Jesus
Today. . .
ON BEING KIN TO JESUS
Whoever
shall do the will of My Father who is in heaven, he is My
brother and sister and mother. - Matt. 12:50
It
is a remarkable promise: that we are most kin to Jesus in doing
the Father’s will! Even more than blood kin.
One of
the most interesting persons Ouida and I ever knew was a mentally
disturbed brother who supposed he was Jesus. Years ago I wrote about
him in this journal, a sympathetic treatment, for I always had
positive feelings toward him. He was a grandson of Decima Campbell
Barclay, the tenth child of Alexander Campbell. Julian Barclay was a
majestic looking man, standing well over six feet and weighing far
more than 200 pounds. His long beard and rough clothing made him
something of a sight in Bethany when we went there to teach two
decades ago.
Julian
set me to thinking of how it must feel to think of yourself as Jesus.
Can you conjure yourself into such a mood? The poor brother would sit
in our livingroom (as on one occasion) and open his palms to us,
explaining that sometimes the nail marks would show, and would talk
to us as if he were the Lord himself, all in perfect sincerity of
course. While he seemed harmless, the president of the college warned
the students not to take chances, for he was indeed a very ill man.
We were thankful that he did not have to be institutionalized.
Unmarried and free, he wandered here and there, mostly around
Bethany, always peacefully and always Christlike.
Some
years back we received word that dear Julian died on a bus while on a
farm-labor circuit, and it was sometime before they could identify
him. They brought him back to Bethany and buried him near his great
grandfather, Alexander Campbell. It all impressed me as very ironic.
But there was a tradition of insanity in the Campbell clan, Alex’s
own brother being suspect, a doctor who tampered with the dead after
they were buried, or so it was rumored. It is also rumored that when
the brother died, Alex buried him in an unknown, unmarked grave, lest
his enemies take vengeance. But enough of that kind of thing.
It
must be something else to think you are Jesus, insane or not. After
all, what is insanity? Ouida was always impressed with Julian’s
brilliance, and one might not notice, ordinarily, that anything was
wrong. He could hold his own with any of the professors around and on
any subject --- all from reading and thinking! And yet the man was
crazy, or so they said. At Christmas time each year when the college
choir sang the great Hallelujah Chorus we would all stand --- in
honor of the Christ who lives, but up in the balcony sat Julian
Barclay, off to himself, enjoying the honor! He would send all of us
Christmas cards, signed by the Lord himself!
The
redeeming feature to this fantastic story is that Julian, who lived
as a recluse on a nearby hill, was like Christ --- gentle,
self-effacing, humble, forgiving, nonviolent. When some of the
college boys had some fun at his expense, hurling him to the ground
and relieving him of his beard, he responded with loving forbearance,
when he could have (and should have!) given them all the whipping
they deserved. I would sometimes say to Ouida, There is one
real Christian in this village and he’s crazy! Shades of
Dostoevski’s village idiot in The Idiot.
I must
concede utter failure in supposing myself to be Jesus, and I do
little better in imagining myself in his situation before the
Sanhedrin or at Gethsemane, or even in a teaching situation alongside
the sea of Galilee. This must be because there is no way for us to
fathom infinite suffering and injustice, or a person who is infinity
itself. There is no way for mortal man to comprehend Jesus, and one
would have to be beside himself to presume he has done so.
That
makes the promise of kinship with him all the more remarkable. Closer
than a brother or sister, a blood-kin sibling! Or closer than a
mother, the one who gave him birth! We are closer to Jesus than that,
if we do the will of the heavenly Father.
What
do you suppose Jesus meant, precisely, by that condition?
Kinship that is closer than a brother, sister, or mother is based
upon obedience to God, implicit and exact obedience, we may presume,
according to one’s understanding. That is the condition. Since
Jesus gives no specifics, not in this context at least, we may
conclude that he refers to general obedience. This does not
mean, of course, that we obey the Father in a general kind of way,
allowing only certain pet sins into our lives. Rather it means that
we are committed to Him, body, soul and spirit, and are resolved to
obey Him in all things, limited only by knowledge and frailty.
Out
of weakness we will fall short of perfect obedience; out of ignorance
that is unwillful (since an insatiable desire to know is part of
obedience ignorance will never be willful) we will fail to do all
that we should. So, doing the Father’s will is for one to
lovingly and eagerly do all that he knows God wants Him to do. This
would be general obedience, which means that there may be some
particulars within the Father’s will that one has not yet
learned, but that he is obedient insofar as he understands.
Jesus
is really talking about sincerity before the Father, the real meaning
of sincerity. Sincerity seeks God, hungering and thirsting for
light and more light. There may yet be darkness in his life, but he
accepts the light as it breaks into his life.
The
Lord is saying that this is the person that is really kin to
him, closer than any fleshly relationship. This is far different from
conforming to some church’s check-list of “things to do”
in obeying. It means to long for God as the hart pants for the water
brook or like a babe hungers for milk. One may be a weak person and
yet obedient in the sense Jesus is talking about, for he wants
righteousness. We “do the Father’s will” more
by what we really are and what we want to be more than by our
goodness. One does not have to be an expert musician to love music or
an artist to appreciate art, and so one might be very inexpert about
“virtue” and “goodness” and yet be what Jesus
is talking about.
This is
why some prostitutes were closer to Jesus than some Pharisees, with
all their expertise. It is reassuring that we do not have to be
righteous to be blessed, but to hunger and thirst for it. When Jesus
identified those closest to him by saying “Here are my mother
and my brothers,” he pointed to his disciples. But they were
not the reverend clergy of his day, but men from the common walks of
life who were not “righteous” except in the sense that
they were being made new by the new dimension in their lives.
This
shows us that spiritual kinship comes before the physical, however
honored the physical may be. Perhaps this is what Jesus was teaching
when he told one of his disciples who wished to turn back and bury
his father: “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their dead”
(Matt. 8:22).
Again
Jesus points to this truth in Matt. 10:37-39: “Anyone who
prefers father or mother to me is not worthy of me. Anyone who
prefers son or daughter to me is not worthy of me. Anyone who does
not take his cross and follow in my footsteps is not worthy of me.
Anyone who finds his life will lose it; anyone who loses his life for
my sake will find it.”
As
believers we are kin to our Lord, his very closest kin, and we
are to prefer that relationship to all others. Following in his steps
must mean that we are to do the will of the Father as he did, and in
doing this we must be willing to suffer in this world as he did. If
we are out to “find ourselves” in this world, which must
refer to an ego-centered life of fame, fortune, and pleasure, then we
lose ourselves. But if we are in this world to “lose
ourselves,” which refers to doing the will of the Father,
wherever that may lead us, then we find ourselves. The glorious
contradiction: we find ourselves by losing ourselves. The
world is not prepared to understand this great truth, and too few
believers are willing to accept it as their rule of life.
But when we do accept it and thus make God’s will paramount in our lives, obeying Him lovingly and without reservation, we become closer to Jesus than a brother or sister or even a mother. That promise should make all the difference in the world. --- the Editor