Get Microsoft Word Viewer 2003
 Concord Trinity Podcast Feed (Podcast Instructions)

Expanding the Circle

ANCHORS OF HOME

Expanding the Circle

July 29, 2007

Text: Mark 3:33-35; 9:38-41; 10:28-31

Mark 3:33-35

“Who are my mother and my brothers?” [Jesus] asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

NRSV

Mark 9:38-41

John said to him, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”

NRSV

Mark 10:28-30

Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age — houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions — and in the age to come eternal life.”

NRSV

Last Thursday I was reading that great theologian, Dear Abby.

A man wrote in disturbed about something his cousins did, cousins he hadn’t seen for 20 years.

Abby responded, “Your story reminds me that people need to be careful how hard they shake the family tree because nuts may fall out.” [PD, 7/26/07]

Any one know what Abby means?

Here’s an old Weeks family photo, taken in 1905 in the backcountry of Mississippi.

(As you can tell, we came from the upper crust of Southern society.)

There’s my dad, Jackson, sitting on the knee of his mother, my grandmother Cordelia. Behind them is her husband, my grandfather DeWitt Clinton Weeks. Standing over there is my dad’s half-brother, Clelon Mathis.

Seeing their faces brought back good feelings. These are my ancestors. Their blood runs in my veins. I remember their stories, their other pictures. I carry their name.

Then I looked at the other faces. At first it felt sort of good, seeing that I’m related to all these people. But then, I grew just a bit uneasy.

I DON’T KNOW WHO THESE OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS ARE—THEIR NAMES, WHERE THEY CAME FROM, WHAT THEY DID, WHO THEIR CHILDREN WERE, WHEN THEY DIED, WHERE THEY’RE BURIED. Strange, unknown faces.

I remember Dad throwing around some names of relatives. Could one of them be great uncle Lonzo? What about great aunt Fronie? Don’t know.

To be honest, it’s a little disturbing. Just when you think you know your family, other faces appear. If I shake this tree, how big are the nuts that will fall? They might tell other stories that would challenge the stories I heard and believed growing up. I might discover there are two or three sides to every story. I might discover new skeletons rattling around in the family closet.

We like to know who our family is. We don’t like surprises. We don’t want to be a central character in a Star Wars movie and unexpectedly hear, “Luke, I am your father.”

Families are best enjoyed when not messy. When names, faces, stories come together in one neat package. That gives us a sense of identity, rootedness, pride.

We want to know all the faces in family portraits. And if we don’t, it’s easiest just to reduce the photo to the ones with whom we can identify…

This way we don’t risk any miscellaneous nut falling on us.

Jesus knew this human tendency so well. He knew that photo-shopping faces out of a family portrait is defensive, defaming, and demeaning. He knew that when you limit who you call “family,” you live in a dream world—you see life through only one small sliver, of your own choosing. He also knew that when you limit who you call family, you fragment and isolate folks. And that leads to feuds, and even wars.

In Mark’s Gospel, you can trace how Jesus consistently fought the tendency to collapse family into just people under the same roof with the same name. He always challenged people to “expand”, not reduce, the number of folks who make up their family.

Listen to these three “nuggets” from Mark. You can hear how he resisted cutting out faces from the family picture.

You heard the first nugget in the sermon last week. Jesus is teaching, when his mother and brothers come to see him. Being told they’re outside asking for him, he replies,

“Who are my mother and my brothers?” [Jesus] asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”

Family isn’t what’s behind a name.

Family is “spirit.” Family is whoever—note the “expansive” word whoever—does God’s will. Jesus doesn’t care about the genealogy written about him in Matthew and Luke. Doesn’t care who his family has been in the past. He cares about who his family IS right now, today. He calls brother and sister whoever loves the Father like he loves the Father. He calls brother and sister whoever is able to heal relationships, to forgive and move on. He calls brother and sister whoever is concerned about justice. He calls brother and sister whoever is concerned about treating others with patience, understanding, and compassion. He calls brother and sister whoever welcomes a child’s laughter, or dries a child’s tear.

