Proper 5, Year B | Mark 3:20-35
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
June 9, 2024
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
To watch the full service, please visit this page.
“Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” – Mark 3:35[1]
Today’s message is exceedingly simple: love one another. Do you want to know God’s will? That’s it—the whole thing. Is there some sort of secret to resolving conflict? Again, there you have it. What about dealing with people who seem hell-bent on being your enemy? The answer’s the same: love one another.
We live in such divisive days. It seems like all anyone wants to do is fight—or at least be angry. It’s like the whole world has breathed in the same corrosive air and we’re all trying to ensure the same pain in others as exists within ourselves. Instead of looking to understand one another or approaching each other with compassion, it feels like everyone’s just waiting—hoping, even—for anyone else to slip up. It’s like we’re hunting for flaws or reasons to dismiss one another, like those tiniest of differences are what make us who we are.
Honestly, I find it exhausting. I’m tired of our society’s constant bickering and arguing; tired of all the snap judgments and constant name calling. I’m tired of people taking descriptions or labels and turning them into identities—whether applying those to themselves or others. We find so many ways to reject one another. We define ourselves more strongly by what we aren’t—whatever it might be that we oppose at that moment—than by what we are or who we would hope for ourselves and others to be.
I get it; self-differentiation begins as a toddler with the ability to say, “no.” The ability to reject is a fundamental aspect of the ability to accept. It’s just frustrating that no matter how old we grow, we never seem to move past that initial, childish mindset.
The only solution I can see is the one that Jesus gave us two-thousand years ago—one that echoes throughout the longest-standing religions and philosophies around our planet and throughout human history: to love one another. Not waiting for someone else to do it first. Not expecting some sort of exchange or bartering of niceties. Just to love—to continue to love. And to love preemptively. Seek the other person’s best interests, even if they might inconvenience you. Be kind, even if they’re mean. Be respectful, even when they’re rude. Try to be the one to act first, just be sure to do what you can to act in a loving manner.
You are not the labels you give yourself. Nor are you whatever others might decide to think you are. You are not a Democrat, nor are you a Republican. Those might be groups with whom you choose to associate, but neither is your actual identity. You are not “progressive” or “liberal” or “conservative,” though those may be descriptive of how you tend to think. You are not a monster—nor are you necessarily always a saint; your past actions, real though they have been, need not exclusively define you. None of us here can even fully claim to be a Christian, though I hope that’s something we all seek to continue becoming. In reality, there is only one thing that any of us truly and genuinely is, and that is a child of God.
You are God’s Image—in your weakness, in your strength; in joy, in sorrow, in anger and contentment; at ease, in distress. Climbing a tree or singing a song or waiting for a diagnosis or stepping toward the very last of your days. And you know what? So is every single person sitting around you: the people you pass in the grocery store; that driver that ticks you off so badly; the politician, the artist—successful or struggling—the individual standing with a sign at the corner, even the frustratingly indecisive person holding up the line at Starbucks.
All are God’s children. All are God’s Image. Every single one.
That’s why we don’t get to choose—deciding who to see as human and who to declare is in line with Satan; distinguishing those worthy of our kindness from those who deserve to rot in hell; determining who might belong in the pew next to you or who gets to join in serving and worshipping God.
When Jesus talks about who his family members are, we read that he classes them as “whoever does the will of God.” But that isn’t exactly what he said. The way the verb is structured, there’s an aspect of possibility, intention, or volition to it. That means we need to add something like “could,” “would,” or “might” to whatever it is that the person “does.” And that expands Jesus family even further. Who is Jesus’ brother or sister or mother? Whoever might do what God desires. Whoever wishes they could. Whoever is waiting for the opportunity. Whoever holds even the slightest potential for ever following God.
So who then belongs in Jesus’ family? Who deserves to stand among God’s children?
Whoever is capable of love.
And that is why we must love one another, why it’s essential we look past the divisions the world tries to throw at us or the walls it wants to build between us. We love, not only because God’s children and Image is the reality of who we are, but to draw out and reveal that same Image in those we encounter. We love not simply out of obedience or duty or even because of genuine devotion. We love that we might reveal God’s family, that we might discover more of our estranged siblings, that we might spark familiar behavior in anyone who carries even the possibility of sharing loving action with someone else. We love in hope that, divided as we may sometimes be, we can recognize and reunite our family; we love in hope that we can all come home.
“…whoever might do what God desires—that one’s my brother and my sister and mother.”[2]
[1] All Bible quotations are from the NRSV unless otherwise noted.
[2] Mark 3:35 | My translation