This morning, we meet Martha and Mary – two sisters who turn up in various Gospel stories along with their brother Lazarus. Or do they... Luke tells us about Mary and Martha. Luke doesn’t seem to know Br Lazarus... And Luke doesn’t mention the name of the town... Some scholars think it could be Bethany, home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus from John’s Gospel, but others are certain that it cannot possibly be Bethany. So, we cannot be sure if these are the same Martha and Mary we meet in John’s Gospel. When we read scripture, other parts of scripture tend to whisper in our ears. We know this family. We know about Mary not only sitting attentively today, but anointing Jesus’ feet with Nard. We know about Jesus’ great love of their brother Lazarus and about Lazarus being raised from the dead. We may know these things, but Luke doesn’t and neither would the followers who first heard Luke’s telling of the Gospel. John’s Gospel, where we learn about Lazarus and nard and such, was still years in the future. To really meet Mary and Martha as they exist in this Gospel, in Luke’s world, we have to forget some of that stuff. When we’ve gotten John to be somewhat quiet, we might notice first that this Gospel story is not really about Mary and Martha, it's about Jesus. Jesus knocks at the door. The sisters let him in and prepare to feed this unannounced drop-in crowd. Well – Martha prepares to feed the crowd. Mary prepares to enjoy the benefits of Martha’s labor with her new best friends... We get an interesting glimpse into sisterly relationships. We can guess that Martha is the older sister because it seems to be her house. At the death of the parents, the oldest child would inherit both the estate and any younger siblings... So, Martha has had to run the household and put up with Mary for who knows how long. Mary flaking out from the work of hospitality seems to bug Martha. Hospitality was an important social obligation at that time. If folks showed up at your door, you were expected to feed them and house them... So, Martha is busy serving drinks and putting out plates of hors devours and such. Mary, on the other hand, seems like she would be happy opening a bag of chips and letting folks fend for themselves. Martha is not having it. But she doesn’t speak with her sister... she chooses instead to complain to Jesus. Of course, she has known her sister all her life and perhaps she knows it will do no good to correct her. All we know is that she is happy telling this stranger who has come to her door that her sister is useless. “Do you not care that she has left me to do all the work? Tell her to help me.” Of course, Martha’s complaints have additional benefits. She gets to vent. She also gets to make sure that the honored guest knows all the work is hers. Do you like the food, Jesus? I prepared that. Another drink, Jesus? I stomped the grapes myself. Mary didn’t help one little bit. I can’t say that Martha is making a good first impression on me. Martha knows that Jesus is important since she refers to him as “Lord.” Does she know more about Jesus? Does she know that he is the Son of God? Does she care? Luke is silent about Martha’s story – because this story is about Jesus, not Martha, not Mary. This story follows directly after the story of the Good Samaritan, which follows the story of the sending out of the Seventy and their happy return. There is a sort of travel theme to this tenth chapter of Luke. When the seventy (or seventy-two) disciples are sent, they are told to each go to the appointed village and lodge with some random family. Eat and drink what is offered. This is, in fact, just what Jesus is doing at the home of Martha and Mary. Jesus tells the disciples, when they are sent, not to worry. Eat what is offered. Drink what is offered. Don’t wander from house to house looking for a better buffet. And if you are not welcome, just move on. So, when Martha goes into high hospitality gear, Jesus has a reaction. She is surely worried that her hospitality will not be up to snuff. She no doubt takes pride in her house and in her food and drinks offerings. That slacker Mary is no help whatsoever. Jesus has told folks to just accept what is offered. But Martha is so busy putting on a show for Jesus that she is missing Jesus. Of course, I suspect that Jesus and the disciples are quite enjoying Martha’s handiwork. I don’t suppose that they are refusing the food and drink. But still, Martha can chill. She does not have to prove her worth to Jesus through her catering. This is a vital lesson for us – we do not have to prove our worth, we do not have to purchase Jesus’ love. Jesus already loves us... God already loves us. Just as God already loves Martha. Martha needs to learn this. This story reminds us that we are called to do what we can do – not less, and not more. It would be easy, hearing the story of the Good Samaritan earlier in this chapter of Luke, to think we must always measure up to that heroic level of sacrificing hospitality. That is what Martha seems to be aiming for. And Jesus tells her it's really not what he wants. Jesus tells us, in Matthew’s Gospel, that the yoke is easy, and the burden is light. In some sense, Martha and Mary are illustrating that for us. We would feel like we were better Christians if the yoke were heavier. For all of Martha’s complaining, I think she enjoys the yoke being a bit heavy. It makes her feel validated. But Jesus has different values. Jesus’ yoke is easy because Jesus wants it that way. Mary has chosen the lighter yoke. Mary has chosen the better part. Mary has chosen to be present to Jesus. It sounds like the choice we would all make, but the truth is we’re all drawn to sit in that pew with Martha. The reality is that Mary and Martha need each other. They complete each other. We need to be hospitable to our brothers and sisters and strangers and orphans and prisoners, and so on. If we’re not, then we have not listened to Jesus... not heard the Gospel. But attention to those in need does not replace worship of God. Nor does worship of God replace care for our brothers and sisters, God’s Children... for all of God’s creatures. I have often heard this Gospel passage presented as a sort of binary choice. We must choose to be like Martha or to be like Mary – choose wisely. But in a Mary-only world folks would go hungry while in a Martha-only world, Jesus and the Gospel would be shoved aside. Our choice is not Martha or Mary – our choice is both... Mary and Martha... in balance with each other. The great commandment for us is to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves. And for each of us, this is a different exercise. Jesus sees us as individuals. Jesus calls to us where we are. In our modern world we often equate being busy with being good... valuable... important. The “Protestant Work Ethic” is part of our heritage. Or we quote the old truism that “idle hands are the devil’s workshop” - a notion that comes to us from Chaucer, not Jesus. Our modern world values activity over prayer. Yet you can’t look at the mess the world is in without recognizing that we need prayer, and we need it desperately. But we are badly out of balance on the Martha-Mary spectrum. Getting into balance does not involve going to the opposite end, just making little moves until balance is found. Our present secular world tells us that the Martha end of the spectrum is where we ought to be. But that is not a message from Jesus. Jesus loves us and wants nothing more that we should love him, love our fellow humans, and love God’s creation. Is there love in Martha’s heart? We don’t really know. If we listen to what she says about her sister, we can hear frustration and anger – lots of it. But love? I think the story is silent about that. Yet without love, as Paul would say, she is just a noisy cymbal. The work of discipleship is love. Anything done in love is discipleship. Anything done without love cannot be discipleship. It would be great if love were as simple as it tends to be in pop music... Easy to fall in love, to stay in love, to love forever... But popular music does not tell us the truth about love. The Letter to the Corinthians tells a more substantial story of love: Love is patient; love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast; it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. This story of Mary and Martha seems to me to embody the great command. Mary shows us the love of God and Martha shows us the love of neighbor. Our task is to unite them.
