Matthew cleans up Mark's brutally truthful language. The
brothers of Jesus and his mom come to collect him to bring him home. His
preaching and his claim to be the special envoy of God are bringing confusion and
unwanted shame to the family and they are embarrassed because he is 'out of his
mind.' His family is not an unconcerned bystander to whom a scriptural lesson
must be taught. They are angry with him and will give him a verbal whipping
when they get him home and bring him to the family psychiatrist who will scold
him and make him conform.
This is what families do. Family secrets are not to be
made public - under any circumstances. Jesus stands there, in front of the
crowds, and calmly stretches out his hand towards his disciples. He declares that
he belongs to a new family. His family of origin can choose to be a part of it
by doing the will of God or not. Tension within that household and village must
have been thick. I bet some people are saying of you, "You are out of your
mind" for making this 30-day retreat.
Members of our family of origin do love us. They also
give us a lifetime of prayer material as we deal with the cards we have been given.
Much of the chaos we carry with us is learned during our formative years. We are
prone to respond in unhealthy ways when these experiences are painful. Sometimes
our external circumstances leave us wanting: we dislike our bodies; we are not
pretty, smart, or strong enough, or straight; we are adopted or a mistake; we
have an emotionally distant father or an alcoholic mother; or we weren't born
into the right social class. We repress memories as if something terrible did
not happen; we deceive ourselves into thinking we are not wanted or cared for; our
self-esteem is shot; we have been threatened, harmed, and transgressed unjustly
by others; the list can go on, but so can our recurring, ineffective, coping
cycles that destroy our well-being and happiness.
Somewhere along the way, our sins and the sins done to us
have undone us. We are paralyzed and demoralized and we keep our secrets zipped
up so tightly that we are not even sure of their truthfulness. We are as sick
as our secrets. In fact, we won't let anyone in. We push back; we keep others
at bay; we close down the deepest parts of ourselves so others don't dislike
us; our fears get engaged and we fight or flee. We fail to see the kindness and
mercy of someone who is trying to be our helpful friend.
We find ourselves unable to reliably go to our self for
information about the world. We can't trust ourselves and we become separated
from our real self. We are so accustomed to keeping others at bay, we don't
even let Christ see our most vulnerable parts. This is where we sin. We sin out
of our strength, not our weakness. We sin because we close ourselves off to the
love that many people hold out for us. We fear what people might come to know
about us. Fear is not faith. Fear is our sin of infidelity to Christ. This
contorted, deeply entwined chaos binds us, defines us, and owns us. We are out
of our minds. Sadly, we think we are alone.
The story of the Exodus tells us that we are to pass
through our fears like the Egyptians did. When they were at the road's end,
they began to despair. Just as they were about to give up, Moses (just like
Jesus in the Gospel) stretched out his hands and showed the way to salvation.
The Israelites were able to be saved from destruction by passing safely through
the dry land of the sea. Once the people were led to safely, Moses once again
stretched out his hand to cover the land with sea water to vanquish the threat
of harm.
It is not easy to pass through the all-consuming waters
of our fears. We fear being open to God. We hold onto the illusion that we have
control, and we fear giving God control. We figure, if we hold onto our fear,
we at least have control of it - control of something. We may not want to
relive the pain from stinging memories that may have become our friend. As we
get close to these memories, we recoil from the touch. We have been too hurt to
want to befriend them. Our sense of preservation tells us they will only reveal
to us what we have done wrong and how we deserve the bad stuff that happened to
us. But there is a different way.
Jesus is stretching out his hands trying to show us a
path to liberation. We have to pass through the devouring waters of our fears
with him. The mystery of Christ's life is always happening. His presence
transcends time. He can part the waters to lead us to safety. He can bring us
through our bad memories to heal us. What is not transformed within us is
transmitted. With him, he can reveal a different view to our memories that
gives us a freeing insight. In him, he can forgive the deeds we have committed
and give us courage in our imagination to stand up to those who have harmed us
and sinned against our boundaries. Our imagination brings meaning to our
experiences as it unites our mind and heart. Through him, we can become the
person we truly have always wanted to be.
We have to respond to him when he stretches out his hand
with a gentle invitation or a surprising nudge or a lingering whisper. We have
to stretch our hand back to him so he can grasp onto it and bring us through
the waters of shame, dread, and despair. We have a choice, but Christ stands in
front of us beckoning us to follow. Even if we don't have the strength to walk
through the sea, we still have a choice. If we remain where we are standing, we
can see our fate will be like the charioteers and Egyptian soldiers. We remain
free enough to choose wherever Jesus is leading us. Do you want to go? Do you
really want to go?
His pleading eyes convey what he wants for us. He has to lead
us there. He has to do it for us. We cannot liberate ourselves. We need a savior
to liberate us from our contorted muck. We know that because our chaos remains
unchanged through our efforts to deal with them. We cannot do it. Only his
love, his personal love for us, only a deeper affection can conquer our
disordered affections and make them aright once again. Only the deeply caring
reach of Jesus will lead us to our wholeness - to our real true selves. Our
free choice is this: we can hold our hand back to Jesus so he can grasp it and
carry to us this freedom. Take his hand, please. Take his hand. Sure, this
unknown path has its own fear and uncertainty, but take his outstretched hand.
Let his hand grasp yours.
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