And the disciples, hearing this, scratch their heads. “We thought ‘family’ was just about bloodlines and names! You mean family is larger than we can imagine?”

Here’s the second nugget.

Jesus had been walking with his disciples.

John said to him, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us. For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”

Jesus uses that “whoever” word again, notice that?

And the disciples, hearing this, scratch their heads. “We thought we were a ‘family’ of disciples. We thought we were the ‘chosen,’ and Jesus would call only us his ‘brothers.’ After all, Peter is one of us, right? You mean there are other people Jesus would call his ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ as well? People we don’t know, people who might not see things exactly as we see them?”

Here’s the final nugget from Jesus.

It’s dawned on the disciples that the longer they follow Jesus, the more they’re distanced from their own biological families. They’re feeling nervous and isolated.

Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age — houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions — and in the age to come eternal life.”

Jesus could have easily used that expansive word here again. He could have said, “WHOEVER has left house or brothers, etc.”

And the disciples, hearing this, widen their eyes. “We lost our ‘family.’ We’ve each been cut out of the family picture. But we’ve gained a new one, a closer one? Our ‘Father’ created ALL the bloodlines, and unites them through the Spirit revealed in Jesus his son. We have a family larger than we can imagine—and what a beautiful family it is, even if there are a few ‘nuts’ in it!”

“What a beautiful family it is.”

Every so often we catch glimpses of how beautiful a family we’re a part of.

Where were you in the 1993 flood?

Back in Columbia, Missouri, we did sandbagging, trying to save some of the small towns in the area. What a sight. College students and farmers. Bikers and professors. Elderly women and football players. All side by side, passing sandbags down the line, or providing lemonade.

This was a scene repeated throughout the Midwest during that summer and fall. The different “bloodlines” of the human family intermingled, and side by side they were working, sweating, laughing, and shaking hands. I never knew “family” could be so large, so varied, so colorful—literally.

Where were you on 9/11?

Actually, where were you in the days following 9/11?

So many people crying and hugging. So many people talking and listening. So many people reaching out.

Prof. Robert Putnam, in Harvard’s School of Government, said this:

“The immediate effect of [Sept. 11 attacks] has been to reverse what has been a 30 to 40 year steady decline in most measures of connectedness or community. Blood donations are up. Volunteering and philanthropy are up. People are hugging their kids and saying hello to their neighbor and joining in community activity. That’s the terrific news, and that’s real.”

You’ll no doubt remember that feeling of closeness, of unity with people across the nation, around the world.

But Professor Putnam goes on to say,

“After every crisis, whether it’s a flood, a hurricane, or war, there’s always a spike in community involvement. The real question now is: How long does it last? What can we do to make this last? I think that’s at least as important a question for us to ask now as, ‘How do we fortify the cockpit doors?’”

Jesus was about “making it last.”

Can you and I be as intentional?

Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we could gain this broader sense of family, outside of some crisis?

Hey, you know what? When I walk around this church on any Sunday morning, there’s usually no crisis.

And I understand that things happen in this church outside Sunday morning as well.

What wonderful faces to add to any family portrait. All you have to do is take time, get involved, reach out, be open.

And there was no crisis when a family gave up a trip to McDonald’s, and instead contributed to the Smile Train—that’s the group that provides surgery around the world for children with cleft palates. Five year old Boonme from Cambodia became part of their family.

There was no crisis when another family gave up a trip to Spanky’s Frozen Custard, to make a $10 contribution to Nothing But Nets—a program that provides mosquito netting for African families, to prevent malaria. And some unknown but beautiful children in Africa became part of their family picture.

And there was no crisis a few Mondays ago when some folks went downtown to Centenary United Methodist Church, to take part in their “Centenary Cares” program. And someone like Manuel was added to their portrait.

What stories such people can share—and how rich our lives may become.

You know, just seeing part of a family doesn’t do a family justice.

You need to see the whole picture, to make the family complete.

Who will YOU add to your photo?

You’ll never know how beautiful family can be, until you expand the circle.