Where is the Love?
A Sermon on Mark 10:2-16 for St Francis' Day, 2024
“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
So begins Anna Karenina, Tolstoy’s insightful novel about the depths of suffering that we inflict on vulnerable people when we get our marriage and divorce laws wrong. He pointed towards the variety of ways that husbands in his (nineteenth century Russian) culture were able to use their legal and political power to make their wives miserable, while there was (and always has been) just one way for a family to be happy - love.
Jesus challenged his contemporaries on this matter a couple of times, and one or the other of those conversations comes up in the lectionary every year. And every year I am a bit reluctant to preach on it because I know how uncomfortable it makes people. And the problem is that it makes the wrong people feel uncomfortable.
There are people who should feel uncomfortable: People who treat their current or former spouse with malice and contempt then use the law to bolster their own sense of being in the right. They should feel uncomfortable, but instead they tend to look at the words of Jesus and say to their spouse “See! You can’t leave me! Jesus said you have to stay.”
The people who usually do feel uncomfortable when these passages are read are the ones who are staying in miserable, soul-destroying marriages and also the ones who have been brave enough to leave, only to sense that their Christian friends condemn them, and that maybe God condemns them. I don’t ever want these people to feel uncomfortable in church, so I hesitate every time these readings come up in the lectionary.
But you know what? I am absolutely certain that Jesus didn’t want vulnerable people to feel uncomfortable in the Christian community either. I am not more compassionate than Jesus!
Jesus was challenging the attitudes to marriage and divorce held by his contemporaries, but because our world is so different, we don’t quite hear what he is saying.
There is a familiar pattern that Jesus’ conversations with the religious leaders of his day often followed:
1. Someone approaches Jesus with a question of Law.
2. Jesus replies with a clarifying question: “You tell me what you understand the law to be saying.”
3. They reply in a way that gets a little closer to their real question.
4. Jesus challenges their interpretation of the law – not in a nit-picky way but in a way that reminds them that the Law is about love. ALWAYS about love! “Love the Lord your God with all your heart. Love your neighbour as yourself.” That’s what the Law always boiled down to. And it wasn’t just Jesus who said that. It is very clear in the Scriptures, and his contemporaries understood that too (eg Luke 10:25-28). So if their focus is not on love then they have missed the whole meaning. Basically, what Jesus always says at this point is, “Where is the love?”
Where is the love?
Sometimes we miss this pattern in this particular passage. It is hard to read anything closely when it makes us feel so uncomfortable. But see how it plays out:
1. Pharisees ask him if it is OK for a man to divorce his wife.
2. Jesus says, “What did Moses command you?”
3. They say that Moses gave them a legal system where the man just needs to write a certificate and he’s good to go.
4. Jesus says, “Where is the love?” OK, what he actually says is something along the lines of, “Last time I checked, marriage and divorce involved two people.” [In his day the two people were always a woman and a man.] “You are focussing only on the legal standing of the man. Where is the wife in all this? What is her situation? What does she want? What does she need? Where would the divorce leave her? What sort of life would the man be forcing her into if he dismissed her?” Where is the love?
Where is the love?
Jesus lived in a society in which the rights and needs of women were routinely ignored. In a society with a legal system that fails to protect vulnerable people, what is there to ensure they are protected?
Only one thing.
Love.
So whenever People came to Jesus with a nitpicking question about the law, he replied by asking them, “Where is the love?”
Jesus immediately goes on to talk about welcoming and blessing children. Not because they are cute. Not because they are innocent. Not because of their potential to make a contribution to society when they grow up. But because there was no societal pressure on people to care about the needs and wants of children who were not their own.
In a society where there is no pressure to protect children, what is there to ensure children are welcomed, considered and protected?
Only one thing.
Love.
Jesus is challenging his society’s attitudes to marriage and family. His words were shocking, and they were political. Remember that John the Baptist was beheaded for criticising King Herod’s marriage.
In a similar passage in Matthew, the disciples respond to Jesus’ words about divorce by saying that maybe it would be better not to marry in the first place, if divorce is such a serious thing. And Jesus says, yes, choosing not to marry is a real option that more people should consider. That was shocking. Continuing the family line and the family business was one of the most important obligations of a man like Jesus – especially as he was the oldest son in his family. But he chose not to marry, and he invites others to consider not marrying.
