Belonging and priorities – 7 June 2015

Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” [Mark 3:31-35]

Well, to many in the church and far beyond, that’s puzzling to say the least.  In most cultures on the planet, I would think, family will take much higher precedence than that.  I vividly remember talking with an Italian man whose attitude was, you may criticise my wife, who is from another and therefore inferior family, but you say anything against my mother or my sisters or brothers who are beyond reproach, watch out.  Family ties trump other commitments and obligations.  “Blood is thicker than water” -- a cliché often trotted out as though it meant something real.  And yet, oddly, many adults know well that it was not always family they came to rely on, when in need of confidence and secrecy, comfort, wisdom or solace. 

Jesus, so far as we can see, loved his parents and his family home.  But he left it.  He found eventually a wider family and a home much more varied.   For all that, I think it was a little harsh of the gospeller, in this case Mark, to picture Jesus’s mother and brothers left standing forlornly outside (“outside” is stressed) humbly begging to see their own son and brother – and Jesus responding with what to them would have been a dismissive and hurtful remark.   I certainly wonder if this faithfully represents the situation.

However, in our lives we do have competing commitments.  We do not live in monasteries where our duties would be unitive and clear.  We have on the one hand our spiritual choices, our vows, our obligations to God, our deepest desires and callings, our bonds within the Christian community – and on the other hand we have the ties of love to those we knew first, to parents and family, who may be far removed from all that.  These competing commitments only multiply…  The classic example which lives in my memory is from my last parish; I had just announced a very special service to take place on the next Sunday, and one officebearer, the father of a young family, said he wouldn’t be there – it would be the day of the Santa parade, and the children’s grandparents (also church members, I may say) insisted on duteous attendance at that every year.

What I am trying to avoid saying, in so many words, is that I think the gospeller behind Mark’s Gospel got it wrong.  Mature faith requires that we interpret the letter of the gospel by the Spirit of Christ.  If Jesus was rude and dismissive to his mother and brothers, we know from the narrative that he had had a difficult, distressing and abusive encounter, just then.  That is clear from the preceding dialogue in the Gospel.  The Christian contemplative resolves these apparently clashing commitments by having them all present in the silence and stillness.  Given time, we begin to see aspects which we were missing before.  The changes needed may be in us – but it is the Spirit of Christ who will sort that out, once we are still and silent and consenting.