Sun Kwak, “Identity Crisis”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E12j_JE3aIs
TEXT: Mark 3:20-35
[20] Then he went home, and the crowd gathered again, so that they could not even eat. [21] And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for they were saying, “He is out of his mind.”
[22] And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem were saying, “He is possessed by Beelzebul,” and “by the prince of demons he casts out the demons.” [23] And he called them to him and said to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? [24] If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. [25] And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. [26] And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. [27] But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house.
[28] “Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, [29] but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”—[30] for they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.”
[31] And his mother and his brothers came, and standing outside they sent to him and called him. [32] And a crowd was sitting around him, and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, seeking you.” [33] And he answered them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” [34] And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! [35] For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.”
SERMON: “Identity Crisis”
I’m going to take two swings at these set of verses. And so, since our children are with us today, I’m going to go with the more age-appropriate of the two swings. So today, I’m starting off alluding to a beer advertisement. Do any of you remember the Dos Equis commercials? It was with this bearded a little more than middle-aged man with the perfect combination of scruffy and put together. He would end each commercial by looking at the screen and saying — I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I prefer Dos Equis. Stay thirsty, my friends. But if you remember, what preceded that ending always included some narrating of what made him the most interesting man in the world. And here are some of the more memorable ones for me:
In a past life, I was myself.
In museums, I am allowed to touch the art.
I have won the lifetime achievement award … twice.
When I was young I once sent my parents to my room.
I gave my father “the talk”.
My mother has a tattoo that says, “Son”.
And if you didn’t get that last one, it’s because sons usually have tattoos that say Mom. And what’s ridiculous about that last statement is that in most, if not all, cultures, your identity has to do with what family you belong to. You are identified by who your mother and your father are, and not vice versa. When I first started coaching flag football for YAC — Young Athletes for Christ — which is an organization here in Camarillo. Before I was a coach in the league, I was just Jones’ dad. And he had been a part of the league and had been one of the stars amongst those in his age group. So, when I was being introduced as one of the new head coaches in a leaders meeting, some of these assistant coaches and referees, who play local junior college football, were looking at me with a bit of skepticism, at this plump 5’9” middle-aged man dressed in non-athletic attire, looking at me like — Prove yourself to us why you should be one of our new head coaches. But then, the director of the league pointed out that I was Jones’ dad, and they all knew who Jones was from coaching and reffing previous seasons. And all of a sudden, that skepticism turned to approval, as they all collectively acknowledged — OH, you’re Jones’ dad. And I still don’t know how I feel about that, because it’s as if he legitimized me and not the other way around. That if I was his dad, then I probably knew a thing or two about football. And so, kind of like that Dos Equis situation, here I was, as the parent, who found an identity in this league through something earned by my son and not the other way around. That at that moment, it wasn’t that he was my son, but rather, that I was his dad. And all of that felt incredibly unnatural.
And I think this is a helpful starting point for understanding one of the stranger things that Jesus has uttered, where he’s asking — Who are my mothers and brothers? This is one of those head scratchers. Because his mother and brothers are right there. It almost seems offensive. And so, imagine if you were his mother who’s known him his whole life. You’re concerned for him, because that’s what moms do. And he’s out there healing and gaining a following. But above all that, he’s saying these crazy things, that he’s the Savior of the world and the Son of God, that his Father is the creator of the world, and that he and the Father are One. You might react the same way Jesus’ siblings and mother do, telling him, “You need to cut it out — stop it.” And so, it’s in this context where he raises this head scratcher of a question — Who are my mothers and brothers? And they may have been puzzled by this statement, but it gets at something incredibly important. Because he’s getting at our fundamental relationship to him. And the one who gets front row seats and is used as the clearest example of this is his mother Mary. And for Mary, she loved her son. He was always the perfect child, the good older brother, the honoring firstborn. Think about Jesus’ siblings growing up with Jesus. When Mary is asking — Who made this mess and didn’t clean it up! I know it wasn’t Jesus, so it had to be one of you! And by all means, he was and is the perfect human who causes nobody to sin and stumble. But raising children takes effort. And for Mary, even while raising the Son of God in her home, she still had to care for him — feed him, carry him, give him naps. That ultimately, as his mother, she had to protecthim while a vulnerable infant. And so, about this paradox, Augustine writes — He [as in Jesus] was carried by hands that he formed. He cried in the manger in wordless infancy, he the Word, without whom all human eloquence is mute. Mary was put in this unique position of caring for while being ultimately cared for, of protecting while being ultimately protected by the very one who was in her arms. And I think it’s this paradox that Jesus is alluding to here. Because it would have been natural for Mary to assume that her primary relationship to Jesus was that of a mother to a child. But what he’s correcting — that before Mary was to see her as her son or his siblings were to see him as their brother, they first needed to see him as their Lord and their Savior. That they found ultimate identity through and in him.
