When I Survey
H. Hoeksema
Book 3, Chapter 3
A Stranger Unto His Brethren

"I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children." (Ps. 69:8)

When the author of the sixty-ninth psalm complains that he is become a stranger unto his brethren, he refers to a profound difference between these and himself, of a deep chasm that separates from them those that should be united with him in the bonds of natural love. And this alienation of himself from his own kin is a cause of much grief and deep suffering on the part of the poet.

To be a stranger among strangers is not so serious, and need not be a matter of distress, or a cause of misery. A traveler may, for a time, sojourn in a strange land. He is a stranger in the land of his sojourn. There are natural differences between him and the inhabitants of that land. He does not belong to them. He differs from them in appearance, in dress, in personal habits. He speaks a different language. His citizenship is not in that land. He has no home there. He merely sojourns among them for a time, in order then to return to his own country. But his being a stranger in that land is not a cause of distress and grief to him. It is true, he is marked as a stranger. Perhaps, he may occasionally feel lonesome, and a longing for his homeland may steal into his soul. But for the rest he does not suffer any inconvenience. He is known as a stranger, and accepted as such. Perhaps, he is received and treated with extraordinary deference, kindness, and hospitality. The inhabitants of the strange land put forth special efforts to make him feel at home, and are eager to make a good impression on this stranger among them. Must one not be hospitable to strangers? And is it not true that people that are rude to their own kin often put themselves out to be polite and kind to strangers, especially if these be men of some standing, and to make a favorable impression on them?

However, to be stranger to men, and particularly, to be a stranger to one's brethren, is something quite different, speaks of a far more serious and profound alienation. It is not natural, but spiritual. It refers to a chasm which even the most intimate ties of natural love and blood relationship cannot bridge. If one is a stranger unto men, as the psalmist complains that he is, he dwells among his own kin. From a natural viewpoint he is like them. There is every possible affinity and kinship between them and himself. He is flesh of their flesh, and blood of their blood. He is their fellow-citizen. He speaks the same language as they, has his home among them, comes into daily contact with them, is met on their streets, in their public places, in their shops and factories. He buys and sells among them, he eats and drinks with them. From a natural viewpoint, he lives the same life as they. And he is well known to them. They know his father and his mother, and remember where and when he was born, and how he grew up among them. And if he is a stranger, not merely to men, but to his brethren, the natural affinity is as close as possible. The same blood is coursing in their veins. They were brought up from earliest infancy in the same home, sucked the same breasts, ate at the same table, slept in the same bed, had the same education, and should, according to every natural law of kinship be thorough acquaintances and close companions of one another.

And yet, he is a stranger to them!

There is a profound difference between them and himself, a spiritual difference so deep and radical, that even the closest blood relationship is not capable of overcoming it. Those that ought to know him do not understand him. They that should be his companions according to every natural law, separate themselves from him. His walk and conversation is different from theirs, and they cannot explain them. He does not seem to fit in their world of thought. He is motivated by different principles, he strives after different ideals, he walks in a different direction. He is out of step with the world. He cannot accommodate himself to the ways of his fellowmen. Though, from a natural viewpoint, he is like his fellows, from a spiritual point of view he is totally different. He is a stranger, not among men, but to men. They know him well in a natural sense, but spiritually he is an alien to them. They misunderstand and misinterpret him. He is a stranger to his brethren!

And this spiritual alienation from one's fellowmen, from one's own kin, is a cause of suffering. For what man is there in whose heart there is no need of fellowship? Who does not yearn for association and companionship with his fellowmen? Who does not long to be congenial with them, to live in agreement with them. Who does not feel a deep need of the love of those that are his kith and kin according to the flesh? And who does not suffer when those that should be his intimate companions treat him as an alien, misinterpret his actions, ascribe evil motives to him, consider him odd, a fool, a misfit in society, separate themselves from him, cast him out of their fellowship, and heap upon him reproach and shame?

Such a stranger among His brethren according to the flesh is the Christ!

