There are 5 occasions in Scripture where Jesus talks to his mother or refers to her. The first incident is in Luke 2 when Jesus is 12 years old and his parents take him to Jerusalem and then leave him behind while they go back home. They assume he is in their traveling party but they do not check. And then they blame him for it. They come back and find him in the temple where Mary says to him “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” Significantly, Jesus – even as a 12-year-old - does not apologize. He does not beg forgiveness. He does not vow to do better next time. Instead he turns the charge back on her and Joseph and says, “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?”
I feel bad for Mary. I can’t imagine how awful it would be to be the parent of an utterly sinless child. The Bible insists repeatedly that Jesus never sinned. St. Paul said he knew no sin. St. Peter said he committed no sin. St. John said in him was no sin. The writer of the Book of Hebrews says he was tempted as we are, but was without sin. Try to imagine raising a sinless child. It would mean that every time you disagreed with him, every time you tried to take him to task, he would regard himself as being in the right and you in the wrong. In inevitable areas of conflict and tension it would always be you who needed to say “I’m sorry.” You were the sinner – he was holy. And if he ever spoke words that you found hurtful, well, they were just hurtful and he never took them back.
We who have children want to raise good children. But being flawed human beings ourselves, I think that raising a perfectly holy child would at times be a nightmare. Because whether that child openly rebuked us or not, he would know, and we would know that he knew, that we ourselves were never measuring up to the standard that he followed perfectly. So I believe that this snapshot of an incident that we have in Luke 2 was reflective of a broad pattern, a daily pattern, that characterized life within the holy family. And I imagine that it plagued poor Mary as she, a sinner like the rest of us, tried to raise the sinless Son of God. Jesus was always right. And he knew it. And if he and his mother ever disagreed, she was wrong and needed to repent.
The next interaction with Mary occurs at a wedding feast in John 2. The hosts of the reception run out of wine, and she comes to him and tells him about it with clear expectation that he solve the problem. But Jesus responds, “Woman, why do you involve me? My time has not yet come.” “Woman”? He called his mother “Woman”? It’s not the only time he does this. If we skip ahead to the 5th occasion where Jesus has interaction with his mother, it is when he was hanging on the cross, dying, and he entrusted her to the care of his disciple John. Even there he said, “Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.”
How could Jesus address his own mother as “Woman”? Every Bible scholar for centuries it seems has said - rightly so - that the term we translate “woman” was not an insult in their language as it would be in English. It was not rude or insulting, but it was formal. It was distant. It was respectful but not intimate - roughly comparable in English to the word “Ma’am.” So Jesus is saying on these two occasions, “Ma’am, why do you involve me?” and “Ma’am, behold your son.”
When Jesus was only a month old a Spirit-filled righteous man named Simeon prophesied to Mary saying, “A sword will pierce your soul.” And of course that probably had primary reference to the fact that she would see her son tortured to death. But I also imagine that a sword pierced Mary’s soul every time Jesus called her “Ma’am.” “Oh, there he goes again. ‘Ma’am’! Couldn’t he at least call me ‘Mom’?”
With regard to the implied request that she makes of him at the wedding feast that he do something about the wine, it is worth noting that when Jesus talked with his disciples, he emphasized that their requests, made in the right spirit and according to the will of God, would be heard and answered. For example, “If you remain in me, and my words remain in you, you will ask what you will, and it will be given to you.” The conditions were important: you had to be a disciple, remaining in Christ, and one in whose soul the words of Jesus had taken root. In that case, yes, ask what you will. But Jesus was clearly not pleased with every request that came his way. For example, he put off the request of James and John to have the top two positions in his administration. And one time when a man said to Jesus, “Tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me” Jesus rebuked that request and went on to preach a little sermon on greed. So, not every request delighted Jesus. And in the one instance we have recorded where his mother made a veiled request of him, he seemed displeased.
