Twelve from the Swarm

“Twelve from the Swarm

Text: Mark 3: 7-21 Esv

7 Jesus withdrew with his disciples to the sea, and a great crowd followed, from Galilee and Judea 8 and Jerusalem and Idumea and from beyond the Jordan and from around Tyre and Sidon. When the great crowd heard all that he was doing, they came to him. 9 And he told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, lest they crush him,

10 for he had healed many, so that all who had diseases pressed around him to touch him. 11 And whenever the unclean spirits saw him, they fell down before him and cried out, "You are the Son of God." 12 And he strictly ordered them not to make him known.

13 And he went up on the mountain and called to him those whom he desired, and they came to him. 14 And he appointed twelve (whom he also named apostles) so that they might be with him and he might send them out to preach 15 and have authority to cast out demons. 16 He appointed the twelve: Simon (to whom he gave the name Peter);

17 James the son of Zebedee and John the brother of James (to whom he gave the name Boanerges, that is, Sons of Thunder);

18 Andrew, and Philip, and Bartholomew, and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus, and Simon the Cananaean, 19 and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him. 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." 

SWARMS

There’s something you see in the midwest—in places like Omaha, Nebraska—that you rarely if ever see here in California. On warm summer nights, after dark, when you step out toward the street and look toward a streetlamp, you don’t see there what you see here. Here, you see a streetlamp—a luminous glass enclosure shining light all around—but there it is great shimmering fog of moths and insects—a greasy globe of living confetti all around the light and in the circle of lamplight on the ground below. Moths, aphids, lacewings, midges, mayflies and a thousand other species of little flying things swarming about.

Many people’s cars or trucks have a clear,  plastic type of spoiler on the front of hoods of their vehicles. The purpose of these devices is to throw a wind break up and over the windshield of the car or truck. With these, your windshield of an evening’s drive may have only two or three dozen insects plastered to the glass, rather than the usual hundreds.

Wherever you find a light source, you find swarms of flappy, buzzy little critters.

What we find in our text today is that the crowds—the large crowds—are following Jesus wherever he goes. They are a pestering swarm of interested onlookers, like Pokemon enthusiasts going after a rare Bulbasaur, or, like shoppers at WalMart on Thanksgiving evening, they are aggressively pressing in to take advantage of the night’s free offer—healings, teachings, and the satisfaction of seeing the local big shots taken off their high horses.

The central problem of our text is that unlike the hoi polloi crowds, the righteous, the religious and the faithful are not drawn to Jesus.

We’re going to briefly review the text and then consider why it is the righteous, religious, faithful overlooked Jesus.

JESUS AND THE BIG CROWDS

News was out about Jesus. He healed lepers, paralytics, and demon-possessed people. He taught as one with authority, unlike the Pharisees, and had a way of showing them up on their own turf, the synagogue. The crowds came to him from every part of Palestine, from way south to way north.

Jesus knows the crowds are coming and that crowd control will likely be a problem. He calls for a boat in case they need to make an escape in verse 9:

9 And he told his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, lest they crush him,

This was unheard of in Jesus’ day, but in our day it happens all the time.  Elvis struggled to get from the stage door to his limo, the Beatles were chased down English streets by mobs of schoolgirls. In 1979, 11 young people were killed at a Who concert in Cincinnati, simply trying to make their way into the arena. The crowd was so compressed and eager to get inside and take their seats, they didn’t even realize people were in trouble. The crowds of Jesus’ day were not just highly-motivated; they were dangerous.

Again we hear of unclean spirits being cast out, but before they are, they proclaim to Jesus: “You are the Son of God!” And again, Jesus “strictly orders” them not to blow his cover.

Next, he goes up a local mountain and as it says in verse 13:

called to him those whom he desired, and they came to him.

Just note: the entire crowds did not go up; just the ones “he desired.” He calls them and they all came to him. Apparently, the call is irresistible.

They will be called “apostles” which means “ones who are sent.” Perhaps the best translation for the word apostle is missionary. Missionaries are those we send out in gospel mission. We tend to think of them as people who are sent internationally, but it includes every local project as well. When your lifegroup gathers to serve in a local project like Bridges to Home, you go as missionaries of First Pres. You are apostles in that you are sent to do ministry in Jesus’ name. The role of the twelve is to:

to preach and have authority to cast out demons.

