Scripture: Ephesians 2: 13-22; Luke 10:
38-42
(38) Now as they were on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman
named Martha welcomed him into her home. (39) She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the
Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. (40) But Martha was distracted by her many
tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left
me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." (41) But the Lord
answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; (42)
there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken
away from her."
- Luke 10:38-42
This story of Mary and Martha has always irritated me for many of the reasons the story
of the prodigal son does: the responsible sibling who follows the social, legal and
religious rules is not thanked by Jesus, but chastised. As one who was trained well to do
so, and has spent much of her life trying to hold up not only her corner of the universe,
but several other corners as well, and believed that in so doing, I was being a faithful
Christian, I can tell you that a story like this seems grossly unfair. After all, no
matter our gender, those of us who are predisposed to be overly responsible are convinced
that being super responsible is the right way to be.
But here is Jesus, praising Mary, who sits at his feet not helping out at all, and
we're the ones who are taken to task. Then I realize again that Jesus' words, which sound
like judgment, are actually good news. The world does not rest on our shoulders, but on
God's. Even as we are called to a life of service, we are also called to a life of
dialogue with God that can only occur when we set aside our busy tasks and distractions to
listen both for our voice and for the voice of God speaking to us. In the story of Martha
and Mary, we learn that the life of the faithful Christian includes both time for doing
and time for listening.
There is also hope imbedded in this story. The Gospel of John also speaks of Martha and
Mary. Their brother Lazarus became ill and Martha (the responsible one) sent for Jesus to
heal him. You see, Martha must have sat down and listened to Jesus because she believed
Jesus could heal her brother. More than that, she believed Jesus could raise him from the
dead. And more than that, she is the only person in the Gospels, except for Peter, to
proclaim Jesus of Nazareth as the long-awaited Messiah. Martha did not stop being a person
of responsibility and accountability. But we also know from her actions in John, that she
learned to take time to listen, to balance the being and doing sides of herself.
Martha and Mary must have become models of faith and leaders in the church for their
stories, and even their names, are told in two different Gospels, a rare occurrence for
anyone, even those within the inner circle of disciples. I imagine that Martha, with her
mix of attentiveness to God and efficiency in action, was much like Martin Luther and
Mother Theresa would become later: people who spent significant time in prayer each day
and, therefore, could accomplish much of God's work as well.
There is another dimension of this story that has caught my eye and heart. I don't
believe it is the main point, but I wonder if it runs a close second. Scholars have
puzzled over why this story was included at all in the Gospels. It's a story of Jesus
having dinner with two unmarried sisters and communicates a point that could have been
made in lots of other stories. Why is this encounter recorded?
I don't claim to have the answer for all the centuries, but I would propose a window
into the answer that sheds more light onto God's good news for the world and vision for
the church. As when Jesus accepted an invitation to dinner from Zaccheus, the tax
collector, this is another story in which Jesus reached out to those beyond the circle of
acceptable society. Two adult, unmarried sisters were in that culture among the group at
the bottom of the list of people with whom an important rabbi should spend time, and whose
hospitality he certainly should not have accepted. Women at that time were only valued if
they were married with children. Unmarried women, widows and divorced women were
considered an embarrassment and a burden to their families and communities. Some would
argue it's not much different today in many ways.
We don't know why Mary and Martha lived on their own but we can assume that they had
either never married or were divorced, because if they were widowed the scripture
certainly would have noted that. So when Jesus accepted their invitation to dinner, he
overturned another apple cart. He showed that he welcomed, affirmed and included single
women, and women who were engaged first-hand in listening to and learning from him.
Jesus' welcome and affirmation of single people is also good news that we need to hear
in our own day. Jesus called as disciples - and the church lifted up as leaders - women
and men who did not fit into the box of a husband and wife with two children, two pets and
an SUV. Jesus shared table fellowship with two singles and loved them and their brother so
much that he cried when Lazarus died.
Today, nearly half the adult members of this church are single widowed, divorced or
never married -- in every decade of life. The recent census has pointed out that an
enormous and growing percentage of adults in the total population are single as well. What
a hopeful, affirming and life-giving word Jesus gives us that the church is the household
of God where one does not need to be part of a traditional family to fit in and have a
place at the table. There lies good news and the strong challenge to the church.
Because we are so accustomed to what the church has looked like in these decades after
World War II, the witness of the early church regarding families and relationships seems
strange to us today.
The Apostle Paul wanted all Christians to stay single and get married only if it were
absolutely necessary. When it became evident that the world wasn't going to end
immediately, Christians settled in for the long haul, married and had children. But until
the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century, being a faithful Christian who was single
was actually considered of greater spiritual value than being married.
In many ways the Reformers threw out the baby with the bath water when they separated
from the Catholic Church. Instead of lifting married folk up to the spiritual ranking
given singles, and then upholding both as equally valid ways of life in which the love and
purpose of God could be seen, they merely reversed this arbitrary ranking of spiritual
value between married and single people.
The Protestant Church made the family pew sacred: mother, father and multiple children.
However, historians and sociologists point out that the notion of the Christian family as
one mother and one father rearing their children from cradle to career has nearly always
been more myth than reality. Until the discovery of penicillin, a majority of families
were in some manner what we now call "blended families" because so many women
died in childbirth. During the Industrial Revolution, thousands of children were sent to
work in factories of the Northeast to earn money for their family. Here in California, I
can't begin to tell you the number of moving stories I have heard of women who moved their
children across the country for a new life when their husband and father either died or
deserted them.
So the Christian family has always had much more variety than anyone other than God
could probably imagine. Maybe that's part of the reason why, when we are baptized, we
become part of the household of God: no matter what kind of family we come from, no matter
how dysfunctional or healthy it may be, no matter how neglectful or loving it may be,
Jesus calls us to change our primary loyalty from our family to His household, where we
are bound together not by bloodlines but by love and faith and loyalty to Jesus Christ.
That's why we do not have private family baptisms in the Presbyterian Church. We baptize
into the whole household of God. That's why we are young and old, single and married,
widowed and divorced together here we are the household of God and therefore brothers and
sisters in the faith.
This story of Mary and Martha is an important story of welcome and hospitality, of
who's is and who's out. For in choosing to accept the hospitality of Mary and Martha,
Jesus welcomes not only the so-called traditional family, but single, widowed and divorced
people into the Household of God. And through two such people, we realize that whether we
are single or married, we all struggle with the balance between being and doing, between
prayerful listening and harried busyness, between sitting at the rabbi's feet and being
his hands and voice in the world.