For there can be no doubt that also in the eighth verse of the sixty-ninth psalm it is Christ that is speaking of His relation to men, and of his suffering among them and from them. Indeed, as we said before, the subject that is speaking here is also the poet himself, and he is complaining of his own estrangement from his brethren. Moreover, the psalm was sung by the Old Testament people of God, and is still sung by the Church of the new dispensation. Throughout the ages of history, God's people are strangers in the earth, and they can, indeed, take these words of the sixty-ninth psalm on their own lips: "I am become a stranger to my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children." Abel was a stranger to Cain when he offered the better sacrifice and was accepted. Enoch was an alien to his fellowmen, when he witnessed against the ungodliness of his age, and prophesied of the coming of the Lord to judge. Noah had brothers and sisters, children of his mother, but he was a stranger and fool to them when he became a preacher of righteousness, and built the ark, for he alone of them all was saved. Abraham became a stranger in the earth when he obeyed the Word of God, and sought the city that hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. And so one might go on, and pass in review the lives of all the saints of the old dispensation, of Jacob in relation to Esau, of Joseph and his brethren, of Moses in Egypt and in the desert, of Gideon, and Jephthah, and Samson, of David and his father's sons, of all the prophets that were despised, and tortured, and stoned to death. And are not all the people of God in the new dispensation strangers in the earth? Is it not true that, the more they reveal themselves as children of God, and stand for the cause of the Son of God in the midst of the world, the more they must stand alone, and become strangers unto their fellowmen and their brethren according to the flesh? And did not the Savior say that "the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child: and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death"? Matt. 10:21. And again: "He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." Matt. 10:37. Indeed, the words of the sixty-ninth psalm have a general application, and refer to all the saints in the world. They are strangers unto their brethren.

And yet, this is true only because, and in as far as Christ is in them, and becomes manifest in them. The real speaker in the psalm is Christ. In Him these words are fulfilled.

First of all, these words may be applied to Him in their most literal, historical sense: in the days of His flesh he was a stranger to His nearest kin, to His mother, to His brothers and sisters. There are those who insist that Christ had no real brothers and sisters according to the flesh. When these terms are used in relation to Jesus, they have a wider meaning, and refer to more distant relatives, according to them. They consider that it was but proper that Mary should remain a virgin, and bear no other children than the Son of man. But we can not agree with this. Christ was not an only child, but the firstborn of Mary, even as He is firstborn among many brethren. Besides, Scripture definitely speaks of His brothers and sisters, speaks of them in the same breath with His father and mother, and mentions His brothers by name. "Is not this the carpenter's son? Is not his mother called Mary? And his brethren James, and Joses, and Simon, and Judas? And his sisters, are they not all with us?" Matt. 13:55,56. And the idea itself that He should have been an only son is not Scriptural at all, nor does it appeal to us. Scripture much rather emphasizes that He became like unto us in all things, which implies that He entered into every possible human relationship, and lived our whole life. He was a son in relation to His parents, a brother in relation to His brothers and sisters.

But He was a stranger to them. He grew up in their midst, in the home of Joseph and Mary in Nazareth. Daily they must have had contact with Him. They became acquainted with Him. And even then He must have impressed them as being principally different from them in a spiritual sense, though in all other respects He was like unto them. How could it be otherwise? Was He not the Son of God in the flesh, and even in His human nature without sin? Never did He commit an act of disobedience to His parents, never did He perform a sinful act, never did an idle word leave His lips. He was perfect in all His ways. How painfully different and strange He must have been, even as a child, to His brothers and sisters!

And this was emphasized and accentuated when He entered upon His public ministry. No doubt, their mother had informed his brothers and sisters about His wonderful birth, and about the marvelous things that were spoken of Him by the angel. He was the expected Messiah! Yet, even in the light of this knowledge, they could not explain Him. He was radically different from any conception of the Messiah they had formed, and wholly different from what they wanted Him to be. They, no doubt, expected Him to rise to earthly glory, and would fain share in His glory. But soon after He began His public ministry, it became evident to them that in this they were to be disappointed. He did not seek earthly glory. He did not aspire to an exalted position. On the contrary, by His severe preaching He soon antagonized the men of power and influence, the chief priests, and scribes, and Pharisees. His brethren wanted Him to go to Jerusalem, and to perform His wonderful works, and reveal His mighty power to the leaders of the nation, in order that they might acclaim Him as the expected King of Israel. They said to Him: "There is no man that doeth anything in secret, and he himself seeketh to be known openly. If thou do these things, shew thyself to the world." John 7:4. For even then it was already true that "neither did his brethren believe in him." Even His own mother did not understand Him. At the wedding feast of Cana, she wanted Him to show His power, and reveal Himself as the Messiah, for her hour was always there. When by His teaching He antagonized the leaders of the nation, His friends considered that He was mad, and they tried to lead Him away by main force. Mark 3:21. And for the same reason and purpose, His mother and brethren came on the scene, sending messages to Him, and calling Him, that they might take Him with them. Mark 3:31ff. They sought His earthly exaltation. They would have Him be popular with the great and influential of the nation. And now everything went wrong. He was ruining His own reputation. He was fast working out His own destruction. He traveled the way of death! He was a stranger unto His brethren!