In short, that means to spread the Christian worldview in Jesus name and to address the spiritual world with Christ’s own authority. And we do cast out demons. Dark forces reside within every church. Factions, discontents, underminers and usurpers—dissent in plain view and in the honest light of day is all fine, but when it is done in darkness, in a nasty spirit. . . well, that is a spirit that needs to be cast out.

We regularly deal with unclean spirits such as gossip, jealousy, pridefulness, backbiting, cowardice, and unforgiving judgmentalism. We regularly need to dispel sourness, unkindness and self-righteousness, so yes, we have our demons to cast out today.

A Bunch of Uncles

The Twelve are selected, and they go back to Capernaum, where the crowd is so thick that they “could not even eat.” The line at the door seemed never-ending. And then, at the end, we have what is like a crazy, non sequitur punchline:

And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for they were saying, "He is out of his mind."

What? We know Mary was with him, and a couple of his cousins or half-brothers, so we almost have to picture that force within families that can best be described as a bunch of uncles. You follow me? Picnics, holidays, reunions—there’s nothing in nature as self-sure and self-righteous in its cause than a bunch of uncles—even 2 or 3—gathered and aligned. The line should sound quite crazy to us. CNN shows up at the house of Jesus’ extended family for an exclusive interview, parks their van at the curb and walks up toward the garage, where—let’s say four—uncles are enjoying a canned beverage with the Dodgers’ game on the radio as they tinker with an old El Camino. The reporter—equipped with hairdo, suit and microphone—walks up the driveway with a cameraman and soundman in tow, and the uncles step up to meet them. She smiles a dazzling smile and sticks the microphone forward. “Gentlemen, as members of Jesus’ family, what do you think about the crowds he’s drawing from Galilee and now all around Palestine? Sources say he’s doing miraculous healings and he’s making fair fools of the Pharisees. What do you say?”  They share a quiet look between them and then one of them speaks: “No worries, we got this—he’s out of his mind.” Without another word, the four pile into a nearby SUV and drive off, leaving the reporter and her crew alone. “There you have it: Jesus’ own family confirms what religious leaders have been saying already: this Jesus is certifiably nuts.”

There is no investigation, no question, no careful process to determine the truth of the matter—Jesus’ own “family” doesn’t believe in him. But the people—the people are nuts about him; the people can’t get enough of him.

RIGHTEOUS, RELIGIOUS

Some Not Drawn to Jesus

Back to our main question: Why are the righteous, religious faithful not drawn? Why not his own extended family? Did they trust him? No. Did they respect him? No. Was he sent to them by God for their own good? Yes.

Today, we Christians in the Church are the world’s righteous, religious faithful. While we’d like to identify with the good folk and disciples who followed him—and we usually do—it is only right that we should consider that we might have been on the wrong side back then. A right reading of the scripture demands that we consider this; for remember, all the loyal followers and closest disciples eventually abandoned him at his arrest and crucifixion.

Respect and Trust

I think Cesar Milan, the Dog Whisperer, is really amazing. Give the guy a bunch of abandoned pit bulls and in an incredibly short time, he has them at his feet, compliant and obedient. Tara called me in to the room the other day because as he was speaking, our dogs were sitting on the couch—both of them looking at the screen watching him.

His philosophy is simple: you must be sure your dogs respect you and trust you. That’s it. All dog-training is about preserving respect and trust. Owners who try too hard to be liked end up disrespected and pushed around by their dogs. Owners whose leadership is erratic or anxious fail to build trust. Now stay with me, because I’m going to say that the reason some people follow Jesus and others don’t is similar—because respect and trust play the major role in becoming disciples.

Let us be clear: there are some things we can choose and some we cannot, but we can choose whether or not we will give respect and whether or not we will give our trust to someone. We are responsible for both.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Have you ever wondered about your own mechanisms of respect? What is it in you and me that makes us choose to respect whom we respect and withhold respect from others? I’m going to suggest a few—see if any of them strike you as true for you.

Why we withhold respect:

1. We would rather rule ourselves.

This is a human basic going back to the Garden of Eden. It is pride. It is our built-in resistance to rule because we would rather lead than be led.

2. We are naturally impressed by different things.

We are each uniquely wired. What impresses you might not impress me and vice versa. One person’s hero is another person’s zero.

3. We all have Family Issues.

We do not choose our families. We are born into them and get our sense of who we are and what we like and dislike based upon our gearing—even our infancy gearing—and our feelings about leaders and authorities are shaped by our parents, siblings, and of course, a bunch of our uncles.

4. People fail to impress us.

We may expect too much of those we have admired. Meeting one’s worldly heroes can be a disappointing experience.