When she said, “They’ve run out of wine,” Jesus did not say, “Oh bless you mom, you did exactly the right thing! You didn’t try to handle this yourself, you brought it me, which is what you ought to do in these circumstances. Well done!” No. However we interpret Jesus’ curious response, there is no mistaking the fact that he considered this a flawed request, and he granted it not out of joy but as a concession, as God so often does in Scripture when he condescends to human frailty and grants certain things because of the hardness of our hearts.
Occasions 3 and 4 where Jesus refers to his mother will take your breath away if you let the texts speak plainly and feel their full force. There is an instance recorded in Mark 3 and Matthew 12 where Jesus’ mother and brothers go looking for him in order to lay hold of him and bring him home. Mark 3:20-21 says, Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that he and his disciples were not even able to eat. When his family heard about this, they went to take charge of him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.” Go down to verses 31-35 and you will see what happened. It says: Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call him. A crowd was sitting around him, and they told him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.” “Who are my mother and my brothers?” he asked. Then he looked at those seated in a circle around him and said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”
Through my more than 4 decades of reading through the Scriptures and hearing them expounded upon I believe I would have read through this text many many times without really having paid close attention to what was actually being said. Because if you had asked me years ago how I understood the family dynamics of this situation, I probably would have said something like this: “This was clearly engineered by Jesus’ brothers.” They were not believers in Jesus at the time – John 7:5 says so explicitly. It says that not even his own brothers believed in him, and in that chapter they taunt him, make fun of him and suggest he should go to Jerusalem where they know people are waiting to kill him. At least 2 of Jesus brothers, James and Jude, eventually came around, and came to know that their brother was indeed the Messiah. But that is getting ahead of our story. During Jesus’ time of ministry with his disciples, his biological brothers were not followers of his and they were even hostile to him like Joseph’s brothers in the Old Testament. That is, Joseph the son of Jacob. His brothers hated him so much they talked about killing him and instead sold him into slavery.
So, I would have assumed years ago that it was Jesus’ brothers who said, “Our older brother has flipped his lid – he thinks he’s the Messiah or something. We better go and do an intervention, drag him away from his groupies, bring him home, do a de-programming, and talk some sense into him, teach him his place and take up his proper role in the family carpentry business.” And then Mary went along with them, but of course she was of a different mindset. She did not agree with them. No, she must have been tormented in her righteous soul in having to be in the same vicinity as his unbelieving brothers. I think that’s how I would have understood this text if had you asked me.
But the text itself gives you zero justification for making that distinction between Mary and her other sons. The text does the opposite. It groups them together, tightly, and it does so 5 times. It says, “his mother and brothers arrived.” Then people tell Jesus, “Your mother and brothers are outside”. Then Jesus says, “Who are my mother and brothers?” He points to his disciples and says, “Here are my mother and brothers.” And then he says, “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.”
Think about that. If Mary at this time in her life had been doing God’s will, and had been a lone, faithful, troubled holdout against Jesus’ brothers’ contempt and pride and feelings of superiority, then wouldn’t Jesus have said, “My mother and brothers are here? Keep my brothers outside and let my mother through! She does the will of God. She is not only my biological mother but my spiritual mother as well. My soul rejoices to see her face!” That’s not what he says. Instead he says, “My brothers are the ones who are seated around me. My mother (or mothers) are the women here who are listening to me and doing the will of God.” Mary and Jesus’ brothers were left outside while Jesus made that point.
I wonder how Mary felt when Jesus’ cold words were reported back to her. “Ma’am, uhh, he says his mother and brothers are there with him already.”
There is one more reference that Jesus makes to his mother Mary, and it is just as chilling. Luke 11:27-28. Jesus has been teaching, and a woman in the crowd is pleased with what she has heard and pronounces a blessing on his mother. It says, As Jesus was saying these things, a woman in the crowd called out, “Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you.” He replied, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it.”