Now, today is our First Sunday potluck, so here comes a food analogy. We’re having subs and not sandwiches per se. And Mark employed this literary tool called a chiasm. And the best way to understand a chiasm is through the analogy of a sandwich. And specifically, for Mark, he used it so much that his chiasms that occur with narratives within the Gospel of Mark scholars have alluded to as the Markan sandwich. Meaning there are two parts that allude to one another on the outsides that serve as the buns. And then, there’s the part in the middle, which is the meat. And one of the purposes of a chiasm is to use the outer buns to point to the meat. That it’s the meat that gives fuller meaning to the entire chiasm. And R. T. France, among others, looks at verses 20-35 as one of these Markan sandwiches. You look at verses 20-21 today, and we have one of the buns — describing those who are identified as Jesus’ family. And then, we have in verses 31-35 a conversation about who is Jesus’ family, which is the bun on the other side. Meaning that what explains who Jesus’ family is comes from what’s in the middle, the meat, which is verses 22-30. And we’re going to be spending more time in these verses and more explicitly the next time we’re in this passage.
But in summary, verses 22-30 describes in part a parable that Jesus uses to explain that he’s come to do battle against evil and the works of the Devil. And he does it through this parable, describing a strong man and warlord. And as he’s describing this battle, he uses words like kingdom and plunder in relation to the house of this strong man to indicate that this strong man and warlord is one who resides in a castle. And the mentioning of plundering suggests that one who comes into this warlord’s castle is waging against him. And the word used for goods here in verse 27 is one that relates to vessels and valuables and earthenware. But it’s also a word used to describe prisoners who are held captive. So, here is Jesus using this parable to show that the reason why he’s entered the home of this strong man, this warlord was to bind him down in order to set the captives and prisoners in this castle free. And so, one of the ways that the apostle Paul will later come to describe himself is as a prisoner for Christ. And this had a dual usage, because he had written some of his letters from prison. But here was one who never lost sight of the fact that he’d been rescued and had his shackles shattered by the power of Christ, who came into his danger. That his identity came through and in he who set him free.
Now, I’d mentioned that what Jesus is doing when asking the question — Who are my mothers and my brothers? That this was him putting a proper order to the relationship he has with his people. That before he was Mary’s son, he was Mary’s Savior. That before he was James’ brother, he was James’ Lord. And before he is our counselor, our therapist, our friend, our healer, our provider, he is first and foremost our Savior who rescued us from the captivity of sin, from imprisonment in the castle of this warlord, this strong man from whom we have no escape from aside of the power of Christ and Jesus’commitment to our rescue. And so, in answering the question of who we are, we trace this story of captivity and rescue, which necessitates our acknowledgement to our own condition and plight — that we are not fine and okay but are in danger and in need of rescue. Because to assume that Jesus is first and foremost our Savior entails that we need saving. It requires us to regularly say some of the most painful words to utter — I need help. I am lost. And as someone who has, to my wife’s dismay, horrible sense of direction, I have a different relationship with Google Maps depending on what I’m admitting of myself at the moment. I’m not desperate for its place in my life when I’m doing the dishes. Or, when I’m listening to a podcast. Or, when I’m reading a book. But the moment I’m on the road, I’m keenly aware of my relationship to Google Maps to be not one of co-existence but of utter dependence. And in this journey of life, where none of us are sure of when or how we’ll get to the end, those words are critical for us to utter — I need help. I am lost. And it seems that this was and is a key ingredient to those Jesus identifies as his kin.