5. We can be hyper-critical.

Not hypocritical (though that can also be a problem for us), but we can set the bar of our expectations so high that no one can possibly clear it. We can end up withholding respect from leaders who show any shred of vulnerability or who are a tad less than perfect.

6. Someone is not part of your club or inner circle.

The Pharisees rejected Jesus in part because he was an outsider. He didn’t hobnob with the Temple elites and was completely uninterested in Jerusalem politics. Ever felt like an outsider?

In my orientation group at Princeton Theological Seminary, I was in a circle of people whose undergraduate degrees were from Yale, Harvard, Cornell, Duke and Claremont Colleges. When I said Gonzaga, the first response I heard was a laugh: “Sounds like skin disease!” Unquote.

When I was being ordained to my first call in Dallas, Texas, the committee that was lording over me asked me why I hadn’t given Austin Theological Seminary a closer look over Princeton.

The righteous, religious faithful did not respect Jesus for these reasons and more. They would rather be lost than to allow him to lead. And here’s the key point: they chose to withhold their respect.

TRUST

Trust works the same as respect. We can choose to give it or withhold it, voluntarily. Belief is more complicated, for we can’t simply choose to believe something. We believe in something or we don’t because of processes in our brains and hearts that yield either conviction or doubt. I can’t choose to believe in UFOs—there is nothing to tip that scale for me from doubt to conviction. But unlike belief, trust and respect are voluntary and chosen.

1. We choose to give or withhold trust—because we can.

It’s just a fact. Feelings aside, we can give our trust functionally even if our hearts are not in it. We all give a certain kind of trust to whomever will be the next president of the United States. Maybe not much, but as loyal  citizens, we will give a measure of respect and trust to the office, if not the person.

2. We judge others’ trustworthiness.

We have “trust judgment” indicators in our hearts and minds. Some of us trust too easily; others are deeply distrusting. Inside, we are all somewhat judgmental. We have an inner yardstick by which we measure people and say, “I trust him, I don’t trust him.” We give trust at a risk. People who have been treated well tend to be very trusting; people who have been hurt or burned tend to withhold trust.

We may play games with people, holding up hoops in our minds for them to jump through. If they jump, I’ll trust; if not, I will withhold trust. The reality is that our indicators—those inner rulers—are unreliable even though we feel otherwise.

In the big picture, the people we trust—those in our group, club or families—are no more reliable than the outsiders. As a pastor, I don’t think I’ve spent ten minutes listening to someone complain about a stranger, but family? Friends? Trusted colleagues? That’s 99.9%.

Remember, in our story, it is unclean spirits who speak the truth about who Jesus is, not the righteous, religious, faithful! How right would we be to trust our uncles or religious leaders in the case of our text?

TRUSTING, RESPECTING GOD

When it comes to our relationship with God, we respect and trust on faith. You might say our faith is in fact a matter of voluntarily giving our trust and respect to God even though he is unseen.

We give God our respect by our worship and by acknowledging his Word as our spiritual authority. Doubts of all kinds are at constant work in our hearts and minds, but we choose to trust in him above all else. Above our feelings, our so-called “better judgment,” and above our own sight and wisdom—we give God all respect.

We also give God all our trust. This is why the second question of membership is so crucial. We say, “Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior,” but we must ask: “Do you trust in him?” That means that you and I do indeed choose—voluntarily—to give Jesus trust through thick and thin, despite what our eyes, minds and hearts would say otherwise.

Our faith is a matter of not withholding trust, not withholding respect, from God.

OUR WITNESS

Our trust and respect for God separates us from religion or righteousness. Bono of U2 has a great quote: He says “Religion is what is left once the Spirit has left the building.” Our faith, brothers and sisters, is not about religion or righteousness—it is about Christ and Christ alone! Through Christ alone God is known and revealed.

When we trust and respect God, it show in our other relationships as well:

If we trust in God, we are less worried about controlling outcomes ourselves. This means we become less anxious and risk-averse. We become more faithful—and feel comfortable leaving room for God to act in our lives and future destinies.

When we give God all respect, we come to see him in our world. It becomes much easier to see his image in people we formerly distrusted or disrespected. It becomes easier to give trust and respect to others. It becomes easier to forgive, for it is easier to see God at work even in our “enemies.”

Give your respect to God and to others. Spend it. You’re not going to run out!

Trust God—spend all your trust on him—and trusting others will be your joy.   


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