Mark 6:3 Explained
“Isn’t this the tekton (craftsman)? The son of Mary? Brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? And aren’t his sisters here with us?” (Mark 6:3)
That’s what they said. Right out loud.
Here’s the original, straight from the Greek Textus Receptus:
“Ouch houtos estin ho tekton, ho huios tēs Marias, kai adelphos Iakobou kai Iōsētos kai Ioudas kai Simōnos; kai ouchi hai adelphai autou hōde pros hēmas eisin?”
They weren’t just asking a question. It was a scoff. A sneer. “This guy? Seriously?”
That “houtos”, “this one”, is loaded. It’s accusatory. You can practically hear the suspicion under it. They’re pointing at Yeshua, someone they all grew up with, and they can’t wrap their heads around the fact that He might be anything more than a local laborer. What is it they say, “Familiarity breeds contempt”? That’s exactly what happened here.
And that word tekton, it’s more than “carpenter.” It means builder, craftsman, someone who works with raw, hard materials. And in Galilee? That more than likely meant stone. Nazareth was rocky country. Wood was scarce. Yeshua probably had calluses and grit under His fingernails. He wasn’t a philosopher in a robe. He was a man who knew hard work.
So when they said, “Isn’t this the tekton?”, what they meant was: “He’s just like us. What makes Him special?”
Then comes the kicker: “The son of Mary.”
Hold up. That’s not normal. Jewish men were identified through their father’s name. That’s how lineage worked. You’d expect: “son of Joseph.”
But they didn’t say that. They called Him “huios tēs Marias”, “son of Mary.”
Why? A few reasons.
Maybe Joseph had already died. Maybe.
Or maybe it was their not-so-subtle way of questioning His birth. A backhanded reminder of the whispers surrounding His conception.
Either way, it’s not respectful. And in a culture where names mattered? That little phrase says a lot.
Then they name His brothers: James, Joses, Judas, and Simon, all very Jewish, very common names. The word adelphos here means what it says: brother, born of the same mother. Not cousin. Not spiritual brother. Not poetic license. Real blood brothers.
And then: “Aren’t His sisters here with us?”
Plural. Adelphai. More than one.
He had sisters, too. Not named here, but known in the town. This was a full house. Yes, Mary had at least seven children, maybe more. She was no longer “the Virgin, Mary” after Yeshua was born.
This wasn’t some ethereal, half-human Yeshua floating through life untouched. He came from a big, working-class family in a podunk town. No palace. No wealth. No spotlight. He got up early, worked with His hands, and came home dirty just like everybody else.
And they rejected Him for it.
They stumbled over Him, because He was too normal.
Too familiar.
They couldn’t fathom that someone who grew up with them could be the Messiah.
This is what Psalm 118:22 already told us:
“The stone the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone.”
He was the tekton’s son, and the builders, the community, the leaders, the people who were supposed to recognize Him, totally rejected Him.
Nathanael said it too, in John 1:46:
“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
That wasn’t a joke. That was the reputation.
Nazareth was small. Poor. About 400 people. Just a hill town. Yeshua came from obscurity. No fame. No rabbinic credentials. No prestige.
And 1 Corinthians 1:27 hits the nail square:
“God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise…”
He chose it. On purpose. The tekton. The laborer. The no-name village. The backwater family. Because God’s glory doesn’t ride on status or reputation, it explodes through them.
And the rejection? It was personal.
They weren’t just questioning His theology. They were questioning His right to speak at all.
“We know your brothers. We know your sisters. We saw you working with Joseph.”
And now You claim to be anointed? Sent? The One?
Jeremiah 23:29 says,
“Is not My word like fire… and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?”
And Yeshua was the Living Word, standing there in front of them. The fire. The hammer. But they refused to hear it, not because it wasn’t true, but because they didn’t like the package it came in.
This verse in Mark 6:3 gives us a snapshot, but it’s loaded with thunder. It says:
He was ordinary.
He was family.
He was flesh and blood.
He was God in a craftsman’s body, and they rejected Him for being too close, too human, too familiar.
And yet, that’s exactly how He came, not in rich robes, but in simple linen garments.
Not on a white horse, but with dirt under His nails.
He didn’t just visit humanity, He lived it.
And they couldn’t see it, because they were too busy looking for something shinier. Fancier. Higher up the ladder. A soldier of high standing.
But that’s never how God moves. He chooses the womb. The manger. The tekton’s house. And a hill town called Nazareth.
Because that’s where real glory sneaks in, quiet, common, and divine.
Shalom, Shalom.
image generated by chatgpt at my direction