Lord of the Flies

Mark 3:20-35

With a few notable exceptions, this is a passage no one likes. I checked my files all the way back to my entrance into the computer age and realized I have never preached a sermon on this text. There is something about Jesus publicly declaring, “Who are my mother and brothers”, that doesn’t sit real well with most of us. I am so glad this text did not come up on Mother’s Day. While the scripture certainly carries deep implications for the theme of Christian Discipleship, on the surface it makes Jesus come across looking pretty bad. Of course one usually gets in trouble with a narrow reading of any text. When we dig deeper, we discover difficulties in this scripture that only begin with Mary being ignored.

Have any of you ever been involved in an intervention? Regardless if it involves taking the car keys away from an elderly person or forcing someone into a drug program it is not pleasant. There never seems to be any winners. Interventions are painful excursions into the very heart of a family’s dynamics and trust. In Mark 3, it appears, for the sake of Jesus, and perhaps the family’s reputation, Mary and her sons were going to intervene and rescue Jesus from his self-delusions. People were claiming Jesus was, “Out of his mind”. Perhaps Mary felt if she could just get Jesus home into a safe environment Jesus would come to his senses.

What exactly did Jesus do to raise all this concern? Looking back on the second and third chapters of Mark, you can see why everyone had good reason for concern.

Mark 2:5-6 – Jesus said to the paralyzed man, “Your sins are forgiven, stand up and walk.” Some of the scribes called these words blasphemy because only God can forgive sins.

Mark 2:15 – “Jesus sat down to eat with tax collectors and sinners.” Aren’t you known by the company you choose to keep?

Mark 2:18 – “Jesus and the disciples refused to observe fasting days set aside to pray for the coming of the Messiah.” Why should Jesus pray for the coming of the Messiah when he was the Messiah.

 Mark 2:23 – “They gathered grain on the Sabbath and Jesus declared the Sabbath was made for humankind, not humankind for the Sabbath.” What kind of nonsense is that?

Mark 3:1 – “He healed the sick on the Sabbath.” It was unlawful to touch unclean folks on the Sabbath.

Mark 3:13 – “As the Son of God, Jesus gave his disciples the authority to cast out demons.”  That raised all kinds of suspicions among the religious elite. People even declared the words of Jesus to be blasphemous.

The evidence was immense. Jesus hung out with the wrong folks, ignored religious traditions, worked and healed the sick on the Sabbath, cast out demons, gave his disciples permission to cast out demons and worst of all, implied he was the Son of God. There were rules laid down that insured everyone knew their place and everyone stayed in their place. If those rules were violated, chaos would reign.

Mary and the brothers of Jesus were well aware of the accusations. The decision was made to get to him home, let him rest in his own bed, feed him some chicken soup and hope for the best.

But the Scribes and Pharisees got to Jesus first. They said to each other, “He claims to cast out demons. He is Beelzebul, Lord of the Flies. We must get rid of him.”

Jesus replied, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, the house cannot stand.”

Here it might be a brilliant move on my part to introduce William Golding’s novel “Lord of the Flies” as an impeccable example of how society breaks down when confronted with the struggle between the influences of the powerful and those attempting to uphold culturally taught traditions. The only problem is my expertise of the Old Testament far outweighs my scholarship on 20^th century English literature. 

In the first chapter of Second Kings, Elijah confronts King Ahaziah. Elijah’s entire ministry involved a conflict with King Ahab and Queen Jezebel. Elijah constantly warned the husband and wife to repent and turn from their wickedness. But the queen and king viewed Elijah as a man with no respect for the throne. Elijah had no power, lived among the poor, occasionally healed the sick, and claimed to worship Yahweh, the God of Judah. Those of you who know the story will remember eventually the ill mannered and improperly dressed vagabond lived to see both Jezebel and Ahab die violent deaths. Their successor, Ahaziah, learned little from his parents. Two years into his reign he fell through his roof and was mortally wounded. Elijah arrived to see if he could offer relief to the King but Ahaziah sent messengers to bring the priest of Bellzebul. Elijah scoffs, “Even in death you call for the god of flies and dung.” Ahaziah challenged Elijah. “You do not know our traditions. You mock our power. Why should I listen to a crazy man who lives in the wilderness?”