But, of course, the text of the sixty-ninth psalm has a wider application. It means that He was a stranger to men. Emphatically it means: "Even to my own brethren, those that are nearest to me of kin, those that should know me, and love me, I am become a stranger! How much more am I a stranger to all men! If my own father and mother, and brothers, and sisters, do not understand me, how can it be expected that I am anything but an alien to men in general?" And so it proved to be, indeed, in the days of His flesh. The more He spoke, and worked, and revealed who and what He was, and what He came to do, the wider and deeper the chasm yawned that separated Him from the men of His day. On the one side of this chasm He stood more and more alone, a stranger to, and forsaken by men; on the other side stood men of all classes and stations in life, revealing their alienation from Him in various ways. When He sought to save that which was lost, they called Him a companion of sinners; when He came eating and drinking, they said that He was glutton and a winebibber; when He cast out devils, they attributed His power to Beelzebub; when He did well on the sabbath, they called Him profane; when He taught the people, they said that He was a deceiver; when He claimed to be the Son of God, they accused Him of blasphemy. Others were offended in Him, and forsook Him. And finally He stood completely forsaken, wholly alone, a stranger to all, so that when His enemies took hold of Him, to condemn Him to death. He had no one to support Him, and to defend His cause. He had become a complete stranger to all.

Let us not fail to grasp the import of this, and to understand what the Word of God has to say to us here. For it concerns us very deeply. We must beware, lest we contemplate this alienage of the Christ of God from the heights of our modern religiousness, in order then to flatter ourselves that in our modern world and to our modern men He is no longer a stranger. There is a Word of God here. And the Word of God in this case is that Christ is always a stranger to all men, to men as they are in this world, mere, natural men, no matter whether they be Jew or Gentile, rich or poor, civilized or outside of the pale of our civilization. He is a stranger to you and to me as we are by nature, apart from grace. Nor must we fail to understand the true character of this alienation. It is spiritual. The situation was not such in the days of His flesh, that men did not understand Him in the natural sense, and that they completely failed to grasp His teaching, and the purpose of His coming, as far as their natural understanding was concerned. But the more they understood, the more they became alienated from Him. The reason is, as He Himself expressed it in the sixty-ninth psalm: "For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up." He came in behalf of God's house, God's eternal covenant. He came to represent the cause of God in the world, and to establish God's Kingdom in the way of God's righteousness, which for Him was the way of self-humiliation and death, even the death of the cross. But they were carnal, and minded carnal things. And thus it is always. He is heavenly, we are earthly; He is spiritual, we are carnal; He represents the cause of God, we are enemies of God; He seeks God's righteousness, we seek our own righteousness; He came to reveal the light of life, we love the darkness rather than the light. He is a stranger to His brethren, to all men, always and everywhere, to you and to me, because He is the perfect revelation of God, and God, the living God, is a stranger to us! That is our condemnation. Let us confess it!

Nor is this the last word. For He came to make us, who are by nature alienated from Him, His brethren! He died as a stranger to the world, but of His death He made a perfect sacrifice, blotting out the guilt of our sin, that He might bring us to God. And God justified Him, raised Him from the dead, glorified Him at His right hand, and made Him the quickening Spirit. And by the power of His grace He quickens us, enlightens us, calls us out of darkness into the light, and makes us His brethren in the spiritual sense of the word. And thus we know Him, saved by grace, and when He declares the name of God unto His brethren in the midst of the church, we join Him in singing the praise of Him Who loved us, and washed us in the blood of His Son. The Stranger to all is the Firstborn among many brethren in the congregation of the redeemed!