More than twenty years ago, I was reading Scott Peck’s A World Waiting to Be Born.[1] At the time, I saw myself as a good Christian husband. I was trying to be a good dad to two teenage sons. Our pastor’s favorite sermon subject? The family, of course. The organization, Focus on the Family, would regularly mail a long letter to our home from its president Dr. Dobson. His constant appeal was for families to be strongly Christian.
Nothing was more important to me than being a good family man.
Then I read these words from M. Scott Peck:
… Jesus took pains to make it clear that he was no great family man. He announced that he came not to bring peace, but a sword, that dealing with him would set children against their parents and brothers and sisters against each other [Mat 10:34–35]. When a disciple asked for a delay in order that he might attend his father’s funeral, Jesus coldly told him, let the dead bury their dead [Mat 8:22]. Jesus repeatedly tried to make it clear that one’s primary calling is to God, not one’s family . . . He needed to do this because he was fighting against the idolatry of family of his day. [1]
To this day, I remember the line: Jesus was no great family man. When we look at some passages of Scripture relating to family and kinship, examining them in the light of honor, shame, and the gospel, we can see some Christ-exalting truths.
Who belongs to Jesus’ family?
Consider Mark 3:31–35.
And his mother and his brothers came, and standing outside they sent to him and called him. And a crowd was sitting around him, and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers are outside, seeking you.” And he answered them, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking about at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.”
Rather shockingly, Jesus is redefining family for the Jews, the people of God. Jerome Neyrey calls it a “new index of honor.”[2] No longer is it satisfactory to think that being ethnically Jewish equates with being a part of God’s family. Jesus narrows the criteria for membership in God’s family considerably. Pointing to his disciples, Jesus says, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.” Doing the will of God—obedience!—became the deciding criteria; this is the narrowing dynamic.
But Jesus expands the concept of God’s family as well. Being a member of God’s family and possessing the corresponding honor of being related to Jesus is now available to anyone and everyone; indeed, it is available to “whoever does the will of my Father in heaven.” This “new index of honor”—this new way of defining who was an “insider”—deeply challenged the status quo understanding of family.
Jesus turned upside-down the traditional understanding of the people of God, family, and father. Jesus is not doing away with honor codes, he is redefining them. Jesus is democratizing honor. The greatest honor of all—honor before Creator God—is now available to all people who put their trust in Jesus the King, who are willing to be least in his kingdom by serving rather than being served (Mark 9:35; 10:45).
Paul relativizes his Jewish family honor
Paul makes a deeply personal statement about his own social worth and honor in Philippians 3:4–10. It is based on his Jewish and ethnic family honor—both ascribed and achieved honor. Paul boasts about his family honor and social capital in order to set up a contrast.
… If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.
Philippians 3:4–6
Then comes the contrast in an altogether startling claim. All this family honor, all this ethnic status, all this social capital—is loss, worthless, like dung and garbage, odorous—in comparison “to the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus Christ my Lord” (Phil 3:8)
Paul exaggerates his point to relativize the honor that comes from his Jewish kinship group. It is risky. Paul may alienate members of his extended family. He might incur the wrath of his tribal peers and kinship group. What would his Jewish relatives think when he says all this family honor is as worthless as “dung” (Phil 3:8, KJV). Paul can only say this because a higher, greater, more satisfying and eternal honor has been revealed to him. It is the honor of knowing and serving the Messiah-King, Lord of the universe, Jesus Christ.
Paul has a new source of honor: Christ himself.
Relativizing family honor is good for us
The benefits of relativizing family honor are manifold. Consider the stranglehold of family secrets. There is untold suffering from sexual abuse swept under the rug in the name of ‘keeping up the family name.’ When the family is idolized, family sins of every stripe are kept in the dark, and all the members in the family system, young and old and in between can be kept in bondage. Consider honor-based violence in the family. We see it in The Godfather—blood vendettas of the Italian mafia. Or the multi-generational killing feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys. What about killing to preserve the honor of the clan among various nations, tribes, and cultures—so-called honor killings?
Clearly: Family-based honor needs to be relativized—and the gospel of Jesus Christ offers this to us.
A little nuance and a summary
We have observed how both Jesus and Paul relativize family honor. But it is good to note that Jesus does not only relativize the family, he also affirms the family and marriage in various ways (e.g., Mat 5:32; Mat 19:19; John 2:1–12). Likewise, Paul does not only relativize his Hebrew family identity; he also valorizes his Jewish family and nation of Israel (Rom 9:1–5; Gal 4:21–31; Eph 2:11–12). Plus, he provides remarkable teachings to affirm the sanctity of marriage and family (Eph 5:20–33; 6:1–4; Col 3:18–21) all under the banner, Jesus Christ is Lord.
Summary: We were made in the image of God. We retain a longing for glory despite the corruption of sin and the Fall. God offers to cover our sin-and-shame and restore our honor through salvation in Jesus the Christ. From his exalted authority as the once-suffering-but-now-resurrected King, Jesus forgives our sin and raises us up in union with him. We are adopted into his family (Eph 1:5; Rom 8:15), complete with an inheritance (Eph 1:14) in a community that’s called a royal priesthood (1 Pet 2:9). This is our new, eternal source of honor, embedded in Christ. The relational honor of knowing Christ and being part of his family is beyond compare. It is so magnificent that all other honors, including family-based honor, fade in significance. This is how the gospel relativizes family-based honor.
FOOTNOTES
1. M. Scott Peck, A World Waiting to be Born: Civility Rediscovered (New York: Random House, 1993), 174.
2. Jerome Neyrey writes: “‘Who is my mother and who are my brothers?’ The question reveals a crisis within Jesus’ kin group. In such a situation, families tend to paper over their internal problems and thus keep up appearances before others. But here Jesus exacerbates the problem between himself and his family, which threatens their public reputation. Resorting to a comparison, he establishes a non-kinship criteria for family membership. ‘Whoever does the will of my father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother’ (Mat 12:50). He identifies with a ‘family’ but not with the empirical group standing outside; he has a ‘Father’ to whom he is duty bound to show loyalty, the kind of loyalty that is the stuff of later parables (Mat 21:28–31, 37). According to this new index of honor he turns away from the blood relatives standing outside and toward the disciples inside: ‘And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.”’” Honor And Shame in the Gospel of Matthew, (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), 54.
