Jesus the Plunderer
The gospel of Mark moves fast, from place to place and encounter to encounter. This week’s scripture takes place immediately after Jesus identifies his twelve disciples, and finds him returning home, but not by himself. He’s been out and about healing, casting out unclean spirits, and speaking to many people. Clearly he’s made an impact through his ministry, because there’s such a crowd of people at his house that nobody can eat. Some came from “smaller Judean towns and villages” to see him, but other folks have traveled from Jerusalem, the “spiritual base of the upper echelon of the Jewish religious leaders.” (Lettsome, loc. 40455)
Jesus must have continued speaking to them, because his family comes to restrain him after hearing the crowd. Are they worried about his image? Do they just want to be sure he can fit in a meal? His family appears at the beginning of the passage, and again at the end.
In between, some in the crowd accuse him of being out of his mind, and of conspiring with the ruler of the demons he’s been casting out. What must he have been saying to be subject to such accusations? Prior to this passage, there is little detail about what he’s been teaching. We do know it’s been getting attention, though, from the sick, from sinners, from tax collectors, from religious scholars, and even from demons.
Some claim he is in league with Beelzebul (not to be confused with Beelzebub, which has a different meaning). Beelzebul likely meant something like “lord of the house” and referred to “an old Canaanite deity” according to Bible scholar William Placher. (Placher, 61) Jesus takes their assertions as an opportunity to make a statement about the kingdom of Satan while verbally sparring with his accusers. “How can Satan cast out Satan?” (And, it’s implied, why would Satan want that?) “If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.” Then he mentions the challenge associated with plundering a strong man’s house…
Who does that man represent in this parable, and what is being plundered? Jesus is referring again to Satan, and in doing so “affirms the reality of Satan’s power in the present, power that Jesus, the stronger man, confronts and betters in his exorcisms.” Bible scholar Warren Carter says this indicates that “the decline of Satan’s power is underway.” (Carter, 192) But it “has not yet been destroyed and will not be destroyed from within.” (Carter, 192)
Placher explains it thus:
The good news here is that, if Jesus can rescue property from Satan, then Satan must be already tied up and defeated. Oddly, it is Satan who is the householder in this parable, and Jesus who is the thief who ties him up so that he can make off with his belongings. Sinners do in a sense belong to Satan. The Jesus who rescues sinners is not a defender of the status quo but one who challenges it, who breaks the laws of property. (Placher, 61)
Jesus once again promises forgiveness, perhaps even to those who would not have expected it, but then names a sin for which one won’t be forgiven: blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. There is debate among scholars as to what comprises such an “eternal sin.” Carter suggests it is “the inability to recognize the Spirit as the power at work through Jesus.” (Carter, 193) Was Jesus offering a warning specifically to those challenging him in that time and place? Is there some lesson we can take from that statement? I hesitate to jump to a conclusion, other than to suggest there’s nothing outside God’s power to forgive.
I suspect we’ve all had the experience of living in what could be considered a “divided house.” Certainly, the divisions can run so deep as to threaten its foundation. Sometimes the houses divided are actual households. Sometimes they are communities. Sometimes they are countries. In recent years, we’ve seen divisions over things like the seriousness of COVID and whether people should wear masks to prevent infection. Some of you might have felt so passionately about that issue that the absence of a mask on another person caused a visceral reaction. Now that the worst days of the pandemic have passed, the mask controversy is no longer at the forefront of our minds, but it illustrates how an issue that seems simple can become politicized and divisive.
Masks were inexpensive and freely available, and wearing them kept people from getting sick and dying. Some in power chose to cast doubt on those factors, though, and politicized the issue. They held the truth in bondage in order to build political capital.
Another issue that has been politicized is the climate emergency. Although there are complicated aspects to it, methods of mitigation are readily available. Adopting sustainable practices, going all-in on solar and wind energy, electrification, and ending the burning of fossil fuels will reduce the suffering of billions of people and save untold lives. But there are a lot of powerful people who profit financially if we stay on our current course. They spend a lot of money funding the political campaigns of our elected officials, and as a result you sometimes see those officials position climate-friendly solutions as an infringement on freedom, or as somehow less effective than the dated, harmful practices they replace. Again the truth is held in bondage by the strong, and many are immersed in the disinformation that ultimately does them harm.
A related debate that leaves me perplexed involves electric car adoption. For many Americans, EVs make a lot of sense. They’re much cheaper to fuel than gas-powered cars, require less maintenance, and are more reliable. Provided someone has a garage or someplace else to plug it in, an EV will save them a great deal of money on vehicle costs. And the environmental impact — even when the production of all components is taken into account — is far less than a gas-powered car’s. EV adoption even lowers the cost of gasoline by reducing demand.
Yet there’s a lot of fear, uncertainty, and doubt about EVs. Why? Because their adoption means less money for some. Car dealers know that more reliable cars means fewer visits to their service departments. Gas station owners fear a reduction in customers. And the fossil fuel companies want to continue to reap record profits, even though their practices guarantee harm for future generations.
You can probably think of other issues where the greater good is threatened by disinformation. Many suffer due to a lack of health care. We could follow the path of most developed nations and provide it to all of our citizens, but that would threaten the lucrative health insurance industry. We could re-adopt the COVID-era practice of providing free school lunches to students so they are guaranteed at least one decent meal each day, but legislators eager to minimize education costs find that unpalatable. The list goes on, as does the lineup of those who try to politicize and complicate the basic morality of these issues. Like those who saw the words of Jesus as a threat to their influence, some of the “strong men” among us will offer absurdity in the face of truth.
