Even Mary did not understand Jesus’ ministry. How hurtful it must have been to disappoint
her, and how lonely, but he knew his mission and remained focused.
Mary knew Jesus was uniquely chosen. Even by the time he was a toddler, there was
much that she pondered in her heart. The
words of Simeon and the prophetess Anna (Luke 2:25-38), the visit of the Magi .
. . Yet, there was no precedent, and she was living in the midst of the story,
not reading it or knowing how it was to unfold.
Likewise Jesus’ siblings might have perceived something different
in him as they played together or as they learned their father’s carpentry
trade. But no one really understood. They did not perceive him as “without sin”
or as “anointed,” and when he began his ministry, they did not see God in his
teachings.
They were embarrassed by him. He had been raised in the Jewish tradition,
regularly attending synagogue, but crowds were gathering to hear him question
the religious authorities. Rather than
reiterating their judgments against sinners, he presented a message of love and
forgiveness. He challenged their legalism
by healing on the Sabbath; and his anger was not provoked by those who broke the
long Jewish list of sins, but by those who self-righteously used their
authority to judge others. The religious laws called
for the woman caught in adultery to be stoned (but not the man); yet Jesus
questioned not her, but those who held the stones.
“What is he doing?” his family must have asked each
other. “Our brother surely is out of his
mind.” (Mark 3:21) He was becoming not
only an embarrassment, but a danger to himself, angering the authorities to the
point of wishing him dead (Mark 3: 6). “The
demons have possessed him,” the Jewish authorities were saying, because his
teachings were not like theirs. (Mark 3: 22)
So his family went to step in. Mary and his brothers. Jesus and his followers had entered a house
to eat, but they were unable to eat because of the crowds that gathered around
him. His family heard the stories and went
to take charge of him (Mark 3:20-21). Unable
to get inside the house, they sent someone to tell Jesus they were there to see
him. “Who is my family?” he responded. “These people gathered around me are my
family. Those who do God’s will.” (Mark
3:34)
Good intentions were not enough. Jesus' mother and brothers were a deterrent to his mission. Just as later Jesus’ rebuke of Peter to “get
thee behind me, Satan” (Matt. 16:23) was not a lack of love toward Peter, but
an acknowledgement that even one’s closest relationships, perhaps especially
one’s closest relationships, can get in the way of following God’s plan.
Surely Jesus loved his family. We see his love for Mary even at his death,
as he lovingly turns her care over to John.
“Mother, behold your son. Son, behold
your mother” (John 19:26-27). Yet, as
painful as it must have been emotionally, he had to separate himself from them,
for they did not understand. No doubt
they meant well, but their lack of understanding was a hindrance to his very
purpose for living; and had he chosen to be the perfectly obedient son and
brother, the perfectly legalistic synagogue leader, the one who made his family
proud and pleased the religious authorities, we would never have heard his
name, and his life would not have revolutionized the world.
Where are we in this story?
Are we following the Church’s teachings more closely than we follow
Jesus’ teachings? Are we reading the
Gospels at home, to know the difference? Are we hindering those who are praying alone
with sweat drops of agony, striving to follow God despite our opposition? God, forgive us, if so, for we mean well and
know not what we do.
