Dysfunction Junction (Sermon June 7)

Scriptures:
I Samuel 8:1-22

2 Corinthians 4:1-18; 5:1                     Mark 3:20-35

Those of us of a certain age – a certain age slightly older than mine – may remember watching TV in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s and watching the show “Leave It To Beaver”.  Many of our longtimers remember hearing June Cleaver tell Ward, “Ward, I’m worried about the Beaver.” – referring to their son, Beaver Cleaver.  Through the years, as “Leave It To Beaver”  was replaced by the Partridge Family and the Brady Bunch and the Addams Family and the Simpsons and Family Guy and Modern Family, the situations depicted have kept pace with changes in society, and if June Cleaver were to watch Modern Family, she’d probably keel over with a case of the vapors.  But one thing that’s constant in all of these shows is that none of the families and none of the individuals in the families are perfect – after all, a TV show about a bunch of perfect people sitting around doing perfect things perfectly would be about as interesting as watching paint dry, and about as good for ratings.  Exaggerated as these shows are, they also remind us that while our families may not be as funny as the ones on TV, they are at least as imperfect and even dysfunctional. 

Our Gospel reading can perhaps comfort us by reminding us that even the family of Jesus was far from perfect.  If we grew up feeling misunderstood by our families, our reading reminds us that Jesus most certainly was misunderstood by his.  Back in December, we had all the readings and carols about Mary and Joseph and the babe, but in our reading from Mark’s gospel, Joseph has left the scene – died, we assume, though we’re not told – and the babe is now 30 years old, and has at least four brothers – James, Joses, Judas, and Simon; they’re named in Mark chapter 6 – and sisters as well.  Like June Cleaver, Mary is “worried about the Beaver”….worried about Jesus, I should say – so much so that Mary and the brothers though Jesus had lost his mind and were trying to find him so that they could restrain him – chasing him with the proverbial straightjacket and butterfly net to restrain him.   Gee, I don’t think Beaver Cleaver ever had to worry about June trying to send him to Byberry.

Meanwhile, if I had to cast someone in the role of Eddie Haskell, who on Leave It To Beaver could always be relied on to stir up trouble, though it’s not a perfect analogy, I guess it would have to be the scribes who came down from Jerusalem.   “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.”  Jesus’ family is already fearful for Jesus’ sanity and even safety, and along come the scribes with words that make an apparently bad situation even worse.  Jesus is not just insane, they say, he’s possessed, dominated body and soul by the Evil One. 

Welcome to Dysfunction Junction. What did Jesus do to cause all this uproar?  After being baptized by John and having the Holy Spirit descend on him, and after having spent 40 days being tempted in the wilderness, Jesus had done some healings and exorcisms, had chosen his twelve disciples – and then he went home and taught.  Extraordinary acts, to be sure, but why did Jesus’ family and why did the scribes take such a negative view of Jesus’ acts of power?  Perhaps we can forgive Jesus and his family and the townspeople who doubted; up to this point, Jesus had been the local carpenter, and were used to dealing with him in that role, used to Jesus being in that box.  “Oh, Jesus, yeah, he’s the carpenter.   Makes great tables and chairs, really sturdy.  Too bad about his father not being around.”  But now Jesus was healing and teaching with authority.  Who did he think he was?  But wouldn’t we expect the scribes, the religious authorities, to be able to discern that Jesus’ power came from God.  Alas, Jesus didn’t fit their expectations, didn’t fit into any of their boxes either – he hadn’t been to any of their schools, he hadn’t been taught – not by them, anyway. So what Jesus had to say didn’t count.

Jesus tries to reason with them.  They accused him of casting out demons by means of demonic powers.  And so he asks them a simple question, “How can Satan cast out Satan? Why would Satan be in a state of civil war against himself?  How would that benefit Satan?”  Jesus reminded them that if demons are cast out, it is by a power for good that is stronger than Satan – that is, the power of God.  That is to say, Jesus’ healings are not a trick of Satan, but a sign of the overthrow of Satan’s power by Jesus.  And, indeed, Jesus says that attributing to Satan the good works of God is not just a mistake, but a sin, an unforgivable sin, an unmistakable sign that one’s spirit is so twisted and turned inside-out that one prefers the work of the devil to the work of God.

Having tried – likely without any great success – to explain his healings and teachings to the authorities, he is told that his mother and brothers are outside, and that they would like a word with him.  And now Jesus does something that will shock and scandalize those of us with gauzy, sentimental ideals about family.  Jesus says, “Who are my mother and brothers?  Here” (referring to those seated around him) “are my mothers and brothers!  Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” And, by all indications, he left Mary and the brothers standing outside and went back to teaching those who had gathered around him.

