July 20, 2025
Pentecost 6 – Luke 10: 38-42
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord
and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson read a few moments
ago.
Imagine you were a citizen of Bethany, 2000 years ago. You
sit down to your morning bowl of porridge, flip open the local newspaper, the
Bethany News & Eagle, and find your favorite columnist, Ms. Manners.
There, you read the following:
Dear Ms. Manners: Help me understand what I did wrong. My
sister and I had a dear friend who came by to visit. While my sister sat down and
listened to our friend, I scurried around the kitchen making tea and
charcuterie board of cakes, figs, and dates drizzled with honey. I was trying
to tidy up our small house, making it obvious to my sister that I wanted her
help. Finally, I snapped: “Don’t just sit there! Do something!” My sister
looked at me, dumbfounded. Meanwhile our guest chided me, saying that my sister
had made the better choice. I am so confused. I was doing what is socially
demanded and being the good host; she was being lazy. What did I do wrong?
Sincerely, Muddled Martha
If you were Miss Manners, how would you respond? What did
Martha do wrong? I’ll give you a clue: be careful; the answer isn’t quite as
easy as you might first think.
On the one hand, Martha did nothing wrong. In fact, Martha
was doing something good: she was being a loving host. Martha was doing the
socially acceptable thing, and it wasn’t all that different than Abram as he
entertained God’s messengers. She was providing a comfortable space, hosting
the Holy Guest in her home. She is being exactly the kind of host that Jesus
spoke to His disciples about, saying that if they were welcomed into a home, to
stay there and speak the peace of God unto the home. Really, if you look at
this narrative in the context of the parable of the Good Samaritan (which we
heard last week), where mercy and compassion are actions to be lived out, not mere
options to be considered, Martha is fulfilling the role of the Good Samaritan.
To be fair, she did grumble, but that’s understandable. I
don’t think she minded being host – after all, she did invite Jesus into her
home. I suspect she actually enjoyed it, especially if her so-called love
language was service. But, as most of you know, service can become tiresome –
especially when you are the only one working, and the work just isn’t getting
done. Truth be told, serving isn’t easy. We try to mask it with such colloquial
phrases like, “Team work makes the dream work,” and “Many hands make light
work.” But, at the end of the day, servitude is work. Joy and frustration are
often in an inverse ratio: as one increases, the other decreases. In this case,
as frustration mounts, the joy of serving dissipates. I imagine she started to
bang a few things around just a little bit louder, sighed a little longer,
cleared her throat a little more aggressively. Service, hosting, mercy all
become burdensome responsibilities. Finally, with no action resulting from her
passive-aggressive tactics towards her sister, she snaps at Jesus: “Do you not
care that my sister has left me to serve alone?”
It would be easy to turn on Martha shame her for her choices.
It would be easy, and simplistic, to imply that service isn’t good, that work
around the home is not necessary, that caring for the needs of others is
unimportant. It would be easy to beat up on Martha and her busy-ness and
instead laud and praise Mary for her sitting and listening to Jesus. But if we
did that, what does that say to you who serve – especially if we elevate and
praise those who chose to attend Sunday school and worship instead? What does
that do to you who serve the meals, who teach Sunday school, who volunteer to
help with ministry of St. Paul’s in this community? Wouldn’t that minimize and
devalue your work in such a way that it would discourage you from ever helping
make a sandwich for the homeless, or volunteer to help Vacation Bible School,
or even serve as an usher in the Divine Service?
Let’s back up a second. Last week, we heard the young lawyer
come to Jesus and ask the question about how to fulfill the Law. His answer was
a good one, citing the Torah, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your
heart, soul and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” Those are the two
great commandments. You can take those and plug them into the story of Mary and
Martha, each sister choosing one or the other. Both commandments are good; both
sisters chose something good.
The struggle is that we, as people, are finite beings. We can
only do one thing at a time. We cannot serve God and man, Jesus said. It’s not
that Martha made a bad choice – Jesus doesn’t criticize her servitude. He
doesn’t scold her for not sitting next to her sister in rapt attention. All
Jesus says is that she is quite busy, bordering on being overburdened, worried
about all the goings-on in the house. Again, no rebuke. His comment isn’t a
negative towards Martha, but a positive toward Mary. Martha’s servitude is
worthwhile but Mary’s is better.
