Sermon: July 21, 2019 - "Martha, Martha, Martha"

Luke 10:38-42 – Scripture Intro

Last week’s gospel text focused on the story of the Good Samaritan and our call as Christians to offer kindness and hospitality to strangers,

regardless of who they are, or where we encounter them out in the world.

This week’s text from Luke also focuses on the call to offer kindness and hospitality to strangers, this time to those we invite into our homes.  

This is the story of Mary and Martha and the two very different kinds of hospitality each of them offered when Jesus stopped by for dinner one night.

In the ancient world, offering hospitality to travelers was a highly valued and widely practiced custom among Jews, Christians, and Pagans alike.

In a nomadic society, one’s survival often depended upon the kindness of strangers.

Hosts were expected to provide food, shelter, amenities, and protection to traveling strangers.

To be a good citizen, and because you never knew if a stranger would turn out to be a traveling dignitary, or a god, or an angel in disguise.

There’s a reason why Luke tells us the story of the Good Samaritan and the story of Mary and Martha back to back –

Both stories are about offering hospitality,

and they present us with two sides of the same coin.

The story of the Good Samaritan is about putting our faith into action

by physically reaching out and caring for others.

“Go and DO likewise,” Jesus says at the story’s end.

In contrast, the story of Mary and Martha is not about doing,

it’s about being.

It’s about sitting still and quieting our hands and our minds.

And creating space for the stranger – and God – in our heart.  

The Rev. Maureen R. Frescott

Congregational Church of Amherst, UCC

July 21, 2019 – Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 10:38-42

“Martha, Martha, Martha”

I have five sisters.

The oldest, Mary, is the firstborn in our family.

Like many first-born children, Mary set the standard for the rest of us.

She was responsible, she got good grades in school, she was well behaved and organized, and she helped our mother with our ever-growing family while rarely complaining.

Mary cooked, cleaned, did laundry, and when she wasn’t doing chores she was in her room studying, preferring the company of books over people.

My sister Ruthie was the second born.

She’s the artist in our family.  

She is outgoing, creative, and shall we say, less organized than Mary. 

Growing up, she disliked doing chores, she immersed herself in drawing and painting, and her idea of having a good time was to be with friends just talking the night away.

When they were kids, Mary and Ruthie were like oil and water.

Because we had such a large family, and such a small house, Mary and Ruthie shared a bedroom for the entire 18 years that they lived at home.

And as you may have guessed, Ruthie’s side of the room was just as scattered and carefree as her way of moving in the world.

In other words, it was a mess.

One day Mary got so fed up with trying to keep Ruthie’s chaos off her side of the room she took a roll of masking tape and taped a line down one wall, across the carpet, and up the middle of the opposite wall.

She then announced to Ruthie that she could keep her side of the room as messy as she wanted, but no part of that mess was allowed to cross the line to Mary’s side.

This was an acceptable compromise,

as both of my sisters were allowed to be who they were in their own space.       

Although I suspect that having half of a messy room bothered Mary a lot more then having half a clean room bothered Ruthie. 

Sibling rivalry has been around since the day Adam and Eve first said to Cain, “You’re going to have a little brother, isn’t that wonderful?”

Our Bible has no shortage of stories that are built around the love/hate relationship that siblings have with one another –

Jacob and Esau, Ishmael and Isaac, Joseph and all of his brothers.

The author of the gospel of Luke continues that tradition with the story of Martha and Mary.

Luke doesn’t mention that Martha and Mary are the sisters of Lazarus –

the man Jesus raised from the dead. A story we find in John’s gospel.

This detail was apparently not important to Luke.

For Luke, it is the sister’s relationship to one another that is the focus,

not their brother.

The story of Martha and Mary presents us with the archetypal image of Biblical siblings - one is scattered and distracted,

and the other is focused and attentive.

Except this time it is the one WE might say is the responsible one, who is held up as the one worthy of scrutiny and judgment.

Which is why every time I see this reading come up in the lectionary,

I can’t help but say, “Poor Martha.”

This morning, in more Christian churches then we can count,

preachers are lifting up Mary as an example of the model Christian –

as one who sits quietly at Jesus’ feet and listens –

while Martha is chastised for being a preoccupied worker-bee who commits the grievous sin of not making time in her overly busy schedule to contemplate the Word of God.

There’s little wonder why preachers love this text.

It’s short, it’s simple and the message for us seems easy to tease out.

Mary is the one to emulate, and Martha is not.

But anyone who sits with this passage for more than five minutes soon realizes that it’s not that simple, and the message is not that straightforward.

For instance, there’s the small problem of Jesus rebuking Martha for doing the very thing that he’s been telling his disciples to do since they began their journey to Jerusalem:

To welcome the stranger, to show hospitality,

especially within the home. 

To demonstrate one’s faith in God not just through words,

but also through action.

Which is why I say, “Poor Martha.”

Jesus shows up on her doorstep and she invites him in for dinner.

He was not an expected guest, so I imagine it playing out like an episode of “Chopped” on the Food Network – where Martha is frantically trying to put together a meal fit for a Messiah with whatever she can find in her pantry.

But as she busies herself in the kitchen in an effort to show him hospitality, she is scolded for doing so.

And not only that, her sister Mary, who hasn’t lifted a finger to help,

is praised for shirking her responsibilities and choosing to sit and listen instead.

I can’t help but imagine, if Jesus had been a woman, this story would have played out quite differently, because the entire conversation would have taken place in the kitchen, as they all helped prepare the meal.

But how might we reconcile Jesus’ words to Martha?

She is doing exactly what her faith calls her to do and still Jesus says:

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;

there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part."

Perhaps Martha was making too much of a fuss,

and Jesus was merely suggesting that she stop puttering back and forth to the kitchen and sit down and join them.

Perhaps Jesus was not rebuking Martha, but rather inviting her to lay aside what she was doing and pay attention to what he had to say, for it would not be long before the cross would take him from them both.

But why then did Jesus say,

“There is need of only one thing, and Mary has chosen it.”

Could Jesus be saying that it is better to sit as a passive listener to his teachings, then to busy oneself with actively living them out?

There is no question that listening needs to come before action,

but both are of equal and necessary value aren’t they?

Is it really better to be a Mary than a Martha?

I don’t believe it is.

Which is why you won’t be hearing any Martha bashing from this pulpit today.

Jesus needs disciples like Martha just as much as he needs disciples like Mary. Because his church can’t run without them.

Most of us can name the Martha’s in our lives.

Some of us are Martha’s ourselves.

And just to note, being a Martha is not gender specific.

I’m referring to the women, and men, who do all the behind the scenes work that needs to get done for any organization or system to function properly. Whether it’s a household, a community, a corporation, or a church.

This work is rarely glorified and thus rarely noticed,

until for some reason it doesn’t get done.

One day we wake up and we have no clean clothes to wear.

The grocery shelves are empty and the trash bins are overflowing.

At church, we have no Deacons, Fellowship Team, or Trustees.

Civilization as we know it would crumble if we didn’t have Martha’s.

The men and women who tend to gravitate towards this work are often those who have no need to bask in the limelight.

Martha’s are not attention seekers, and they rarely ask for help,

even when they need it…

Until the day when it all just gets to be too much, and their frustration with being underappreciated and taken for granted boils over.

Which is what happened to the Martha in our gospel reading today.

She was tired, and she wanted some form of affirmation, and some help.

And Jesus saw that…but he didn’t offer her either.

Instead he gave her something better –

something she didn’t even know she was longing for.

He gave her permission to stop.

To stop filling all of her time with doing, and allow herself just to be.

To stop gauging her value TO others on what she was able to DO for others.

To stop believing she needed to earn her keep,

earn her merit badge as a tireless and devoted worker,

earn her way into God’s good graces.

Because there is only one thing we have to do to feel the full embrace of God’s unconditional love and grace.

And that is….just be.

To do as Mary does, and sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to him tell you,

“You are fearfully and wonderfully made, and God loves you just the way you are.”

Full stop.

No ifs….no ands….and no buts.

No - "if you get all the things on your spiritual to-do list done first."

No - "and you must also believe that Jesus Christ was born of a virgin, walked on water, and rose from the dead."

No - "but only if you don’t break any of these ancient and often arbitrary rules, and say you’re sorry when you do."

None of that has any bearing on God’s love for us.

Jesus said to Martha, “Stop. Sit. Just listen, and be.”

That’s something all of us need to hear, whether we’re a Martha or a Mary.

As Lutheran Seminary President, David Lose, writes:

This, frankly, is what church is supposed to be.

…a place where there is a lull in the cacophony of voices telling us we aren’t good enough.

A time to stop amid all of our important doing and hear the one needful thing: that we are God’s children, beloved for all time,

and that there is nothing we can do that would earn that love

and nothing we can do to lose it.

To the Martha’s and Mary’s among us, 

keep on doing what you’re doing.

Knowing that God loves you, 

as you are.  

Thanks be to God, and Amen.