Everyone who lives in a family knows what it is to be responsible for another family member. If you are a mother, you feel responsibility for those whom you brought into the world; in fact, some mothers spend their whole lives and much of their energy feeling utterly responsible for everything their children do. Some mothers feel nothing but guilt, and the joy is lost. But mothers are responsible.
And fathers too. We really are. It feels as though fathers have had to endure long and loud lectures about being responsible. There’s an assumption that fathers don’t care in quite the same way – that we distance ourselves from our children more than mothers do. Well, I’ve never been a mother, and so I can’t get into the comparison game. But as the father of two thirty-somethings, I can tell you I feel very responsible toward them. Why else would I have trekked all the way over to Reston the other day, just to make sure our traveling son’s house was all right? We feel responsible! We care. Fathers and mothers alike.
Then there’s the responsibility brothers and sisters have for one another. If you were an older brother or sister when you were growing up, didn’t you just love it when Mom said, “I’m going out for a few minutes. Look after the little darlings.” How did that feel? Tell the truth, now. Didn’t you feel the power of it?! Authority! Wonderful! Until your little brother got frisky and said, “You’re not my Mom; you can’t tell me what to do.” But you felt responsibility, and you spent the rest of that hour before Mom came home rehearsing your speech about what problems the little rascal gave you. We are responsible for one another.
Jesus recognized that. In one of His last acts, in the midst of the incredible pain of the cross, Jesus remembered that in families we have responsibilities for one another. We care for one another. We do what has to be done for one another. But Jesus took it a step further. Jesus made family responsibility a gift. Jesus taught us to give and to receive care in extra-special ways.
Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, "Woman, here is your son." Then he said to the disciple, "Here is your mother." And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.
For the Flowers-McNeil family – your circumstances are different from these, but the dynamics are the same. It is not the son who has died, but the mother. Nonetheless, what the Lord Jesus gave at that moment is a gift available to you today. The gift of care and the gift of caring; the opportunity both to receive and to give love. Responsibility for one another.
I want you to imagine with me for just a moment the memories that were flooding through Mary’s mind as she stood and watched her son in agony. Imagine with me all that she must have felt at that incredibly painful moment.
Surely Mary had never forgotten the wonder of the birth of her son. Who is going to forget angels and shepherds and wise men and precious gifts? But no doubt she also remembered how, when she and Joseph took this precious infant to the Temple, someone had predicted that a sword would pierce her own soul. Responsible care always involves some pain.
And surely Mary could recall that moment when the twelve-year-old Jesus had asserted Himself and had lingered behind, pestering the Temple teachers with His questions. How irritated she had been, but He always seemed to hear another voice than her own. Responsible care always involves some degree of misunderstanding.
And I imagine that Mary, standing there, remembered other painful moments too: she remembered the embarrassment when they almost ran Jesus out of town for the things He said at a synagogue service; she remembered the astonishing rebuke when she came to take Him home and He shouted out that His real mother and brothers and sisters were those who do the will of God, not just the little crowd from Nazareth. Responsible care always involves puzzling, difficult times.
Surely Mary remembered the painful moments, the moments that she wished had been different. But now, in this hour, because He was her son, and that’s really all that mattered, she was here for Him. Now, in this moment of His ultimate degradation, dying a criminal’s death, spat upon and reviled, cursed and blamed, here she was. She knew, and you know, that when family members hurt, that’s where you have to be. It doesn’t really matter what has gone before, what has been said or done – all of that is water under the bridge now. We care. We are responsible for family members. And when they suffer, we have to be there. We just have to.
For several months now we have watched as you have stayed by your mother’s side. From the time the word came that her illness was terminal, we have known that all of you were as close by as you could be. You have been attentive; you have touched her, you have responded to her needs. You have been there for her in her suffering. I believe that these last months have been great gifts – both to her and to you. Let me lift up these gifts, one by one, so that you may treasure them.
First, you and she have received the gift of her deepening spiritual awareness. Annie Flowers McNeil already knew the Lord; of that there is no doubt. But in her last months, she came into closer fellowship and felt deeper communion than ever before. The testimony we have heard is that as you prayed and as you cared – as you enlisted others to pray and to care – she felt the presence of the living Christ. She knew God’s love. She felt peace. What a glorious gift – to be able to face the ultimate and to do so with peace! But Annie McNeil did not achieve that on her own. She got there because you cared and you prayed. She received this gift because you were not afraid to draw near at her time of need. The gift of peace is yours as well as hers, because you remained faithful. A magnificent and lasting gift! Well done, family; well done! The gift of deepening spiritual awareness.
Second, you have received the gift of care for yourselves. Just as Jesus commended His mother to John’s care and John to His mother’s care, you have received the gift of care for yourselves. I hope that each of you has discovered anew the depth of love that you have for one another. Families sometimes take each other for granted, or lose touch. But your shared love for your mother means that you have been drawn closer together. You know, sometimes when the person who seemed to be the “glue” that holds a family together passes away, that family disintegrates. Several years ago, when my father died, a man walked up to me at the funeral, and I didn’t even know who he was! He was a cousin I had not seen for years, but he came to express his love for his uncle. What a shame that we forget that in families we are gifts to one another! That is a gift that can be nourished and cherished. Woman, here is your son; son, here is your mother. Flowers, here are the McNeils; McNeils, here are the Flowers. You are brothers and sisters for one another. Gifts.
And third, you have received the gift of care for others. Your legacy today is to see those for whom your mother cared, and to care for them in her place. Her love can be extended. She in her death commends others to your responsible care:
She commends to your care the communities where you live. I know the Madison Street branch of this family, how long you have been rooted in that place, how you know and care for your neighbors. Your mother’s gift, is for you to care for the community where you live, be it Madison Street or Surry or wherever. Family, here is your community. It is yours to care for.
She commends to your care the children of your family network. The grandchildren and the cousins and all the younger ones who need you. As a mother and a grandmother, Annie Flowers McNeil knew the joy and the pain of seeing children grow. Her memories may not have been as dramatic as those of Mary, but still she lived and died knowing that her task had been well done. Honor her by paying attention to the children in your family. See that they know who she was and what she stood for. Remind them of her values, tell them stories about her, teach them what it means to be a part of this family. She gives you the children of your family network.
And, I believe, Annie McNeil commends to your care as well the needs of others. She would not want you to limit your love only to those in your own small circle, but she would want you to care for a wider circle. She would want you to notice the last, the least, the lost, and the lonely. Did you hear who else was around when Jesus spoke to Mary? Not only Mary and not only Mary’s sister, but also Mary Magdalene! The disreputable, marginal, troubled Mary Magdalene. There she stood at the cross, faithful to Jesus, but also within Mary’s reach. And I like to think that when Mary went home with John that day, there was room also for Mary Magdalene. What a gift you have been given, if out of your pain and your loss you find compassion for others in need!
Woman, here is your son; son, here is your mother. And from that day, without hesitation, the disciple took her into his own home.
Why not? For after all, the Lord has taken Annie McNeil into His home! For after all, the Savior has gone to prepare a place for her! His promise is sure – that in the Father’s house are many mansions. His commitment is clear – that where He is, she will be also. She is at home. The gift of eternal life is hers. But not hers alone. The gift can be yours as well. To know Jesus Christ as savior and Lord; to follow Him in faith; to accept His forgiving love; to labor in His Kingdom. All of these gifts can be yours! Receive them; so that God’s family may be unbroken.
