Matthew 12.46-50

The Church As It Should Be

Matthew 12:46-50

By: Lindsey Bell

This year has been a hard one for my family. It all started last October, when we miscarried our second child at twelve weeks pregnant. (If you want to read the whole story, I blog about our miscarriages here.) Three months later, we miscarried again. Then six months after that, we miscarried a third time. 

Three losses in one year and more tears than I thought possible. It was a year I never want to relive. But there was one high point, one thing that enabled me to survive: God’s Church. 

 Let’s look at our text for today, and then I’ll explain how the church helped us: 

“While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. ⁴⁷ Someone told him, ‘Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.’ ⁴⁸ He replied to him, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ ⁴⁹ Pointing to his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. ⁵⁰ For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother’” (Matthew 12:46-50). 

I want to point out a couple of things about this text. First, we need to understand that Jesus wasn’t bashing his family. One mistake Christians often make today is to put their families last: behind sports, behind hobbies, sometimes even behind ministry. This text is not a license to put family last. 

Jesus treasured his family—so much so that they chose to follow him after his resurrection (See Acts 1:14). That certainly wouldn’t have happened if Jesus consistently put his disciples above his family. His brother, James, became a leader in the early church. Leaders aren’t born out of neglect. This text, contrary to what a surface reading might lead you to believe, is not a family-bashing session. 

A second thing we need to understand about this text is that our lines of “family” are often skewed. We think of family as mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children, grandparents, in-laws, etc. The people we go to church with—they aren’t family; they’re friends. What this text is telling us is that these people we sit next to on Sunday mornings are family. 

After our miscarriages, our “family” brought meals, send cards, left Facebook messages, some even brought gifts. This “family” was the hands and feet of Jesus to us when we needed it most. 

This week, I challenge you to be on the lookout for needs within your “family.” Is someone hurting? Write her a card. Is someone joyful? Share in his joy. Is someone struggling? Help her. 

So what if you’re not related to them? So what if you don’t see them more than once a week? So what if you don’t know their child’s name or where they live? You are their family. Let’s start acting like the family of God we’re meant to be.

After all, Jesus’ blood runs deeper than genetics.