Who is his mother?
Who are his brothers?
Who his father?
These call him insane
They wag the finger
And quote the psalm
Join not with the wicked
Nor fellowship with sinners
They are worthless as chaff
But see what fruit
These few have borne
What their seed yields
His brothers have never known him
The good news falls on hardpacked paths
They hear but they do not believe
His mother was a rocky place
That received the word with joy
Yet she of late has fallen away
Even he that was his earthly sire
Good soil indeed that once he was
Sees him not through worldly cares
But those with eyes may see
And those with ears may hear
Yes those with hands hold fast
These are his chosen people
Those who bear much fruit
In whom the word takes root
Praised be the Lord
There are many dawns
Before the harvest moon
Nothing is ever hidden
Except to be revealed
Another season awaits
A crop may be spoiled
By waves of driving hail
Or late summer drought
Judgment comes not yet
Tend to your own fruit
Husband your own fields
May the dormant seed
Await the wadi’s flood
Or spade-turned earth
Peter puzzles over the failure of Jesus’ family to respond positively to his ministry… in the context of the parable of the sower. (Peter wasn’t the only disciple to make the association. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all connect Jesus “Who is mother? and who are my brothers?” remark with this parable.)