George MacDonald has this fairy tale The Princess and the Goblin, and it involves Irene with her great great grandmother who serves as her protector. This great great grandmother gives Irene a ring. And she tells her that if she takes it off and puts it under her pillow, there will be a thread that she can’t seebut can feel. And when she moves forward, this thread will guide her to where her great great grandmother is. And so, in the story, one night, Irene hears goblins coming up the stairs. And so, Irenequickly takes off her ring, puts it under her pillow and takes a hold of the thread. She’s walking as she’s being guided by the thread. And she thinks she’s going to be taken upstairs, where her great great grandmother’s bedroom is. But the thread leads her out of the back window and outside. And as she’s being lead by this thread, she continues until she hits a wall. The wall, where on the other side, is where the multitude of goblins dwell and inhabit. The thread had taken her into the heart of danger, because that’s where her great great grandmother entered. If you follow the thread of Jesus’ promises for his people, you’ll find him in unexpected places. Not upstairs sleeping but at enemy headquarters and in imminent danger. When we call out for help and follow the thread, we’re lead to the place of our ultimate refuge, which was his ultimate danger as the one who enters the strong man’s house to set the captives free. Because when we’re told that Jesus’ mother and his brothers went out to seize him in verse 21, that word for seize is a strong word. It’s also translated as arrest. And we find this word used again later in the Gospel, over in ch14v44, where Jesus had been praying to his Father the night before his crucifixion. And there, we read — Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man. Seize him and lead him away under guard.” To be arrested, to be seized, to be takenand to be nailed to a cross where prisoners die. Because in Jesus’ commitment to entering the strong man’s house, it wasn’t just to set us free but it was to take our place. That he would be seized and arrested and incarcerated where we should have been. And there is power in this sacrifice, because it binds down the power of the strong man, the strength of Satan.
And so, here’s how I want to begin closing our time. In our incessant quest for self-identity, we find our deepest belonging when we find our identity in Christ. That our relationship with him is fundamentally rooted in his rescue of us. That this is where our new story begins. And we in the Modern West have this incessant struggle with our identity, this identity crisis. Because culture and society tell us that we are what we do. So, when we mess up and fall down and relapse and we raise our voices and we let our minds drift and we enter into the habit of sinning again and again. It makes us think that we are what we do. I mean, that’s Nike’s new slogan. Gone are the days of Just Do It. Our actions create our identity, in the patterns of this world of self-discovery. And if you recall from the early 2000’s, there was trilogy of movies centered around Jason Bourne. And the first of the Bourne trilogy was Bourne Identity. Where he wakes up on a boat with his entire memory erased. But he has some documents, and he has this passport that tells him where he’s been. And as he’s trying to find his identity, he notices that he can do some superhuman things. And he begins to realize that he’s a trained spy. And all of these evidencesand abilities lead him to this place called Treadstone, where he finally gets the answer to his true identity. And in many ways, we’re like Jason Bourne. We often forget our identity in Christ, and we’re in regular need of finding our identity. And so, when we drift away from this Story of Grace, we forget. And as we examine our habituated behavior, we come to realize that we’re not spies but our behavior tells us we’re sinners, and we’re lost, and we need.
But then, we start uncovering evidences, and we peruse our passports, to where we’ve been and what’s been done. That we were once imprisoned, and it took one who committed to this prison break to set us free. And one of the things that tricks us into thinking that we’re still imprisoned is the slithering voice of this strong man, this warlord. Because what the Bible shows us is that he actually doesn’t coerce but he co-opts. And his favorite tactic is to play nice, with his fingers crossed behind his back. He’s the great deceiver. And what he loves to slither in your ears are not just what you’ve done wrong. Those are things that we need to be regularly reminded of — We need help. We are lost. But it’s not just that. But it’s that Jesus won’t find us. That our sins are beyond saving. That we can’t possibly be part of God’s kingdom when we keep doing things like that. But when we hear those accusations, we follow the thread of God’s promises. Out the back window and outside. And to the place of greatest and ultimate danger. Leading us to the cross, to our Treadstone, to the place we find our identity as those who were rescued. That our slips and stains don’t define us, but we look to the one who wears our scars. And it’s through this regular experience of exfoliation — of admitting to the fact that we are lost and need help, of removing our dead outer layers through bringing them to be rubbed into deeper conversations and in the sunshine of God’s grace. This is what gives us renewed identity, new skin, new hearts. Friends, when we forget our spiritual identity, let’s follow the thread of God’s Story to the cross and empty tomb to our truest identity in Christ. That our identity comes not through what we’ve done but rather, it’s through what he’s done and accomplished once and for all, as our Savior and Rescuer.