Elijah must have looked at the king and wondered why this man clung to the illusions of the past rather than reach out to the God of the future.

Is it any wonder when John the Baptist came on the scene many thought Elijah had reappeared? He spoke the same words, challenged the very notion of ungodly authority and bought his clothes from the same thrift shop frequented by Elijah. When Jesus was anointed by John, is it any wonder those who claimed to know God, pronounced Jesus to be crazy and in league with the devil, even as  Jesus offered hope rather than repression, life rather than death, a new path rather than an old worn out way. Even his family was alarmed by his new lifestyle. Can’t you see them cringing when the neighbors complained, “Mary and Joseph didn’t raise the boy that way.”

Many years ago, some of us dared to question the traditions and lifestyles of the past as less than perfect. I know Tom Brokaw referred to my parents as the greatest generation and I suspect in many aspects they were. But the generation that defeated Hitler created a real mess in Southeast Asia. They struggled with issues of race and sex and a lot of other concerns that eventually divided us. Our parents weren’t perfect; and neither are we. Our children grew up reminding us of our many faults. I am pretty sure in their eyes we are just as old fashion, rigid and impossible as we imagined our parents to be.

I am sure many of you could share detailed stories of the conflicts that arise among generations. And here is the interesting part. What makes them difficult is that each generation knows they are right. While Jesus was perfect, tradition tells us Mary wasn’t far from it. Yet she was worried about what all the neighbors were saying.

What makes this passage so fascinating is Jesus confronted the very backbone of his parent’s culture. No one worked on Sunday. It was against the law. People were judged by the folks they associate with and no one was more suspicious in the time of Jesus than tax collectors and prostitutes. No one forgave sins. That was the job of God and God alone. Yet Jesus came to heal not only the body but the soul. Jesus came not just to save the sinner but the community. He did not come to divide us but to unite us in a common, holy cause.

A few months ago John, Phyllis and I went to Ashland to hear Cheryl Wheeler. She is a brilliant singer who really wants to be a comedian. As she prepared to offer one of her selections she mentioned she wrote the song as if it were a hymn. Then she quipped, “Growing up I went to church all the time, but I stopped before I learned how to hate.”

Regardless if it was the time of Jesus or the year 2015, people want to be united in a common cause. We gravitate toward people who look like us, dress like us, think like us, believe like us and then declare our truth to be the word of the Lord despite how unholy it might really be. Then if someone should dare to disagree with our divine revelations, we declare them delusional and inspired by Beelzebub.

What if they are inspired by Jesus? 

Sometimes we forget that Christ came to bring hope and joy to the whole community, including the exiled, the deported, the silenced, and the ignored.  

Sometimes we forget loving Christ more than our mother and brothers rescues us from the idolatry that would destroy the very community Christ came to save.   

Sometimes we forget Christ is not asking us to pull down the foundations on the heads of our fathers and sisters. Christ is only reminding us that God, the source of unselfish and holy love, is the proper head of any household.  

Sometimes we forget, but God does not. This world can be a mess. That’s why God calls us not to mirror but challenge culture, not sustain but question the status quo.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Bill Coffin, perhaps preaching on this text said, “It seems to me in joining a church you leave home to join a new community. The whole world is your neighborhood.  It is black, white, yellow, red, stuffed and starving, smart and stupid, mighty and lowly, gay and straight all coming together to become your brothers and sisters in a new family formed by Jesus. Here you declare your individuality in the most radical way in order to affirm community on the widest possible scale.”

The question we face this morning is, “Who are my mother and brother?” The answer is quite simple. “You are…..and you are…and you are.” Everyone who believes there are no insiders and outsiders is my brother. Everyone who confesses we are of one nature, one flesh, one grief and one hope is my sister.  Everyone who recognizes if we fail in love, we fail in all things is my mother and father. It is so simple, in Christ, we are one complex, diversified, homogenized community.       Thanks be to God.   Amen.