obedient to God’s will. In order to know the Father, one must be in the presence of his Son, sitting with him and listening to him.
Perhaps you have heard that “You can’t choose your family.” In light of Jesus’ perception of family, perhaps we might more accurately say that you can’t choose your relatives, your family of origin; but you can choose your family—those friends who spend time in your presence, companion you in the sorrows and joys of life, and who see beyond your visible persona to know your truest identity.
The newly baptized are marked with oil on their foreheads with the words, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.” By virtue of our baptism, by water and the Holy Spirit, we are adopted into God’s family. While our true identity is not visible to the human eye, we can use our lives, guided by the blueprint of our baptismal covenant, to point to Christ’s light outside of the house, beyond the four walls of the church, for those who walk in darkness. Meanwhile, inside of the house, the church is a spiritual jungle gym for practicing loving relationships, in which our community holds each other accountable for nurturing our faith, and for living according to our true identity.
I am reminded of the 1991 Bonnie Raitt song, “Something to Talk About.” The refrain is, “Let’s give them something to talk about; a little mystery to figure out; Let’s give them something to talk about; How about love?” Our job, as God’s family, is to live in such a way that people talk about God’s love and God who is love. So, how about we give this visibly broken, temporal world something invisible and eternal to talk about—how about love, how about God! Amen.