As Francis of Assisi did.
Francis grew up in late twelfth century Italy. He was rich and entitled, and spent his youth the way rich, entitled young men have tended to live in every generation. But some experiences of hardship – a year as a prisoner of war and a serious illness, along with the beginnings of his spiritual visions – caused him to slow down and change his way of living. These experiences taught him to lament over his past way of life – over his tendency to use other people for his own pleasure. As he looked over his earlier life, he saw luxury and self-indulgence, military and sexual conquests and defeats. But where was the love?
He began to believe he heard God speak to him, telling him to repair God’s church, which was in ruins. He took that literally and, in an action that is not generally considered a step toward sainthood, he misappropriated funds from his family’s business to offer the priest of a local church that was in disrepair.
We can’t condone theft, of course, but we can see what is going on in his mind at this dawning of spiritual maturity. He looked at the wealth his family was accumulating just for themselves – not serving God and not serving people who were more vulnerable – and he asked himself, “Where is the love?” He considered what was legal and he considered what was loving and he chose to do the latter.
His father took a dim view of these goings on, disowned him and accused him before the bishop. The bishop urged him to place his confidence in God to provide everything he needed. He again took this literally. He stripped himself of everything his father had given him, and standing naked in front of the bishop, his father, and a crowd of people said, “From now on, I can say with complete freedom, ‘Our Father in Heaven.’ Pietro Bernardone is no longer my father.”
He was not rejecting family life, though. He was expanding it. Being released from family obligations allowed him to genuinely embrace every creature as a brother or sister – especially the most vulnerable, those who suffered from leprosy and destitution. His sense of family expanded to include not just every human but every animal, every plant, even the earth, the sun and the moon.
He found delight in this freedom and chose to remain free by refraining from marriage. Choosing to remain single was not motivated by rejection of sexual pleasure, as people often think. It was about rejecting the whole array of obligations that came with being part of a family, including the obligation to provide for the next generation. No marriage = no next generation = no need to be anxious about money. His poverty was his alone to enjoy. He would not force it on others. But without force, others chose to join him because they were attracted to his lifestyle for the same reasons he was. People look at the life they were expected to live and saw privilege and obligation, but where was the love?
Francis formed a very close platonic partnership with a woman called Clare. Their choice not to marry did not keep them from loving companionship, or from leading a growing community of Christians together.
Jesus, Francis and Clare did not align themselves with old-fashioned family values. They challenged those values vigorously. And Christians today are also called to critique the family values handed down to us – not to embrace them blindly.
St Paul’s is an odd context in which to talk about choosing to stay single. Most of you have settled that question long ago. For yourselves. But what about your grandchildren and other young people in your extended family? What advice are you giving them? What unhelpful pressure is society be putting on them that you might free them from?
I know they are unlikely to come to you asking for relationship advice, but maybe there are times you can challenge received wisdom and share the wisdom of love.
How might we teach young ones to look at romance culture and say, “That’s all very sweet but where is the love.”
How might we teach young ones to look at one night stand culture and say, “That sounds fun but where is the love?”
How might we teach young men to look at incel culture and say, “I understand the frustration but where is the love?”
When St Francis was freed from the pressure of family values, his understanding of family didn’t shrink, it expanded. He was able to see everything and everyone as a sibling, as is beautifully expressed in this prayer that very likely was composed by him.
Canticle of Brother Sun and Sister Moon
St. Francis of Assisi
Praised be You my Lord with all Your creatures,
especially Sir Brother Sun,
Who is the day through whom You give us light.
And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendour,
Of You Most High, he bears the likeness.
Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,
In the heavens you have made them bright, precious and fair.
Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all weather’s moods,
by which You cherish all that You have made.
Praised be You my Lord through Sister Water,
So useful, humble, precious and pure.
Praised be You my Lord through Brother Fire,
through whom You light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.
Praised be You my Lord through our Sister, Mother Earth
who sustains and governs us,
producing varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.
Praise be You my Lord through those who grant pardon for love of You and bear sickness and trial.
Blessed are those who endure in peace,
By You Most High, they will be crowned.
Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Death,
from whom no-one living can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Blessed are they She finds doing Your Will.
No second death can do them harm.
Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks,
And serve Him with great humility.
Amen
With Love from Rev Margaret