Sounds pretty cold.  I assure you Hallmark does not have a card in stock that’s appropriate for this situation.  And yet I think many of have friends, or know people who have friends, that they think of as “my brother from another mother” – that is to say, even though they’re not biologically related, they’re as close as family, maybe closer.  Perhaps more importantly, Jesus is emphatically insisting that neither the religious authorities nor his own family of origin have any claim on him, that Jesus’ call to serve God trumps even the dearest ties of blood and tradition.  Jesus is not a genealogist; one is not bound to Jesus by means of one’s family tree.  Rather, one is bound to Jesus by ties of faith and obedience and solidarity.   And notice – he said those who were with him were mother, sister, brother – but not father.  That’s because God is father.

I’d like to go back to those words of Jesus, “How can Satan cast out Satan.”  Exorcisms aren’t a part of our normal experience, and so while Jesus’ words make sense, they may not seem especially relevant.  But I’d like to suggest that all of us, from time to time, or maybe even most of the time, are tempted to try to use Satan to cast out Satan – at least metaphorically.  We’ve all heard the saying, “the ends justify the means” – and yet Jesus’ words may prompt us to think – maybe not.  Maybe the ends don’t justify the means.  Maybe the means inevitably infect and corrupt the ends.  For example, remember that World War I was called “the war to end all wars”.  And yet the harsh terms imposed on Germany at the end of World War I were among the factors that undermined the Weimar Republic and led to the rise of Hitler, and to World War II.   Or, in Vietnam, we encountered phrases such as “we had to destroy the village in order to save it.”  Using Satan to cast out Satan doesn’t work.  Waging war in order to end war doesn’t work.  Revenge doesn’t work – as Gandhi is quoted as saying, “An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind”.   Even think of an argument with a friend or family member – each side escalates the confrontation, shouting louder, waving hands more frantically – or an online conversation, with both sides adding more and more capital letters and exclamation points…..and when the confrontation finally ends, neither side’s views are changed.  We’ve all been there, myself included, and perhaps the more passionately we feel, the more often. 

And passion is a good thing – the world has never been changed, for better or worse, by people who stayed on the sidelines and minded their own business – but passion has to be channeled.  Martin Luther King said that, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hatred cannot drive out hatred; only love can do that.”  What’s needed is to change the conversation, to use love and creativity – sometimes, even humor - to short-circuit the cycle of anger and violence; or if we’re deadlocked in an argument, perhaps rather than remain locked in our positions , to ask questions – “Why do you feel so strongly on this issue? Why is this issue such a hot button for you?”  Perhaps our opponent is speaking out of some belief they grew up with that they never really examined – they were always taught growing up that gays are icky or Muslims worship Satan and never stopped to question - or perhaps their life experience has been dramatically different from ours – certainly, in our country, poor people face challenges that wealthier people don’t even realize exist and racial minorities face challenges that whites don’t even know exist - and we and our opponent can learn from one another’s experiences.   For Jesus, and for the followers of Jesus, the goal is not suppression of opposing viewpoints, but conversion; not to cast our enemies into outer darkness, but to win them over as allies, or at least to neutralize their opposition so that both sides can live and let live.  And so, in our gospel, when accused by the scribes of being possessed by Beelzebul Jesus did not respond in kind – did not respond by telling the scribes, “I’m rubber, you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you” – but instead asked questions that pushed the scribes to see that what they were saying didn’t make sense.

As Christians, we are called to be different, not to replicate the world’s say of doing things, but to challenge it.  God called the people of Israel to do the same, and we see them fail at this in our Old Testament reading.  Under God’s guidance, Samuel has led the people of Israel as judge for many years. He has ruled justly, but he’s growing old and won’t be around forever, and his sons are corrupt.  And so the people come to Samuel and tell him, “we want a king like all the other countries around us.”   And Samuel becomes very upset, so much so that we the reader may wonder why.  Hey Samuel, don’t freak out; take a chill pill. The issue has several levels.  The issue is political – the people are asked to be ruled by a king instead of being led by a judge.   The issue is certainly personal – it’s a slap in the face to Samuel, a rejection of the leadership of Samuel’s sons.  But the issue is also theological – remember that God had explicitly told Israel that God himself would be their king, and that he had set them apart to be different from the other nations, to model a different way of living, and now the people are telling Samuel that they want a king like all the other nations.  The call for a king is a rejection of the very reason God brought Israel into being, and so God tells Samuel, “they have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them.”

For Israel to want to be like all the other nations was to reject God’s call for them to be different.  For us to say that the country or the church ought to be run like a business is to reject God’s call for us to live by a higher standard, and we all know how slimy Wall Street can be.  For us to live according to the world’s standards is to reject God’s call for us to be different, to reject the call of Jesus to be “in the world but not of it.”

Jesus says, “Who are my mother and brothers?  Here” (referring to those seated around him) “are my mothers and brothers!  Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”  May we live as those called to be members of Jesus’ family….Amen.