“Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” (MK 3:35)
The Gospel lesson from Mark begins with a Jesus who has just completed a successful
first round of teaching and healings that has made him a sensation in his
region. Hundreds of people wanting to experience this charismatic figure from
the Galilee have assembled outside his home, creating so much noise that it
proves impossible for he and his followers to have a meal in peace.
But
it’s also drawn his detractors. The vested interests within the religious
establishment of Judea are on site to dismiss him. He’s crazy, they say,
possessed by demons. No doubt, to a culture whose guardians have carefully
taught them to shame the poor, the prostitutes, and the sick, much less the
hated Samaritans, a teacher who insists that each of these human beings is valued
by the G-d who created them and whose image they bear must be crazy.
Even Jesus’ family members are there to rein him in. They come to where Jesus is to call him outside where they can talk some sense into him. Perhaps the family is worried that their reputation is in danger here. In an honor/shame culture, reputation means everything.
But I also have no doubt that Mary was probably worried about Jesus. She clearly didn’t know what to make of what Jesus is saying and doing. What she does know is that she loves her first born child deeply and fears for his safety. Bear in mind this is the woman whom the Temple priest had foretold that “a sword shall pierce your heart.” Sadly, time would prove that warning to be well founded.
Jesus’
response to his family is what leapt off the page at me. “Who are my mother
and my brothers?” he asks. It’s an odd question coming out of a culture
where family ties and the duties that flow from them are seen as sacred. He
then looks around himself at those gathered to hear him, answering his own
question with the statement “Here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever
does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
Biblical
scholars are not of one mind regarding the origins of this passage. It could
readily reflect the divisions that opened within the synagogues where Jesus
followers were present at the end of the first century, ultimately prompting
the rabbinical leaders to expel the Jesus followers. Jesus’ statement suggests
this conflict: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
It could also reflect the struggle for leadership in the Jesus movement itself at the end of the first century that erupted between the community led by James, Jesus’ brother, and the growing movement that increasingly included Gentiles led by Paul. But given the shock value of these words and the potential to draw into question social structures and cultural values, I think this could easily be the Jesus of history.
Ears to Hear: Listening Through LBGTQ Ears
A
common line that we encounter in the Gospels is “Let those with ears hear.”
Of course, what any of us hear is often determined by what we bring to that
hearing. That is true of all of us, including your preacher tonight. And so it
is hardly surprising that in this month in which we celebrate LBGTQ Pride, what
I heard in this passage echoes a common distinction within the gay community between
families of choice – those who love and accept us as we are - in contrast with
families of birth - those to whom we are related by accident of birth.
Some
of us know the pain of having our families of birth reject us, choosing the
affirmation of their religious circles, their social circles, their political
circles, over their own children. Some of us know what it’s like to be called
crazy because our affectional patterns run afoul of a heterosexist CIS gendered
norm. Indeed, some of us know the scary experience of being declared demon
possessed by those who far too often confuse revealed religion with socially
constructed prejudices.
My guess is that many of us can relate to Jesus’ Mother, concerned for the immediate safety of her child as well as the welfare of the rest of her family. Many of us know the vicarious pain of watching our loved ones weep or burn in anger as we have endured dehumanization from fearful people around us.
It’s also important to note that the family’s attempted intervention comes in the context of a confrontation of Jesus by the religious authorities of his day. None of us need to be reminded of the long dark history of demonization and discrimination that LBGTQ people have endured in this country and around the world throughout history. And we know that this animosity can readily express itself in deadly behaviors.
The
Last Pandemic: Families of Choice Cared When Families of Birth Abandoned Us
This Pride month occurs on the 40th anniversary of the eruption of a deadly virus called HIV that was roundly ignored even as thousands of our loved ones took ill and died awful deaths. Worse yet, many were disowned by their families of birth and demonized from the pulpits of their churches. It was their families of choice who nursed them as they died and often who buried them as well. Jesus’ question rings loud and clear in the experience of many who felt abandoned by those they most needed in that time:
“Who are my Mother and my brother and my sister?”
This month also marks the fifth anniversary of the deadly Pulse massacre at the former night club across town. What I remember most about that tragic event was the vigil a week later in which a grieving family of choice numbering 100,000 residents circled the mile long rim of Lake Eola with their candles to insist “Hate will not prevail. Love wins.” It was a stunning demonstration of the Way of Jesus in action:
“Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
It is tempting to look at the successes the Gay Liberation movement has achieved in the past decades and assume the long quest for recognition of dignity is over. That’s particularly true in light of the lifting of the arbitrary restrictions that long precluded many of us from the benefits of legal marriage. For many of us who grew up in days when our lovemaking itself was a criminal offense, this was a major shift that most of us felt we would never live to see.
For that and for the role our church played in helping those changes to occur, I give thanks to G-d. But the post-election stream of legislation that would erode if not completely take away the expectation that LBGTQ people will be treated with dignity in our society suggests that our struggle is not over. If nothing else, the skyrocketing death toll of transgendered persons targeted for violence coming in the wake of legislation singling them out for unequal treatment tells us that many in our families of choice remain very vulnerable.
It’s
Hardly Just LBGTQ People Who Understand This
Of
course, one need not be LBGTQ to know what Jesus is describing here. How many
of us have found that we no longer can have civil discussions with people we
grew up with, people among whom we have lived, worked and worshipped? How many
of us find ourselves debating about whether to go to that family dinner at
Thanksgiving or the class reunion at the high school this month? Jesus’
question “Who are my brothers and my sisters?” is particularly relevant
to many of us.
In a time when partisanship with all its contrived litmus tests has become fiercely tribal and notions like unquestioned belonging and unconditional love seem far away, some of our families of birth and some of our former families of choice no longer offer us a place at the table that does not come at a tremendous price. And that price may prove much larger than we think before these conflicts are resolved. As Jesus said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
There is a reason Abraham Lincoln quoted that line frequently in the time of the Civil War.
What
the Will of G-d Looks Like
Jesus’ assertion that his followers can be known by their willingness to follow the will of G-d is vague. Most of us respond to this verse with obvious questions: What is the will of G_d and how do we know it?
Again, the words of the Gospel are helpful here. “Love G-d with all your heart and soul and mind and your neighbor as yourself.” Or as Jesus himself says in the Gospel of John, “God is love and where true love is, God himself is there.”
Finally,
let us remember that loving one’s neighbor as oneself begins with a healthy
love of oneself. Loving one’s neighbor never requires anyone to become a
doormat or a punching bag as a condition of relationship. That may well mean
that we must learn how to love those whose attitudes, words and behaviors cause
us harm from a safe distance. It may mean avoiding the family dinners, the
latest blast of forwarded social media or even in-person encounters with those
who simply cannot love unconditionally. In some cases, the most loving thing we
can do is simply to pray for those who would harm us even as we remain outside
arm’s length.
There is much to think about in this Gospel and so I commend it to you . I close with our collect for today:
O God, from whom all good proceeds: Grant that by your
inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by your merciful
guiding may do them; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with
you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
[A sermon preached June 6, 2021 at the Integrity Eucharist, St. Richard’s Episcopal Parish, Winter Park, FL]
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Harry
Scott Coverston
Orlando,
Florida
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