The word “rather” in that sentence is not a mistranslation. The Greek term has adversative force. It is a correction, a push-back to what that woman in the crowd had just said. It is not the term you would expect if Jesus were responding with a warm smile, “Oh yes, thank you - blessed indeed is my mother among women, and blessed is the fruit of her womb – Me. But let me add here, blessed in addition are those who, just like her, hear the word of God and obey it.” That is not what is being said, it is not a responsible exegesis of the text. What Jesus says here is of a piece with what he had said earlier when Mary came to rip him away from his disciples and “bring him home where he belonged.” His real mother, he said at that time, was any woman who did the will of God. And now the truly blessed woman, he says, was - well, not her so much, not now, anyway - but rather any woman who listened to the word of God and did it.
Imagine the dagger going through the heart of poor Mary if she caught wind of those words. More than 30 years earlier the angel Gabriel had told her that she was highly favored of God. Her relative Elizabeth told her twice that she was blessed. And she herself said, “From now on all generations will call me blessed.” (Luke 1:48). And she was right, we have called her blessed.
But in her own lifetime when somebody tried to bless her, Jesus stepped on it and provided a correction, a contrary statement in order to tell us who was really blessed.
Mary, did you drift? Mary, did you stumble? Mary did you take a step back from that remarkable devotion of your youth, your maiden youth, when as a young pure virgin faced with the destruction of your reputation, a teen pregnancy where even your own fiancé would not believe at first that you had been faithful to him, and he initially decided he was done with you forever – when you faced that galling prospect, remember what you said? You said, “I am the servant of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” And then, “My soul magnifies the Lord. My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” Do you remember that, Mary?
I’m afraid an awful lot can happen between the ages of, let’s say, 15 and 50. Sincere devotion can give way to dull depravity. Humility can give way to pride. I have witnessed it personally, and if you’re old like me, and have been a Christian for decades, you have witnessed it too. Much can change over the course of years when the sweet dependence on God and the nobility of one’s youth becomes the drifting, self-indulging, self-pitying, God-forgetfulness of one’s middle age.
There are many examples in Scripture of great souls who started well, but at some point they veered off course. Early in their lives it was evident that the favor of God was upon them, and they even experienced astonishing miracles. They demonstrated great faith in God and courage in the midst of overwhelming opposition. In Judges chapter 7, for example, Gideon is a mighty warrior before the Lord, who defeats a great army with just 300 men and God. But in chapter 8, he and his family succumb to idolatry and worship a garment made of gold.
Solomon, the wisest man ever, as young man bowed before the Lord and humbly asked only for wisdom to guide the people of Israel. “Well done Solomon! We rejoice to see that your father David has such a worthy successor!” But later, Solomon became an ungrateful self-indulgent moron as he worshiped the false gods of his pagan wives.
Hezekiah in his 30s was one of the godliest, most exemplary kings that Israel/Judah ever had. But he went seriously off-track in the last 15 years of his life. 2 Chronicles 32:25 says, “Hezekiah’s heart was proud and he did not respond to the kindness shown him; therefore the Lord’s wrath was on him and on Judah and Jerusalem.”
Tell me, what can be done for such people? What can be done for a backslider, a moral drifter? What is the kindest, best, most loving, most effective thing that can be done for an individual whose latter drifting betrays a former devotion?
At least part of the answer will be to do for that individual just what Jesus did to his own mom. And that will sometimes involve the appearance of mean-spiritedness because it will not shy away from earnest confrontation and the withholding of fellowship so long as the rebellion continues. Please understand, I am not talking about cold-heartedness toward the unbelieving and the unconverted, but rather toward fallen saints. To them it must be made clear – as graciously as possible, as sternly as necessary - that they have gone far off course and must turn back while there is time.
Scriptural examples abound. Nathan tells King David a story about a wicked man. David is enraged and calls for the man’s execution. And Nathan says, “You are the man.”
Good King Hezekiah fell so grievously that the prophet Isaiah said to him, “Jerusalem and the temple will some day be ransacked because of what you have done.”