Like us in our time, Jesus was also surrounded by challenges, and they did not disappear despite the victory he promised. Jesus acknowledged the strength possessed by Satan, but the unconventional strength he offered would overcome that power and bring about a new kin-dom. And those who would be a part of that kin-dom weren’t necessarily those one would expect.
For instance, you’d think his family would support him in his ministry, but it appears that — at least at this point — they weren’t yet on board. They tried to restrain him at the beginning of the passage. By its end, in front of his mother and brothers, he almost seems to question the bonds of family, saying in their presence, “Who are my mother and my brothers? . . . Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.”
Placher’s reaction is similar to mine. He says that “Jesus’ response to his family seems brutal. Notice that they are outside, and he does not even go out to speak to them. He simply asserts that those who do the will of God are his only true family. Particularly in a culture that emphasized the importance of the family as much as traditional Judaism did, this would have been a shocking remark. Jesus is here no defender of traditional family values.” (Placher, 64) Carter expresses a similar thought, writing that “The family members stand outside. This positioning spatially reflects their misunderstanding of and distance from Jesus whom they think ‘stands outside’ . . . himself as a madman and not as the stronger one commissioned by God.” (Carter, 194)
Keep in mind, though, that Mark wrote his gospel decades after these events. Thus, his writing might incorporate the reality of what it meant to be a follower of Jesus later in the First Century. With that in mind, Placher writes that “Early Christians often faced difficulties with their families when they joined the church; Mark may be offering the comforting thought that even Jesus had to struggle with his family. . . . Mark here clearly implies that there are causes for which it is worth turning against your family. It was a decision early Christians often had to make.” (Placher, 60)
With time, the family members of Jesus did become part of his ministry. We read later in the gospels that his mother was close by even at his death, and the writings of his brothers James and Jude appear in the New Testament. Jesus was making a statement about those who would be his followers in a greater sense, though. One thing that stands out is his inclusion of sisters among those who do the will of God. In doing so, as Carter writes, “Since this mandate applies to all followers, the new household is marked by equality and solidarity. . . . The passage’s implicit and explicit inclusion of women signifies a community of followers in which male and female exist together to do the will of God.” (Carter, 195 & 198)
To this point in Mark, we find unexpected people showing up to learn and become a part of his ministry. He’s surrounded himself with the sick, sinners, and tax collectors, and even the disciples he’s named do not represent the powerful or those who are respected in society. They are, however, the ones who would help him build his community.
Last week I had the opportunity to attend a rally organized by Penn Policy at the state capitol. The rally was part of their Budget Summit, an event intended to educate people and promote fair tax policy. They highlighted inequities in school funding and lack of affordable housing, and also pointed out other failures in the system. For instance, the richest 1% of Pennsylvanians pay 6% of their income toward state and local taxes, while everyone else pays 11.8%, almost twice as much. (Pennsylvania Policy Center)
Speaking as someone who used to make a much greater salary than I do now, I can attest to the fact that state and local taxes are not a significant burden on high earners. And the increase being suggested by Penn Policy would not have had a substantive effect on my paycheck, while the reduction they are proposing for lower earners would make a difference for many struggling to make ends meet.
It’s a simple matter of justice and fairness, but one that threatens the wealth accumulation of the affluent. Thus, the efforts of Penn Policy will be opposed by legislators whose campaign coffers are funded by the wealthy.
Something that impressed me about the rally was the number of groups who were present to support Penn Policy’s efforts. At least nine other organizations heard the news about a more just and equitable way of operating, and they showed up. That’s what happens when enough people with an interest in the greater good ignore the misinformation, complication, and politicization of those whose main motivators are money and power.
Last week we observed the 80th anniversary of D-Day, a turning point in World War II. On that occasion, thousands showed up to risk their lives in pursuit of the greater good, even though the odds of success were slim. The Allied effort in World War II offers an example of what can happen when we come together in support of a common goal. When people say that a challenge is too big to solve — whether the challenge is food insecurity, lack of affordable housing, inequitable health care, or the climate emergency — I remind myself that we could do so with less cost and sacrifice than we made to win World War II.
Amanda Gorman and Christian Robinson wrote a wonderful children’s book called Something, Someday. In it, a little boy identifies a problem that he believes needs solved. He is told it is not a problem, that it cannot be fixed, that his efforts won’t work, and that he should stop hoping. He doesn’t, and then a friend shows up, and I don’t want to share any more except that you should find a copy of Something, Someday and read it every time you feel discouraged in your efforts to make the world a better place.
Or remember today’s scripture passage and know that we follow a savior who can plunder any strong man’s house. We live in a world with lots of “strong men” that take the form of corporations, politicians, governments, and wealthy individuals. They will do what they can to convince us that what we call problems are not, that they cannot be fixed, that our efforts won’t work, and that we should stop hoping. But their strength is, ultimately, fleeting. Thus anything being held captive by their influence — truth, hope, neighbors, a sustainable world, the marginalized — will be liberated. In the meantime, we will pursue the will of God together, and in doing so be a part of the family of Jesus.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Carter, Warren. Mark (Wisdom Commentary Series Book 42). Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 2019. Kindle Edition.
Gorman, Amanda and Christian Robinson. Something, Someday. New York City: Viking, 2023.
Lettsome, Raquel S. “Mark.” In Fortress Commentary on the Bible: The Old Testament and Apocrypha, edited by Gale A. Yee, Hugh R. Page, Jr., Matthew J. M. Coomber. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2014. Kindle edition.
Pennsylvania Policy Center. “People’s Budget 101 Presentation.” Accessed June 6, 2024. https://pennpolicy.org/budget-101/
Placher, William C. Mark. (BELIEF: A Theological Commentary on the Bible). Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.
