“She had a sister….who sat at the Lord’s feet…” Luke 10:39
Last weekend in our Gospel we listened as a lawyer asked Jesus a question, and not just any question, but THE question: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” Life that is rich and full, abundant and overflowing with grace, now and forever. Jesus’ response was to ask the Lawyer, “What is written the law?” The man rightly replied, “love God and love your neighbor.” Then the Lawyer asked, “And who is my neighbor?” Jesus answers with a story that we call the parable of the Good Samaritan. The neighbor is the one who shows mercy. “Go and DO likewise!” Jesus commands the lawyer and us.
Most of us are pretty good at doing. Think about our two summer mission trips and all the doing that went into preparing for them. From selling Wawa Hoagie Certificates to hosting a huge Spaghetti Dinner, from flipping pancakes to washing cars, from hiding Easter Eggs to dressing up on a Duck Costume – know that the young man who so boldly did that wasn’t even going on a trip, but he helped his friends who were. As did everyone who supported their efforts including those who made generous donations, just because. Just because loving our neighbors is what it means to have eternal life. And once you’ve experienced that joy, there’s no going back.
Except when the neighbor doesn’t say thank you. Except when unhealthy patterns of behavior are repeated over and over again. Except when no matter how hard you try you fail to make a difference. Except when no one appreciates your generosity, your good work, your sacrificial contributions. Except when you’re absolutely exhausted because Jesus showed up at your home unexpectedly and now there is much to do and little time to do it. Martha couldn’t just turn the knob on a stove, she had to make a fire and then go to the well for water in order to boil the dried chick peas. When they were soft, she couldn’t throw them along with a cup of sesame paste, some olive oil and spices into a food processor and press a switch. She needed to get out her mortar and pestle to mash them by hand, all while making sure the pita bread didn’t burn. And hummus was just the first course. There was no supermarket where she could buy ready-made party trays. It was all her work. So, she asked Jesus to tell her sister Mary to come help her. Her simple request yielded an unexpected answer. “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing is essential and Mary has chosen it – it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.”[i] I suspect Martha was too polite to say it out-loud, but I wonder if she thought, “there won’t be a main course without some help.” Except there was.
Remember the lawyer with his question, THE question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” And when Jesus asks, “What’s in the law?” The man responds, “Love God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind.” And then, “love your neighbor as yourself.” Sitting at the feet of Jesus, Mary was doing the one thing, the most important thing, the main thing, upon which everything else depends. Loving God and in her loving, opening her heart and soul, body and mind to be loved by God. Loving God is the greatest and first commandment and then comes the second, loving your neighbor as yourself. In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says, “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” And indeed, they do. The first four of the ten commandments concern God – No other gods, no idols, no using the name of God irreverently and observe the Sabbath. The next six concern neighbors: honor your parents, no murder, no adultery, no stealing, no lying, no lusting after your neighbor’s stuff. Mary has chosen the one thing, the best, the main thing and Jesus won’t take it away from her.
What about us? What do we choose? I don’t know about you but I come from a long line of Martha’s. Both sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles, my parents got things done – for their families there were great feasts with tables groaning with food; for their country, sacrifices; for their communities, many good works; for their churches, faithful commitment. Our motto: Be helpful. And if we weren’t my grandmother would make us wash the dishes. When as College Junior, I set off to do a sociology internship at Emanuel Lutheran Church located in the heart of Southwark Housing project in South Philly, I was following family tradition. My first day, my supervisor, Pastor John Cochran, gave me a list of what I was to do and said, “Be back here for Mass at 5 pm every day.” I embraced the tasks, but not going to worship every day except Saturday. It was too much praying, too many hymns, too much church. Until a visit with a young mom and her two children left me in despair. There was nothing I could do to be helpful, nothing to make things better, nothing to justify my earnest self. At Mass that evening, all I could do was sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to his words: “Take and eat. This is my body given for you. Take and drink, this cup is the new covenant in my blood shed for you and all people.” Jesus for me, for the young mom with her two kids, for the whole broken and blessed world.
Mary chooses the one thing. We are invited to do so too. How do we do this in our crazy, busy lives? First, being here. Choose the one thing, every week and worship. Turn off your cell phone and put away your watch and simply sit at the feet of Jesus. Make it a holy habit. Next, listen to Jesus – perhaps by reading the Sermon on the Mount found in Matthew, chapter 5-7. Take it a few verses a time. It begins with transformative blessings and ends with astonishment. Pray every day. Prayer is simply sharing your joys and sorrows, hopes and frustrations, delights and fears with God. One of our elders who lives alone, when asked if she gets lonely replied, “Heavens no. I talk to Jesus all the time. I tell him we’re in this life together.” And they are. And finally, listen, listen, listen with an open heart to what God is telling you – that you are loved, loved, loved.
We don’t know how Jesus’ visit with the two sisters ended. Did Martha put down her paring knife and take off her apron? Did she serve the hummus and the bread and not worry about another course? Did Mary move over and make room for her? Did they realize that in Jesus, God was with them, now and forever? Amen.
[i] Eugene Peterson, The Message, Luke 10: 41-42.