Peter, St. Peter, foremost among the disciples, tried to get in the way of Jesus’ appointment with the cross – and Jesus went as far as to call him the devil. He said to him, “Get behind me, Satan. You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of men.” (Matthew 16:23). And even after that, Peter was not done trying to block Jesus’ road to the cross. On the night before the crucifixion, Peter drew a sword in violence, and Jesus again rebuked him, saying “Put your sword away! It will be death of you!”
After that, Peter was perfectly reformed, right? No. Years later, when he succumbed – we hope only briefly – to gospel-denying racism, his colleague, the Apostle Paul said, “I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned.” (Galatians 2:11).
Please do not misunderstand me. King David, King Hezekiah, St. Peter, and Mary the mother of Jesus were not damned souls. But each one of them, at some point, was a terribly lost sheep. So lost that it was necessary for them to be confronted – brutally, in dead earnestness, without a hint of sarcasm or joking around – they had to be confronted with terrible words like these:
You deserve to die.
Others will suffer immeasurably because of you.
You’re the devil. You stand condemned.
Ma’am, you do not now have a place with my family, these blessed ones who do the will of God.
Why was Jesus so mean to his mom? For the same reason he will be mean to you and me when we stray off the path. He will be as mean as hell to save us from hell. If he loves you, he will not let you get away with ongoing rebellion. In fact it is a probable sign of your damnation if he does let you get away with it. But his loved ones, the sheep for whom he died, are the ones who are made to feel the sting his rebuke, the conviction of his Spirit, the grim bitterness of a defiled conscience, the painful shock of being excluded, for a time, from family fellowship.
If Jesus loves you, then when you defy the will of God, I believe that he will do for you no less than what he did for his own mother. The Bible says, “A bruised reed he will not break, a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.” And it also says that he prunes the vines. He cuts them lest they be unfruitful and ultimately useless. He disciplines those he loves.
If King David and King Hezekiah and St. Peter and Jesus’ own mother were not exempt from such harsh treatment – are you and I? I don’t want to be exempt from it because that would mean I was damned. What looks like meanness on the part of Jesus to his mother is in fact love and restoration and salvation. It is a loving shepherd going after his lost sheep and putting a strong shepherd’s crook around his rebellious sheep’s neck to drag it back. And do you know what? It worked. It worked. How do I know?
While most of the disciples had fled for their lives when Jesus was arrested, put on trial and crucified, guess who was still there at the foot of the cross, close enough to be within earshot of his groans and his words of grace? Mary was there. A heart full of daggers, of course, but she was there. And then a few weeks later, after the resurrection, we read in Acts 1:14 that the disciples “all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus”. She is still there. Mary, we can now assume, was back on track, doing the will of God and in company with the disciples rather than excluded from them. That is the last time that Mary is mentioned explicitly in the Scriptures. But a little deductive work suggests that 30 years later she’s still there. By now she’s 75, 80 years old. If you read the Gospel of Luke, written around that time – it becomes clear that Luke interviewed her, and he picked up details that nobody else got, including several references to Mary’s internal, unexpressed state of mind, and private dialogue that could only have come from Mary herself. She is still there. And through Mary, Luke was able to inform us of many of the excellencies of Jesus Christ, Mary’s God and ours.
It is my belief that if Jesus had spoken to her at that point, his tone would have been different, and he might even have called her “Mom.” In the same way, we who have been stabbed through the heart and cut in pieces by his rightful rebuke, and who come to the cross in agonizing grief knowing that our sin caused his death - we nonetheless cherish a fond hope beyond hope that someday, in his resurrected glory, by his grace, he will kindly say to us, “My child.” Let us pray.
Lord God if this message should come to any who have strayed, then, by your mercy, pierce their souls with the dagger of your Word. And though my words may not persuade, may your Holy Spirit convict, and cause those who have turned away to know that their only hope lies in bowing the knee to Him whose stern rebuke has stripped all other hopes away. Thank you for that severe mercy by which you make known to us our deadly rebellion and its consequences, and for the tender mercy by which your Holy Son Jesus took that rebellion upon himself and paid its debt. Jesus, you are King, Lord, Savior, and our only hope. Amen.