The two great commandments are both good, but the second, the
love of neighbor, flows from the first. Martha does welcome Jesus into her
home. She does follow the example of loving service to her neighbor. We might
say she looses a point or two for getting cranky, and that’s where things start
to go awry – not enough to get in trouble, per se, but she takes her eye off
the reason for the service, which is love toward another, and instead sees only
herself. Mary, on the other hand, in listening to Jesus wasn’t better than
Martha’s being bad (which she wasn’t!), but Mary’s good was better than
Martha’s good. Love of God trumps love of neighbor. And, because of that, it
will not be taken from her.
There is a time and a place for serving. Consider how often
Jesus Himself served. He healed the sick, He calmed the storms that threatened
to sink the disciple’s boat, He gave sight to the blind and hearing to the
deaf. He taught both on the hillside and in the synagogue. He blessed the
children and showed mercy to tax collectors, prostitutes, and other sinners.
There were times for serving. There were even times that He was served. Here,
Martha scampers and scurries to care for Jesus. In other places, Mary Magdalene
bathes Jesus’ feet with her hair. Zaccheus invites Jesus to his home to eat
dinner. But remember, Jesus said, “The Son of Man came not to be served, but to
serve and give His life as a ransom for many, (Matt 20:28).” His ultimate act
of service for mankind, that is the fulfillment of the second table of the Law,
was in fulfilling the first table, loving the Lord God with all His heart,
mind, soul – and body, dying the death on the cross for us.
His perfect servitude fulfills the Law perfectly for us, so
that in our not-always-loving-and-sometimes-begrudging acts of helping set the
table, or washing the dishes, or doing the laundry, in Christ are made holy and
perfect. Our often-distracted and not-always-focused reading and listening to
the Word of God are made perfect and complete in Christ Jesus. His death on the
cross redeems even our miniscule efforts of lovingly fulfilling the Law. In
Jesus, the Law is complete for us. You, then, are freed to live out the Law,
not under threat of punishment, but under the joy of knowing that in Christ,
our service is made perfect, our humble time of worshipping at the feet of
Jesus is good.
Here's what this means for you, today, on this 6th
Sunday of Pentecost in the year of our Lord, 2025. It is good to serve your
neighbor. It is a good thing to teach Sunday school, or volunteer to reach into
the community, to help feed the hungry, to visit the sick, to pray for the
hurting, and to demonstrate love to the least and weakest of God’s people.
These are good things. But, as good as these acts of love to your neighbor are,
it is – to coin a term – “gooder,” or “more good” to sit and listen to the
words of Jesus. In those words of Jesus, you hear the promises of God for you,
His beloved. You hear His word of forgiveness, life and salvation which work to
transform, enliven, and empower you to do those acts of loving service.
Do those acts of servitude with joy, for in loving your
neighbor, you are demonstrating love to those whom Jesus loves. And, if you
find yourself growing irritated in service, pause, repent, and return to sit at
the feet of Jesus in Word and Sacrament, to be re-filled with joy and love
toward your neighbor, that you are able again to serve with mercy and
compassion.
So, go back to the Miss Manners moment. If you were Miss or
Mr. Manners, how would you answer Muddled Martha? If I were Miss Manners –Pastor
Manners, if you will - what would I say to “Muddled Martha”? What would I say
to you, Cranky Carl, or Bothered Beth, or Distressed Dianne, or Frustrated
Frank, if you were concerned about which choice to make? How about this:
Dear Friend in Christ: you didn’t do anything wrong in
serving your friend. What you did was an act of love. It’s tough to serve when
others seem to be content to sit and do nothing. Thus, Pastor Manners
understands your comment, “Don’t just sit there, do something.” In this case,
though, your sister chose well – dare I say, “gooder.” Pastor Manners would
suggest that instead of thinking, “Don’t just sit there, do something,” instead
repent, and let your attitude be, “Don’t just do something; sit there.” You
were concerned about filling bowls and cups. She chose to sit and be filled
with the words of Jesus. The next time Jesus comes to visit, fetch Him a quick
snack and a drink – that is the hospitable thing to do – and then stop doing
and just listen.
And, for all of you at St. Paul’s in the year of our Lord,
2025, that means sitting with Jesus, with the Word made flesh, in the Divine
Service, in your daily devotions, in your quiet moments of prayer. Repent of
the desire to be busy, the need to do something. Sit and be filled with the
Good News of Jesus. It’s the gooder thing to do.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment